Page 41 of Red Flags and Rishtas
She whacked my arm with her hand, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. ‘You’ll get me in trouble someday.’
And with that, she left my room, shutting the door tightly behind her.
I did a trust fall onto my bed, bouncing a few times before sinking into the thick spring mattress. I was exhausted, and while the short exchange with my relative had lifted my spirits for a moment, I felt disheartened by the events of the day.
I looked around, wondering if Marie Kondo-ing my teenage room would offer me some solace. I had spent two years away when I was in Bangalore for my post-graduation. That’s where I’d met my ex, who was a senior at the time. The first time I’d seen him, he was playing the guitar in the college cafeteria, just jamming with his cool gang of musicians. Looking back, the thing I hated the most was that the most important relationship of my life had been a complete cliché – a naive girl falls for a manipulative but charming musician, gets her heart broken and is never the same again. What a shame.
When I got back to Delhi from Bangalore, I decided to erase those two years from my life. I slowly distanced myself from all the friends I’d made in college, the ones I had in common with him. I slipped back into my old routine, old friendships and old room. I’d thought about redecorating quite a few times, but I always found a reason not to. Today, for example, I was simply too tired.
I browsed through my contact list, mindlessly scrolling through the names. For someone who had one friend in total, I sure did know a lot of people. Without meaning to, I paused at one name. Instinctively, I clicked on it and typed out a message.
He was online. I saw him typing for a few seconds before the screen went blank.
I tossed the phone as far from me as possible, a wave of embarrassment washing over me.
Why did I have to text and give him the upper hand?
My loud groaning was interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. I got up on all fours to retrieve it from the other end of the bed. The screen flashed his name.
I paused for a second before hitting answer.
‘Why are you calling me?’ I asked.
‘Well, you texted me,’ he responded, unfazed by the non-greeting.
‘So text back like a normal person.’
‘Texting back and forth is so much wooooork,’ he said. His voice was deep and elastic, like he was stretching in bed.
I laughed at that and said, ‘Gosh, you reallyarevery old.’
‘How old do you think I am?’ he asked.
‘Mentally or biologically?’ I teased.
‘Ha ha,’ he said flatly, ‘I turn thirty in September.’
‘Jesus,’ I said. ‘No wonder.’
‘No wonder what?’ he asked, and I imagined him crossing his arms defensively.
‘The big “Thirty” deadline is getting to you. That’s why you’re so eager to tie the knot.’
He chuckled and said, ‘You’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you?’
There was a pause. I rolled onto my side, clutching Mr Corny to my chest.
‘But seriously, what’s the update on that front?’ I finally asked.
‘Why would I give top-secret intel to the enemy?’ He was still chuckling.
‘It was your rule, remember? Plus, I’m offering you a barter with updates of my own,’ I said, letting down the competitive guard for a second before I added, ‘I’m no closer to finding a boyfriend than I was last week.’
‘Well, that sucks for you. I’m actually meeting someone tomorrow. Someone I think I’ll like,’ he said, and I could almost hear his annoying smile through the phone.
‘Of course you’ll like her. Or whatever front she puts up in front of her entire family,’ I said, rolling my eyes into my pillow.
I heard him gulping water on the other end. ‘I’m meeting her solo. For lunch,’ he said.
