Page 2 of Red Flags and Rishtas
‘Come on, you know I’d get bored without you,’ Vrinda said, turning around to examine the folds of the metallic green Bronx and Banco dress in the mirror.
‘Stop fretting, you look fantastic. Like a goddess, even,’ I said, hoping the compliment would distract her from pursuing the matter any further.
‘Don’t change the subject, Ananya,’ she scolded, before letting herself crack a smile. ‘But, hehe, thank you!’
Vrinda’s long-term boyfriend was throwing a party tonight, and she wanted me to come. She had promised that it wouldn’t be like the last time or the time before that … or the one before that. Of course, I had no reason to believe her. In the four years that V and Saurav had been together, I had come very close to physically assaulting people at every party he had thrown. Saurav was great, but I couldn’t for the life of me get along with any of the rich brats in his social circle. They had all grown up in South Delhi, attended private schools that took them to Europe for exchange programmes and had miraculously glided into their late twenties without a single worry tainting their charmed existence – and they made sure to rub it in my face every chance they got. Not only did we have absolutely nothing in common, but I also found them truly, truly insufferable. And sure, you could argue that Vrinda came from their part of the world, but she wasn’t like them. Not one bit.
‘I’m not changing the subject. I just can’t come this time,’ I said, rolling over on my stomach to reach for my phone.
I scrolled mindlessly through Instagram, pretending to be distracted. From the corner of my eye, I saw Vrinda peeling her eyes from the mirror to face me. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, waiting for me to look up. When I didn’t, she let out an exaggerated sigh and plopped down on the bed next to me.
‘But why? What can be more important than hanging out with your best friend in the whole wide world?’ she said, pouting.
‘I’m hanging out with her right now,’ I pointed out and scooted over so she could snuggle up in my blanket.
She peeped into my phone, letting herself get sucked into the empty, addictive world of social media. We aww-ed at a video of a puppy who was too scared to jump from a tiny step and eww-ed at a Bollywood lip-sync reel our school classmate had posted. This was my favourite part of the week. V and I hung out allthe time, sometimes at mine, less often at hers – almost always indoors.
This, inside the room I had decorated as a teenager, was where I felt our friendship thrived the most. We had practically grown up here, spending countless hours through school and college discussing fashion, pop stars and boys. It was under the posters of SRK and Coldplay that we had watched porn for the first time, lying on this very bed. My mirror had seen us attempt (and fail at) many make-up trends over the years. In tenth grade, we had hidden an abandoned kitten in my double-door wardrobe and sat in silent protest on my wooden floor when my mom told us we couldn’t keep it. In this room, we had choreographed dance routines for our future weddings even when we were painfully single, and bitched about how our boyfriends sucked when we weren’t.
This, right here, was perfect. I wasn’t a fan of being placed in other settings. Especially if they had anything to do with pretentious parties.
‘So what is it that’s keeping you so busy tonight?’ V asked.
Her tone was casual, a calculated attempt to broach the subject again.
‘I …’ I said, racking my brain for an excuse that she would consider legitimate, ‘um, I have a date.’
‘Didn’t you just go on a date this afternoon?’ she asked, giving me the side-eye before her need to be filled in took over. ‘How was that, by the way?’
‘Ah, blah. I’m going to end up alone,’ I said, forcing some dejection into my voice.
‘Hey, come on,’ she said, bumping her elbow with mine, ‘you’re never going to be alone. You have me.’
I smiled, turning on my side to look at her. Vrinda was beautiful. And I don’t mean the regular kind of beautiful. Not only did she have the most chiselled, editorial face, but shewas also athletic, tall and graceful, which, if I’m being honest, sometimes made me envious. I was her cute, clumsy, short best friend. Okay, notthatshort. FYI, I was above the average Indian woman’s height. But next to her, I felt like a minion fromDespicable Me.
‘So you’re breaking the one-date-a-week rule, huh?’ she asked, referring to my imaginary date later tonight.
‘I guess I am,’ I said and sighed, before adding, ‘I need some action to get me through the disaster that is my life.’
She smacked my face with Mr Corny, my stuffed pink unicorn.
‘You’re so dramatic.’
‘You live for the drama,’ I retorted, snatching my childhood friend from her.
‘Hey! I’ve got the perfect idea,’ she said, her eyes twinkling.
‘No, I’m not bringing him to the party,’ I said, rolling my eyes at her.
‘But why not? Come on, Annie. Don’t be such a buzzkill.’
I honestly didn’t like doing this. It wasn’t fun to see her disappointed, and it was definitely not enjoyable to lie to her. But some things just had to be done.
‘He’s just not a party kinda guy. He’s made a reservation at that new rooftop restaurant in Connaught Place.’
‘Who doesn’t like parties? He sounds awful. What’s his name anyway?’ she said, then added, ‘But ooooh, rooftop … how romantic.’
Talking to Vrinda was often like dealing with two personalities all at once. Some people found it annoying, but I didn’t mind. It felt like I had two friends at the cost of one. I know that makes me sound kind of pathetic, but hey, I’m just being resourceful.
