Page 44 of Knot So Romantic

“Jeet over homework sounds like me,” I say playfully. “Doesn’t mean I was keen on him.”

“Uff, this girl won’t give up,” Mom says, huffing. “I’m just saying maybe it wasn’t you over homework, for him. Maybe it was you, homework or not.”

This conversation is making me smile. I glance at my dad to see what he thinks. He’s busy tuning the radio to his favorite channel. He’s not even listening.

“What do you say, Moorthy?” Mom chides him for not paying attention to such an important conversation.

Jeet vs. homework? I stifle another smile.

“Umm...whatever you think is right, Shalu.” He rolls the ball right back into her court and continues fiddling with the radio.

My mom looks at him annoyingly, then at me. “Well, we’ll see when Jeet comes,” she says. “Look at this. His mother sent a photo the other day.”

She goes over to the TV console and digs up a photo from the albums stored there, bringing it to me.

“We’ve been looking for a good proposal for so long, and I really like this boy the best of all. He also looks handsome, doesn’t he?” She shows it to me and waits expectantly as I look it over.

“He’s not too bad looks-wise,” I say honestly.

“You meet first, then you get to know him. If you like him, then you get married. Isn’t it?”

We’re about to argue when Dad intervenes. “We’re only asking you to meet him, dear. Then you can decide.”

“I think you’re going to like him,” Mom says. “And good horoscopes are hard to come by. He sounds perfect.”

“Too perfect to be true!” I mumble.

Lucky for me, the doorbell rings. The prayer meeting is about to begin, and Mom’s friends start pouring in. I take the perfect chance to escape to my bedroom.

***

The prayer meeting is in full swing when Kiara and Khushi arrive. The three of us cozy up in my room to chat and catch up. Dad pops in to offer us snacks and cold drinks meant for the guests post their two-hour chanting session. Dad is such a gem.

We dive into the shiny, diamond-shaped pieces of kaju barfi and the crisp, golden swirls of jalebi, all the while lost in conversation.

My phone pings every now and then. It’s Neel. We’ve been texting more often, and he’s been sharing little snippets of his day, asking about mine. I try to avoid peeping at the messages, but it’s proving to be hard.

“Okay, spill it,” Kiara says abruptly, her voice muffled slightly as she bites into a luscious barfi. “You’ve been glancing at your phone every five seconds.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “What? No, I haven’t.”

Khushi leans forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh please, your face lights up every time it buzzes. Is it Neel?”

I bite my lip, unable to hide my smile. “We...we talked last night. Really talked.”

“And?” Kiara says, leaning in closer.

“We kissed,” I say dreamily, still reliving every moment of it.

Khushi lets out a squeal, quickly muffling it with her hands. “I knew something was up the way you were eyeing the phone. Tell us everything!”

“Well,” I start, fiddling with the edge of my dupatta, “he told me about his past. His ex-wife, the divorce...it wasn’t easy for him.”

Kiara’s expression softens. “Poor guy. How did you handle it?”

“I just listened. And...I told him how I feel about him.”

“Bold move!” Khushi exclaims. “How did he react?”