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She flashed me a sunny smile as she picked up my fork and stuck it into a french fry.My fry!
“You’re taking this too seriously,”she said around a mouthful of fries.
I grabbed my fries and set them out of her reach. Was it not enough that Deep and his sister were making me so bloody miserable? Now I had to share my french fries too?
“Hands off,” I snarled when she extended a perfectly manicured hand towards the plate. “And this is a very serious issue, Nivy! That bitch has issued a statement claiming that they called off the wedding because I wasn’t suitable for their family. I?Iwasn’t suitable fortheirawful family?”
“But you weren’t, were you?” Nivy asked calmly, reaching out and dragging the plate of fries closer to her.
“Please! I was extremely suitable for their family. It was her awful brother who wasn’t suitable for me. Besides, he didn’t call off the wedding. I did!”
“Jessie, unless you want to go public with the fact that you saw your fiancé getting a blow job from a woman in a parking lot, you’re going to have to let this go,” said Nivy, firmly.
Ma had forbidden me from telling anyone the gory details of what I had seen because not shaming their family in public was the easiest way to repay the Maharawal for everything he had done for us after my father died. I knew she was right, but it killed me to think that Deep’s sister, Anika, was making me look bad in the press.
Nivy and I spent the next thirty minutes munching our fries silently at our table by the window. That was the best part about her. She always knew when I didn’t want to talk. When I needed to just sit and brood in silence. She had pulled out a script from her bag and was engrossed in it, while I sat and stared at the rain coming down in sheets outside the window. Devgarh barely had a monsoon, so rain in November was as unheard of as snow in the Rann of Kutch. But the weather seemed to match my mood.
Ma and Nivy had bullied me into getting out of the palace, and I had spent the whole morning peering listlessly at one outfit after another at my favourite designer store, as Nivy shopped for her wedding trousseau. She didn’t care about my monosyllabic replies and talked enough for both of us.
I had moped my way around the store rejecting lehenga after lehenga when my phone had pinged with a google alert. Anika and Deep hadn’t even warned us before they issued a statement. So it was a shock to find myself inundated with calls from reporters and friends, wanting to know my side of the story. I couldn’t even think of what Veer and my mother were probably facing. I was sitting on a sofa with my phone in my hand, trying not to hyperventilate when Nivy walked out of the changing room.
She took one look at my face and ran to change back into her clothes. Once she had reassured the anxious designer and promised to come back for another fitting, she dragged me to the café next door and ordered a big portion of french fries, because everyone knows that there’s nothing like the taste of crisp salty fries doused in ketchup to get your mind off your troubles.
The place was fairly empty, which was a blessing because the last thing I needed right then was to smile politely at Nivy’s fans. Of which, there were many since she was the reigning queen of Bollywood.
Finally, she set her script down and leaned forward.
“Jessie, you need to think about your next step. Do you know what you want to do?”
I nodded glumly.
“I know what I have to do, but I don’t want to do it.”
“What is it?”
I stared at her for a second, but the concern on her face made me feel guilty because I knew that even though Nivy didn’t understand why I wanted to enter into a loveless marriage with Deep, she had stood by me through the roka and the rest of the wedding drama.
“I know I should start working out so that I don’t spend a fortune on new clothes for your wedding, but all I want to do is eat my body weight in chocolate,” I said, with a straight face.
There was complete silence for a minute, and I risked a peek at Nivy. She sat there with her mouth opening and closing like the big fish in my mother’s aquarium. When I couldn’t hide my grin, she closed her mouth with a snap and banged a hand on the table.
“Jayshree Singh, will you be serious for once in your life?”
I knew it was very juvenile of me, but I burst out laughing. The look on her face was priceless. But what did she expect? She knew my motto. When in distress, deflect. Always deflect. Never confide.
In all the years that we had been friends, Nivy and I had shared plenty of laughs. She had shared her dreams and her heartbreak with me when Veer had asked Anika out on a date. She had shared every little thing that happened to her in Mumbai. But I had guarded my secrets and my pain jealously, hoarding them like my ancestors used to hoard treasure.
There were times when I wanted to open up to Nivy, for she was the sister of my soul. But she was so gorgeous and perfect, that I stayed silent. For how could I expect her to understand the depths of my despair? She didn’t know what it was to be fat and plain and… unwanted.
So I hid my tears and turned them into jokes. The more upset I was, the more extravagant my pranks turned out. And that is how a simple visit to an old age home the day after the scene with Aryan on my eighteenth birthday turned into a hostage situation. But I didn’t want to think about that. Not when Nivy was packing her stuff away, anger evident in every line of her body. Oops.
“I’m sorry, Nivy. I was just being funny. Well, not completely, for my motherwilldisown me if I buy any more clothes. But...”
“You know what? I don’t care! You can take your jokes and stuff them up your ass, Jessie. I was only trying to help,” she snapped.
I sighed.
“Okay, listen. Just stop packing. It’s making me nervous to see how neatly you pack your fricking handbag. That’s not normal Nivy. Does my brother know that you’re such a neat freak?”
