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“Why should I go? He attempted his full Geography paper!” Gopi was arguing. “Make him go!”

Avantika pulled him into the frame and left him in Kresha’s strong hands as the song started. Kresha began to dance to the old tappa, an Instagram challenge where girls would pull their guys to dance with them, teach them the steps — “Bhabho kendi hai pyara Singha velna le aa…”

Gopi tried to push away but she made him follow the hilarious steps. Avantika joined them to hold him in from the other side, giving the performance of the century with him. He tried, the poor guy, looking harassed and completely done.

“I’m out!” He ran off halfway, making them burst into crazy chortles. The audience roared, loud hoots drowning the next few words of the video.

“Now!” Avantika jumped to the fore of the screen and the noise died down. “For the guest of honour!”

“No!” Samarth warned from somewhere. “No, no, no…” he got pushed into the frame by Gopi and Avantika grabbed him by the arm, pulling him between her and Kresha. He tried to run but they held his hands and spun him there.

“I, 2, 3…!” The stanza changed. They sang along — “Bhabho kendi hai Naren Singha velna le aa…”

“No, Ava!” He laughed, trying to run again but she and Kresha squeezed closer to him, dancing to the beats.

“It’s an Instagram trend! Come on, 1, 2, 3!

” They rolled their hands to their left, screaming — “1, 1, 1…” He rolled his own hands awkwardly along with them, looking ridiculous with that scowl on his face.

“Now 2, 2, 2,” They rolled their arms around their heads and he followed suit, an amused snort breaking through that scowl.

“Is this Kresha and Gopi’s wedding or ours?

” A hot whisper sounded in her ear. Her most favourite voice in the whole world.

Avantika stopped howling with the rest of the lunch party.

She felt his heat move away from her and only then turned her eyes sideways.

He was standing beside her, hands behind his back, mouth open in a half-laugh at their school shenanigans, eyes bright with sparkles.

So much for asking her to stay away from him! What was he trying to do?

Avantika pushed her head close to his bicep and whispered the words into his White-Oud-smelling shirt — “It can be ours if you want it to be.”

His bicep popped her head off just as Kresha’s head turned over her shoulder. She was shooting fireballs at Samarth. She looked at her, mouthing — Are you ok?

Avantika smiled and leaned into her ear — “I did this, don’t worry about it.”

“This must be hard for you, Ava… you don’t have to spend time with him.”

“He is not the King of Narnia for me to still be pining after him. Chill.”

One more scorching look at Samarth, and Kresha weaved her arm through Gopi’s and they made their way into the courtyard, the video and applause and laughs droning to an end. She began to follow them when her most favourite voice in the world sounded again. This time not a whisper.

“Raje?”

She turned, her stomach clenching at how delicious her maiden moniker sounded on his mouth.

“Narnia is too far. How about your heart?”

She narrowed her eyes at him — “What are you trying to do?”

“What you asked.”

“What I asked, is it?”

He smirked, that eyebrow and that corner of his mouth going up together.

“It’s on, Samarth,” she warned.

“Bring it on,” he grinned, a stray lock of his perfect hair falling over his forehead. It was downright villainous on that pretty face. Her heart. Her stupid, stupid, traitorous heart was jumping up and down.

————————————————————

The palace was teeming with Nawabi-chic-meets-Boho-royalty for the pool party in their Bougainvillea garden.

Fairy lights, bonfires under the evening sun, a live Hindustani-Classical-meets-Grunge fusion band, lots of mini kachoris, kebabs, and sheermal sliders going around with endless pouring of spirits. It was heaven!

They had all dressed down after their erstwhile formal attires to greet the King of Gwalior.

From sarees and button-ups, they were now each in pool-side glam.

Swim-wear and resort-wear. 10-degree December evenings in Gwalior?

What was that? Kaka Maharaj had gotten the entire poolside insulated and heated with bonfires to feel like they were all in a live barbecue.

And the pool? It looked freezing but was a balmy 25 degrees.

She knew it. She had tested it last evening.

And, suggested they get it lit underwater for their shenanigans!

The sun was spreading its orange glory all over the garden as Avantika walked down the arches of Bougainvillea vines with her girl gang and chaperones. The pinks and whites of the flowers had already covered the rolled white carpet, creating the best welcome for their guests. She beamed.

Dressed down, down below the down in a red and white checkered bikini and a matching skirt, her hair up in a high ponytail with a matching scarf and cat-eye sunglasses on, she played up her athletic body to enhance those mild curves.

“Hey! Ava!” Vishnu called from the bar. Avantika focused her gaze on him but the man beside him sucked all the breath out of her.

She controlled her reaction with superroyal effort or her eyes would have bugged out.

In a pair of linen pants and nothing else, he was leaning on the bar!

He had a shawl around his neck. It covered a little of that hair-roughened chest but left the imagination running even wilder for whatever little that the shawl hid.

Avantika left her girl gang and walked up to them, keeping her eyes off Samarth Sinh Solanki as if he didn’t exist.

“You look… wow!” Vishnu held his hand out for her. She took it and he pulled her into a side hug. “Man! How long has it been? A decade?”

“And a year,” she smirked, pulling herself out of his arms but not before seeing the hair-roughened arm that wasn’t holding a glass tumbler push behind his back. She knew the hand attached to it would curl into a fist. Avantika played it up and grabbed Vishnu by his bicep.

“You still play polo?”

“Unfortunately no. Samarth does though,” he nudged his chin to the man she had sworn to not grace with her eyes. Avantika waved him off — “Pffft! Was never too crazed about it anyway…”

“Why so?” Samarth’s deep voice drawled. Avantika kept her eyes on Vishnu — “Horses do all the work. What do you do?”

“Ooooh!” Vishnu’s eyebrows went up. “You two never kissed and made up after that breakup?”

“Kiss? Him?” She threw her thumb towards him. “Puleese. Frogs are better.”

“Trash talk with your ex — so mature, Ava,” Samarth laughed.

“Oh you want me to be your bestie and tell you about all the others that came after you?” This time she turned to him and her lips curved even wider seeing his playful side. He was in full swing now, no going back.

“Others? There was a team?”

“A cricket team to be precise,” she pushed her hands behind her back, knowing it would push her breasts out to his eyes. They did stray there for a second before stuttering away.

Samarth took a sip from his tumbler, slow and cool. “ A cricket team, is it? And you were the mascot?”

“ Cute. I was the Captain. Opened every match.”

He leaned in just enough for her to catch that grin. “ Did you also finish? Or did you get out after your first Instagram reel moment?”

She tilted her head. “ Says the man who rides ponies and calls it a sport for said reels.”

“ They ’ re thoroughbreds,” he corrected with mock-offence. “ Trained athletes.”

“ Exactly. They are. You just sit pretty in a helmet and take credit.”

“ I swing a mallet at 30 miles per hour.”

“ Yeah? I swung a bat with one hand while adjusting my sunglasses with the other. So?”

“I bowled pace with my non-dominant arm and hit the stumps. Every. Single. Time.”

“ Oh-ho!” Vishnu clapped, loving the show. “ Is this foreplay”

Avantika smirked. “ It ’ s a prelude to humiliation. Samarth? You up for a bowl-over?”

He raised a brow. “ You mean actual cricket?”

“ Why not? With…” she glanced around. “This —” She snatched a pool noodle off a lounger and pointed at the bar, “—and these lemons.”

“Will you race me on a horse then?”

“I would. But unfortunately our ponies are sleeping in our stables far far away,” she grinned.

He grinned back and held his left hand out.

She grabbed a full lemon from the mojito corner and dropped it into his palm, grinning at the bartender.

He was enjoying their banter too, as was visible from his hands working drinks on autopilot while his eyes were on them.

Now that Avantika checked, half the party’s eyes were on them — and all of the Saraswati Crest alumni, including Harsh and Kirti didi, were gathering around.

Wait. They were standing together so close?

“What happened, Raje? Forgot how to hold a bat?” Samarth taunted, taking steps back from her, tossing the lemon up and catching it back.

“I can chuck your balls left, right and centre holding this bat upside down,” she trashed back just as Gopi brought a stack of trays to build a wicket behind her.

“This looks cute, any chance of a reconciliation?” He muttered in her ear.

Before she could respond, Kresha’s loud holler summoned him back.

Within seconds, a semicircle was formed.

More lemons were fetched. Samarth doffed his shawl with a dramatic flick and handed it to Vishnu.

Her stomach tightened. She pulled her sunglasses off and handed them off to whoever was behind her.

Hoping there was somebody behind her. There luckily was, and they took her glasses.

“Take care of your hair, princess,” she warned. He ran a hand through it and it didn’t fall on his forehead. “There, it’s coiffed now.”

Samarth did a mock wind-up, lemon in hand. “ Let ’ s see if you can still bat without Coach Dhillon telling you where to stand.”

He bowled. She whacked. The lemon ricocheted off a tree and landed in someone ’ s cocktail.