Page 171 of Glass Jawed
Liam tries to join in, attempting a twirl with Kashvi, but she swats him away like an annoying fly. I nearly choke on my laugh.
Rohi and I find a rhythm, her gaze locked on mine as she mouths the lyrics with such intensity, it’s like she’s singing themjust for me.
I lean in, half breathless. “What’s the name of this song?”
She throws her head back and yells over the music, grinning wide.“Tere Pyaar Mein!”
God. What I wouldn’t give to know Hindi right now.
“What’s that mean in English?” I shout back.
She hesitates, suddenly flustered in the most adorable way. “In... in your lo—”
We’re interrupted by the joyful shriek of Kiki Aunty.
“Mumma!”
She inserts herself right between us like a wrecking ball of maternal chaos. One second we’re a duo, the next—we’re a trio.
Wait. What was Rohi about to say? In your... what?Love?
Fuuuck.
And then Kiki Aunty strikes. Her hands—suspiciously fisted—reveal blobs of turmeric paste, which she gleefully smears onto both our cheeks at the same time.
Before I can even process it, she laughs and waltzes off.
I wipe at my cheek, still moving to the beat, until I glance at Rohi—and freeze.
She’s gone still. Not dancing. Notblinking.
I gently take her by the arm and turn her toward me.
She shakes her head once, dazed, and then lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. Like she can’t quite believe what just happened.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I lift my fingers—still streaked withhaldi—and swipe them across the tip of her nose.
She scrunches it and smiles, slow and radiant.
We fall right back into the rhythm, dancing like two absolute idiots, too caught up in the music and each other to care.
Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she swipes a bit of paste from her own cheek and smears it on my nose.
My random little gesture returned.
Then Kashvi drags my Rohi away from me—straight into a circle of giggling, dancing women. Their laughter rises over the beat.
Wait... I know this song.Kala Chashma.
Kiki Aunty told me it meant “black goggles” or something. Fitting—nearly everyone’s wearing sunglasses now, including Rohi. She looks like agoddess.
The playlist shifts rapidly, each song bleeding into the next. Everyone is lost in their own blissful rhythm.
I wander to a quieter corner, grabbing a glass of coke. Watching her.
That’s all I ever do these days. Watch her. Want her. Wonder.Hope.
A few minutes pass before Kashvi saunters over to me, building what looks like a very chaotic cocktail of vodka, tonic, and something orange.
