By the time the call ended, my heart was ready to jump out of my chest. The Airbnb was gone. Their ‘revised’ rate was nowhere near our budget. The host’s polite apology rang in my ears as I stared out of the window, the fog enveloping the road ahead. The next several hours blurred into a frantic mess of checking listings, calling backup stays and praying for a miracle. At some point, I dropped Neil a text.
Me: Major issue!!! Airbnb screwed us. Looking for an alternative. Please tell me that the office shoot is going OK?
I was still waiting to hear back from him as I started the slow uphill walk towards Hillside Bakehouse, the only eatery on Mall Road worth the noisy tourists and the leg workout.
I’d finally texted Arjun that morning—more out of politeness than any sudden desire to catch up with him—and he’d immediately replied asking if I wanted to grab lunch.Let’s just get it over with, I’d thought and sent him a thumbs up.
I spotted him instantly. He was sitting at one of the corner tables way in the back, away from the rush. He’d shaved off the scruffy beard I used to nag him about. His hair was shorter too, neater, but he had the same easy posture and sported the same plaid shirt and old jeans combo I once used to swoon over. He looked familiar and different all at once … like a new cover of an old song.
He greeted me with a warm hug and pressed a tiny kiss on top of my head. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said as he pulled back, gesturing at my indigo print maxi dress.
‘Thanks, Arjun,’ I said, fiddling with my oxidized cuff bracelet. ‘You look great too.’
He held my gaze as we sat down on the table, his light grey eyes smiling up at me. I’d written many oversentimental poems about those eyes as a teenager, back when he had no idea his best friend’s little sister had a massive crush on him. They had slowly come to see me in a different light over the years, softening with every long walk we insisted wasn’t a date. And those same eyes had welled up in that awful, glitchy video call when we’d finally decided to part ways two and a half years ago. His eyes had always been an enigma, a mystery I’d spent years misreading. And now, they were just … a pair of eyes.
Nothing like the dark brown ones that had looked at me with a desire I’d spent all week trying to forget.Stop.I shoved the comparison aside before it could gain momentum.
‘It’s been forever,’ he said after a few seconds of hesitant silence. ‘How are you? Is Mumbai treating you well?’
‘As well as it can, I guess.’
He creased his brows. ‘Everything okay?’
I gave him my most convincing smile. ‘Yes, yes. Things have been much better, actually. My new flatmate is amazing … we’re very different but I love hanging out with her. Work is looking up too …’ I trailed off as a fresh wave of anxiety washed over me.
Or at least, it was looking up … until I got handed a huge opportunity that I’m now dangerously close to messing up.
‘What’s wrong, Kavya?’ He leaned forward, his hand lifting towards mine before he caught himself and dropped it back onto the table.
‘Ah, it’s nothing. I’m just facing some issues with this ad shoot I’m in town for.’ I rubbed my forehead and filled him in on theAirbnb fiasco. He listened intently, his expression somewhere between concern and calculation, like he was mentally trying to come up with solutions for a problem that had nothing to do with him.
He was quiet for a moment, tapping his thumb against the edge of the table. ‘Why don’t you just shoot at my place?’
‘What?’
‘My guest house,’ he clarified. ‘You’ve seen it before, no? Well, maybe not after the renovation. It overlooks the valley, the view is insane and it’s pretty isolated. No neighbours, no noise. And definitely no host trying to scam you.’
I stared at him, at a complete loss for words. ‘Arjun … are you being serious?’
‘Of course I am.’
A warm rush of relief spread through my chest before I could fully consider his offer. ‘Wow. I … I don’t even know what to say.’
‘Say yes?’ he offered lightly, like he hadn’t just done me a gigantic favour. ‘I can take you up there after lunch for a quick tour.’
‘Yes,’ I said, feeling so small it hurt.
How was it that the guy I’d hoped to keep at an arm’s length was the one showing up for me … and the one I wanted beside me kept drifting further away?
eighteen
Lights, Camera, Friction
WhenNeil’s name flashed on my phone screen the next morning, I was tempted to let it ring out. It would’ve served him right for going AWOL on me all day yesterday. He’d only responded to my panicked messages after dinner, sending me one dry update: The office shoot had been hectic, but it had ultimately gone okay, and he hoped I’d managed to find a backup location option for Mussoorie. Nothing else.
But the uneasiness that something might’ve gone wrong pushed me to pick up. ‘What do you want?’
‘Um, hello to you too,’ he said, sounding taken aback and amused at the same time. ‘I emailed you the rushes from yesterday’s shoot. Did you check them out?’
