He shakes his head, still amused at his own joke. I can’t help but smile despite myself. His laughter is infectious. “It’s your turn now,” he says, leaning back against the rock and looking at me expectantly. If he thinks I did not notice how swiftly he changed the topic and make it about me, he’s wrong. But I will play along because I don’t want to intrude and make him feel uncomfortable.
What do I even tell him? I don’t have any secrets. I have not had an interesting life. All I ever did was study. Yes, I didhave my teenage rebel period when I decided to get an extra ear piercing which I later regretted seeing the look on my parents face.
“Well, I won’t say it’s a secret,” I look into his eyes. “But it’s something most people don’t know about me. At least here, because I didn’t share it with them. I am a pure Desi girl. I love Bollywood music, movies, and everything that connects me to my roots.” I play with my hair, unsure whether I want to know his reaction or not. When I was new here and trying to make new friends, whenever I talked to them about Bollywood or India in general, they laughed at me. I mean, it can be a little vibrant and dramatic—fine, a lot dramatic—but still, it’s beautiful, and I love my culture. I just stopped mentioning it to everyone. If they don’t like it, they won’t hear it from me.
“What’s your favorite movie? Recommend me something.” He smiles. Seeing his eyes twinkle with curiosity, the way he is interested in knowing more about it rather than laughing at my choices, my heart beats faster.
“I am absolutely obsessed with Shahrukh Khan. So any one of his movies works for me. But I love, love, loveMy Name Is KhanandDear Zindagi. They’re literally works of art.” I buzz with excitement. “There’s alsoRab Ne Bana Di Jodi, even though it’s a little stupid. But my God, it’s just a wonder how his chemistry with any heroine is on point.” I smile widely.
I turn to look at him, finding him staring at me, a small smile on his face. “What?” I say, a little embarrassed about my ranting. He shakes his head.
“Guess I will have to check it out then,” he says. “I was not expecting that.”
I tilt my head in confusion. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“Seeing how feisty you are, I thought you’d be into crime documentaries and all.”
I smirk, feeling a little bold. I signal for him to come a bit closer. When he does, my breath stallsin my throat, but I manage to speak. “You’ve guessed it right! I do know multiple ways to murder someone. I like reading murder mysteries, and I’m obsessed with crime documentaries.” I wink at him.
“Please don’t hurt me, firecracker.” He raises his hands in surrender and I roll my eyes, chuckling.
“Oh, don’t worry.” I grin, leaning toward him. “I wouldn’t dream of hurting you…too much.” He laughs, the sound sending a strange flutter through my stomach. I realize with a start that I might actually be enjoying myself.
Before he can respond, I add quickly, “I’m not exactly a people person, you know.” I try to brush it off, but his expression shifts, his eyes darkening for a moment.
“Firecracker.” He smiles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, that now-familiar nickname escaping his lips. There’s a playful gleam in his eyes as he looks at me, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to focus on anything else. He leans a little closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. “I’m glad to know I’m someone you trust then,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth.
I lean back against the rock, trying to calm the strange flutters his voice causes in my chest. “Well, you better count yourself lucky then.” I huff, trying to sound nonchalant. “I don’t just open up to anyone.” That’s true and it’s a mystery even to me why I’m talking to this guy.
I study his face for a moment, taking in the way his smile curves his lips, the stubble on his jaw, and the way his eyes seem to hold a depth that I can’t quite decipher. It’s both fascinating and alarming how much he affects me.
My phone rings, breaking the silence. I almost fall off the rock, but he holds my arm, stabilizing me.
“Whoa. You okay there?” he asks, and I nod, trying to ignore the lingering touch of his fingers on my arm, that felt oddly electric against my skin. I reach for my phone and see that Sophia is calling me. Her name flashes on the screen,and I thank her silently for interrupting this moment.
“Hey! Where are you?!” she yells over the loud music playing inside, worry lacing her voice. She was with me the whole time but I felt guilty that she wasn’t able to enjoy the party because of me so after a lot of ‘I will be fine’ she finally left.
“I am in the backyard. I will meet you inside,” I add.
Daniel enacts something with his hand. “What?” I ask, covering the speaker.
“I will book you a cab,” he says. I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, he says, “Don’t protest, firecracker.” He sighs.
“Fine,” I respond.
“Meet me outside. Our cab is on the way.” Daniel gives me a smile as he looks up from his phone. My heart leaps at the sight of his dimple, and I smile back.
“Okay,” Sophia replies, and I end the call, standing up, feeling my sore bum.
“Ugh, it’s going to hurt, but I guess it was worth it.” I whisper.
“I will see you around then,” he says. I nod, trying to act nonchalant, but I’m acutely aware of the disappointment I feel at our time together coming to an end.
“See you around,” I murmur, my eyes lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.
I turn to leave, but before I can take a step, I hear his voice again. “Firecracker.”
I turn back to him, raising an eyebrow, my heart skipping a beat at the nickname. “What?”
