Page 32 of One Indian Girl
‘Yeah. Your legs, I mean...you have nice legs.’
‘Oh, so that is all you like about me?’
Desperate, lame, stupid. What was that, Radhika?I told myself as I fished. Oh I didn’t just fish. I sent a fishing team with a trailer to catch a shipload.
‘No, no. I like your face too. Your hair. Your eyes. Your whole personality, actually.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Now you will say all this. It’s about the legs, right?’
It better be about the legs. I paid 100 dollars to Completely Bare.
‘No, no. Sorry... I mean...’
‘Relax, Debu. I am kidding,’ I said and squeezed his warm hand. I didn’t want to let go of it. However, I didn’t want it to count as a move either.Why do we girls have to follow so many rules? If he likes my whole personality, why can’t I be fully me?
I released his hand. We walked past a Barnes and Noble bookstore and had to cross a traffic signal. He used it as an excuse to hold my hand. We crossed the road together. He didn’t release my hand afterwards.
I gave him a sideways glance. He smiled at me.
‘My sister is considered the prettier one, actually,’ I said.
‘I find that quite hard to believe. Unless she is Miss Universe or something.’
I smiled at his indirect compliment. I felt like running my fingers through his curly hair.
He continued, ‘Actually, even if she is Miss Universe. I find you really pretty.’
Sweet lies, they do have a place in life.I sighed.
‘Thanks, Debu,’ I said.
We reached the Benjamin Hotel. We had made some progress. We had held hands, but only that.Did I intimidate him? Did he totally lie but actually not find me attractive? Is he scared?
‘So this is where I live. Train stop is right there.’ I pointed at the subway sign.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I had a great time. Thanks for the treat.’
‘You are welcome,’ I said. ‘Bye.’
My heart sank a bit. I didn’t want him to go.
‘Hey, just one thing. Doesn’t have to be today,’ he said.
‘Yeah?’ I said.
‘You have your sister’s photo in your room? Wanted to check. I am sure the claim that she is prettier is false,’ he said.
Was that a move? He mentioned my room. Did he want to come upstairs? Or he could technically want me to go up and bring down some pictures. Heck, I had Aditi didi’s photos on my phone. So is this a move? Will someone tell me, please?
I smiled at him.
‘No, really,’ Debu said,
‘That’s sweet. So are you.’
‘Pretty?’
I laughed. ‘No. Handsome. Smart. Creative too.’
