Page 43 of Better Catch Up, Krishna Kumar

“What are we going to do for the rest of the day, though?” I say. “We’ve already checked out of our rooms.”

“We could rebook the place,” Rudra suggests.

“No,” Priti says. “We’re not spending two rooms’ worth of money right now. The repairs are going to be expensive, and we can’t overspend.”

“It’smycar, and I’m not letting you guys pay. It was overdue for a repair anyway.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Ambani.”

“You’re making this trip because of us, and we’re splittingallexpenses,” I say. “How much does it cost?”

“Seven thousand rupees,” Rudra says.

Okay, that’s alot. My parents have never denied me pocket money to spend on myself, but I don’t think I want to spend seven thousand rupees on agasket. I don’t even know what that is!

Rudra sighs, clearly noting the horror on my face. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“So the OYO’s off,” Priti says, grabbing her phone from the table. “Let me look up alternate options of stay.”

“In the meantime, we could do some street shopping at FC Road,” I suggest. “Unless that’s not something you’re into.” I direct this at Rudra because I know Priti’s always down for clothes shopping. He just doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who would roam around in the heat of the afternoon sun to look at cheap clothes. Have you seen the stuff he wears?

“Why would you think that?” Rudra asks, frowning. He doesn’t exactly sound hurt by what I said, but there’s a slight fall in volume to his voice.

“I don’t know,” I say, hesitating, then remember that he’s always honest about his opinions of me. “You wear branded, expensive stuff. Stuff that’s bought in three-floored luxury stores in air-conditioned malls. Not in roadside shops.”

Rudra watches me for a moment before shrugging. “Sure, I wouldn’tbuyany of that stuff, but I don’t mind going with you both. I’ve been to Linking Road with Priti.”

I’m bemused by his honesty, but what surprises me is hownotvain he manages to sound. “Like, once?” I tease.

A smile tugs at Rudra’s lips (his very pinklips, I notice). “Twice.”

“How very noble of you to have graced Linking Road with your presence.”

“Oh well, it wasn’t too much of a burden to bear,” Rudra says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You never know if you’ll find something worth keeping there. Like these jhumkas you like to wear.” He reaches out and pokes my jhumka to emphasize his point, and it swings against my jaw, metal tinkling. I turn red, ducking my head.

My stomach is fluttering so hard I can’t help but squirm in my seat. But before I can string together a clever enough response, Priti slaps the table. Rudra and I nearly jump.

“Wait!” Priti says excitedly. “How could I have forgotten? I have relatives here! From my dad’s side. The Sinhas. We could go to their place.”

“Where do they live?” I ask, not sure if I want to hang out with my cousin’s cousins, much less stay over at their place. I’ve met them once before, at a shaadi, but I don’t remember much; I was quite young.

“Hinjewadi. It’s super close to here.” Priti beams, looking between the two of us. The sight is unnerving. “What say?”

“I guess—” Rudra starts, and that’s all the encouragement Priti needs.

“Perfect, I’ll call them right now,” she says, hurrying out of her seat so fast her chair nearly crashes to the floor. She moves to the side to make a phone call to her relatives. And I suppose that’s the end of discussion.

Because once Priti is dead set on something, there’s no stopping her.

11

I’m Not Ashamed to AdmitKal Ho Naa HoMakes Me Cry Like a Little Bitch

Pune, Saturday

“No more for me, thank you,” I say when I’m offered samosas for the third time.

I lean back in the Sinhas’ living room couch, clutching my stomach uncomfortably. I’ve already polished off my rasmalai, and the rajma chawal is dangerously close to being ejected out of my body like the chole bhature at the party Thursday night.