“Oh, okay.” Rishi nodded, like he understood, and Dimple relaxed. “So you just want me to be humiliated instead.” He raised an eyebrow. “No, Dimple. This is your idea. Let’s do a dance where you have to do most of it.”
Dimple hung her head and scratched at her scalp. “Uggh, then I guess we’ll just have to do something else.” She looked up at her Excel sheet, her heart sinking. Dancing was what would win the first place prize. She knew it in her heart. It would take her that much closer to Jenny Lindt. She’d been counting on Celia—who loved performing and attention and everything that made people exceptional at talent shows—to do the dance. But Rishi? Rishi was too much like her. She sighed. The truth was, she was still glad they were partners. They’d figure out a way.
“Hey.” Rishi’s hand was on hers, and when she looked over, he was smiling. “I’ll do it.”
She blinked. “You’ll do what?”
“I’ll do the stupid dance.” He grinned. “But you owe me.”
“Are you serious?” Dimple couldn’t help grinning too.
“Totally. Now, tell me what song you were thinking of.”
“I can do better than that. I can show you.” Still smiling, Dimple pulled out her headphones, plugged them in, and handed them to Rishi. “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before she could talk herself out of it, and his grin went supernova. Laughing, Dimple queued up “Dil Na Diya” from the movie Krrish on YouTube. “We can practice it after we get out of here, in your room.”
While Rishi listened to the song, Dimple heard Celia’s voice, raised in anger. She turned around in her seat to see her yelling at Evan. “Well, I don’t want to do that! That’s total BS!” And then she turned and stalked away, slamming out of the lecture hall.
CHAPTER 38
Dimple turned to Rishi and mouthed, “I’ll be right back.” He nodded, apparently not having heard anything.
She got up and raced after Celia, catching up with her in the hallway outside. Celia was splashing cold water from the water fountain on the back of her neck, her curls bunched up in one fist. Her cheeks were pink. When she saw Dimple, she let out a shaky breath. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah. I mean, just the last part, before you walked out. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Celia leaned her back against the wall, one knee bent, her foot pressed against the wall. Crossing her arms, she blew out a breath. “Evan’s being a total jerk. He wants to do a dance to this song, ‘Sexy Heat,’ with me and Isabelle and Hari. Have you heard it?”
Dimple shook her head and took a seat on the bench next to the water fountain. It sounds like a real winner, she wanted to say, but managed to chomp down on her tongue somehow.
“It’s total crap. Like, the entire song has the two girls in skimpy outfits dancing together while the guys talk about how hot they are. I mean, I get it. It’s just a talent show, whatever. Isabelle’s totally up for putting on a bikini and dancing with me onstage. But I just . . .” Celia mock-gagged. “It makes me feel gross. I mean, Isabelle’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong.”
Dimple nodded to encourage Celia to keep talking. Of course Isabelle was up for it. She’d probably even eat carbs for that amount of attention. Dimple ignored the pinprick of guilt she felt at the uncharitable thought; Isabelle wasn’t nearly as awful as the guys.
“I just don’t know if I want to be up there onstage on display for everyone to stare at.” Celia waved her hands in the air aggressively. “Am I being too sensitive? They all seem to think so.” She gestured to the lecture hall.
“No.” Dimple reached out and put a hand on Celia’s arm. “Not at all. It’s totally up to you how comfortable you are with this, you know? It’s not up to Evan or Hari or Isabelle. So what if she wants to do it? She’s not you, and you’re not her.” Celia gave her a look, and Dimple chuckled. “I know, I’m very wise. But seriously, don’t give in. It sucks that you’re in a partnership with Evan, or you could just quit. But will Max even let all four of you do this thing together? I mean, I thought partners were supposed to work just with each other.”
“Yeah, I think they worked it out with him. They didn’t tell him what song we’d be dancing to, but he seemed to think it was creative. Each partnership would be judged separately, anyway.”
“Well, could a partnership split up? Because then maybe you could dance with us, and Evan could be the one in a bikini.”
Celia snorted. “Thanks, but I don’t think they’ll let us do that. I should probably figure out a way to deal with this.” She held out her arms and Dimple stood to give her a hug. “Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy. I think I’ve been hanging out with those three for too long.”
“Probably,” Dimple said, pulling back. “Maybe you can come to dinner with Rishi and me tonight. We’re probably going to be eating at the dining hall.”
“Sounds good.” Celia smiled, seemingly cheered at this thought. “Thanks.”
They turned around and walked back into the lecture hall.
? ? ?
“So you have the gist, right?” Dimple asked after they’d watched the “Dil Na Diya” video for the fourth time. They were in Rishi’s room after class, getting ready for their first practice session. “It’s not too complicated? I mean, I know Hrithik’s, like, this world-class dancer. But you don’t have to be. Just get the moves down and it’ll be good. I’ve seen the other talent show winners on YouTube, and it’s not like they were all rock stars. We’re coders, you know? Not . . .” She trailed off at Rishi’s raised eyebrow.
“You’re nervous,” he said, but not accusingly. He was sort of smiling.
Dimple chewed the inside of her cheek. “I guess. Kind of.” But not for the reason he thought. She was nervous because in a moment, he’d see her dancing skills. The video had about two seconds of the girl dancing, but still. She’d never danced in front of anyone since the bhangra puke fiasco. Let alone in front of a boy she actually liked. Whom she’d kissed. Dimple felt herself begin to hyperventilate, so she busied herself with putting her hair up in a bun.
Rishi, oblivious to her internal storm of turmoil, had pushed his bed up against the far wall, so they had a clean rectangle of space to work in. He stood in the middle and nodded, satisfied. “Okay.”
Dimple hit the play button with a shaking finger, and the song flooded the room. Rishi paused, his eyes closed, apparently trying to let the beat move him or something.
Then he jerked, his hands and legs spasming as he tried to copy Hrithik Roshan. He kept going, occasionally glancing at the screen to make sure he had it down. He was grinning now, enjoying himself as he jumped up and landed with his feet wide, then shimmied across the room, nodding his head with a heck yeah expression on his face.
Dimple was sure she was in a dream. That could be the only explanation. She saw her hand float out in front of her and hit the space bar on his laptop, pausing the video.