One of the übercostumed guys passing by threw them a dirty look, and Dimple pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “Well, I guess I’d better get started.” She sat on the stool nearest her, setting her bag on the table. Rishi took the stool next to hers.
They were already wearing most of their costumes. Luckily, Anushka Sharma and Shah Rukh Khan wore pretty simple outfits in the official “Dance Pe Chance” video—athletic clothes for her, pants and a jacket and shirt for him. It was just another reason Ashish’s idea to use the song had been so genius. Now Dimple could focus on not blundering the steps and falling off the stage.
“Celia isn’t here,” Rishi said simply.
Dimple didn’t answer the question he wasn’t asking. “Nope.” She concentrated on plugging in her hair straightener—which she’d borrowed from a girl down the hall who was going to be wearing a wig tonight anyway—and laid out her makeup. Powder foundation, eyeliner (not kaajal; Mamma would be so disappointed), and lip gloss. She tried not to think about what was probably happening out there: The show didn’t start for another forty-five minutes, but some of the early birds in the audience would be filtering in. Each segment was supposed to be no longer than five minutes, and Dimple and Rishi didn’t come on till the middle, so they probably had close to two hours of waiting left. Urrrrgh.
“I heard the audience is supposed to be a mix of art and theater students attending summer camps,” Louis, a quiet, blond boy said. He was sitting on Dimple’s right, dressed in a suit with a red handkerchief poking out from his pocket. A black top hat, white gloves, and a bouquet of colorful plastic flowers sat on the counter at his elbow.
“Magic?” Dimple guessed, nodding toward his accoutrements.
He nodded. “I’ve been doing it since I was seven.” He nodded toward his partner, who was sitting beside him, playing on his phone. “Connor’s my assistant. I’ll saw him in half at the end. I think we have a real shot at winning.”
Dimple’s spreadsheet said otherwise. Magic was a notoriously poor performer. “Cool.”
“What about you guys?” he asked, glancing over at Rishi, who, totally unself-consciously, was practicing a few moves in front of the mirror.
“We’re doing a dance to an Indian song,” Dimple said, feeling a flurry of nerves in her belly.
Louis’s eyes drifted to Rishi’s gyrating form. “Oh,” he said slowly. “Good luck.”
? ? ?
Max stood between their stools and smiled at them. This was their second visit in ten minutes. Ashish had been in before Max, to assure them that he was armed and ready with the music. He kept saying, “Chill, dudes, you’re going to be great.” Dimple knew he was trying to be helpful, but at the end she’d wanted to bash him over the head with her stool. She’d been glad when he left. Honestly, with her nerves the way they were, the only person she could stand to be around right then was Rishi.
“You guys ready?” Max asked, looking from Rishi to Dimple. His smile, hidden snugly behind his beard and mustache, faded slightly as he took in her face. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, “You’re going to be great. You’re rehearsed. Just go out there and have fun.”
Oh great. She was one of the hand on the shoulder people. Dimple nodded, gulped, and smiled.
“Two minutes, okay?” He patted Rishi on the back and turned on his heel to wait for Louis and Connor to finish their magician’s act. From the scattered applause, it didn’t sound like it was going so well so far.
“Oh God,” Dimple said, clutching her stomach. Her newly straightened hair fell into her face. “What if they start booing us? Should we finish? Or should we just bow and walk out? I mean, it’s so undignified to keep performing while people boo, right? Or what if they throw stuff? I’ve heard those theater students can be heartless because their standards are so high. . . .”
“Don’t worry,” Rishi said, stretching his arms above his head. How the heck did he look so relaxed? How? “I’ll be your body shield.”
She glared at him. “Not funny, Patel.”
CHAPTER 49
Rishi didn’t understand how Dimple could be so nervous. They’d watched the rehearsal videos together. She was amazing, so apsara-like, he felt bad for the other performers. They may as well just pack up and go home now.
He ran a finger down her arm and reveled in the way goose bumps sprouted on her skin. She was so incredibly beautiful, even then, with that frenzied, nervous energy emanating from her. Her eyes were wild behind her glasses (she’d refused to consider taking them off for the dance, afraid she’d tumble right off the stage, even though her eyes weren’t that bad), and she kept swallowing compulsively. She was probably so full of air she’d lift off the stage like a balloon, Rishi thought with a smile. But he probably shouldn’t tell her that.
He wrapped his hand around Dimple’s as they walked to the wings. They heard Louis and Connor finishing up, the audience clapping halfheartedly. Max turned and winked before walking out onstage to introduce them.
“There are so many people here,” Dimple murmured, peeking through a little opening at the audience.
Rishi took the chance to steal one last look at her. He didn’t care about this whole talent show thing very much, not beyond the fact that it mattered to Dimple. He was lucky; his lack of caring made him supremely un-nervous. He watched the tiny pulse fluttering at Dimple’s neck, the way her shoulders were bunched up around her ears. She wanted this so much. So, so much.
He leaned in and kissed her temple. “Tujhme rab dikhta hai,” he whispered, an over-the-top line from the movie their song came from. It meant I see God in you. He watched her smile and roll her eyes. And then he said, “I love you.”
She jumped and turned to look at him, eyes wide, just as Max announced their names. Rishi grinned and pulled her onstage.
It was dark while they took their positions. Dimple looked at the outline of Rishi next to her. She heard the near absolute silence of people in the audience. A few shifted; someone coughed. She felt herself breathe.
I love you.
He’d really, finally said the words. Rishi loved her. When the lights came on, Dimple was smiling.
The music began and Dimple started to move. She knew Rishi was doing his part, but she wasn’t focused on him. She wasn’t focused on what the audience was looking at. She just kept moving the way she’d been practicing all week, the way her body knew she should move. And mixed in with the music and the beat, she kept hearing, I love you. I love you. I love you.
Then the song was over. She and Rishi came together to bow. And the theater cracked open with applause.
They ran offstage together the moment the spotlights went off. Dimple was giggling so hard, Rishi was worried she’d keel over. They were holding hands again, but this time, she was the one pulling them offstage.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. We did it.”