When Dimple Met Rishi

by Sandhya Menon

I.I.H., for the uninitiated, stood for Ideal Indian Husband.

Papa grimaced. “Ritu auntie,” he said, half resigned, half annoyed. He reached over and grabbed the phone. “Important phone call,” he murmured as he disappeared around the corner. “Traitor,” Dimple called softly at his retreating back.

Mamma often lamented that her first word had been “why.”

So many boys go there for engineering. You’ll have the pick of the litter.” Ritu auntie looked at her with an expectant gleam in her eyes.

God I realise it’s not entirely to such an extent but the fact that I relate to so much of this ugh

Papa and Mamma looked at each other. It always amazed her, how they could seemingly communicate without speaking. She wondered what that was like, that level of intense bond.

his five-foot-eight-inch frame.

Oooh short boi rep!!

He’d go to MIT; maybe she’d transfer there or somewhere close by. They could hang out, date for a couple of years through college and maybe grad school, and then get married.

Yikes

“You spent a thousand dollars on something that you’re not passionate about?” She stared at him, seemingly dumbfounded. “So he wants to expand his horizons; don’t be so judgy,” Celia said.

He got this little crease between his eyebrows when he was mad, Dimple noticed. And then tried to unnotice.

Rishi froze, his eyes gazing down right into hers. They weren’t more than three inches apart. Strange things were happening in the pit of his stomach. Fun things.

So it was a kind of magic, being here in this antiques store with a boy whose eyes were just the right shade of honey.

“This should cover seven full course meals, right? Plus tip? Just keep the change.” The waiter took the money and discreetly slipped it into a bill holder he pulled from the pocket of his apron. “Of course, sir. I shall be taking care of your table myself.” Rishi grinned at him, and after a moment, the waiter grinned back.

This sounds like dude is bout to get scammed

Dimple noticed—like they didn’t know what to do with someone who was so obviously at home with his uncoolness.

“I guess I never really got why the kids in my private school thought they were such hot stuff. I mean, it’s our parents who did all the hard work. We were just born into it. It’s like being proud that you’re tall or have thick hair or perfectly spaced eyes. Absurd.”

“You’re so chivalrous. Is that your desi breeding or your millionaire breeding?” He rolled his eyes. “It’s my Patel breeding. We Patel boys are very well behaved, you know. Ma wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He watched her surreptitiously. She was lost in thought, and the emotions on her face were sort of amusing. There was something dreamy, and then a flash of irritation, and then more dreaminess before irritation erased it again. His lips twitched; he wondered what she was thinking about.

You obviously

If she had the money, she’d just go sit in a salon and have them shampoo her hair for a full day.

Utterly sure of himself in a really comfortable way. There was something about people who were that secure; they made you feel better about yourself, like they accepted you for everything you were, imperfections and all.

In her eyes, women went to college just to make themselves more marketable to guys.

I mean, I was already going through that phase at my school where I felt like my family was weird and different and I just wished they’d be like all the other parents. But then I went to Mumbai and realized that to all the people there, I was American. I was still the outsider, and still strange, and I still didn’t belong.”

“What, Rishi?” “Ah …” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her sidelong. “That’s just the first time you haven’t pretended to be oblivious to the fact that you have a certain … effect on me when you laugh.” Dimple felt her cheeks burning, and she looked down at her boots. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rishi chuckled quietly. “Yeah, I think you do, but I’ll let it go, since you clearly don’t want to talk about it.” And Dimple found herself feeling just the slightest bit disappointed.

“Are you afraid that you don’t belong here? Or that you do?”

Ugh. It was so frustrating how he was doing that. Dimple didn’t know what, exactly, he was doing, but it was definitely frustrating.

Softly, he said, “Kismet.” She looked at him, big eyes luminous and almost black in the light from the phone. “Kismet.”

Rishi kissed her with purpose, with meaning, like he believed this was exactly where they were supposed to be in this moment. He kissed her till she believed it too.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, like it was the most natural thing to do. Was this going to be their thing now, casual kissing? He hoped so.

She knew she should discourage him. She also knew she didn’t want to. If this was how Rishi Patel showed his interest in her, if this was him wooing her, she wanted more. More, more, more.

God, why couldn’t the legal drinking age be eighteen in the US? European teens didn’t know how good they had it.

Rishi looked at her, his gaze sweeping from her eyes to her lips to her collarbone to her chest, her waist, the curve of her hips. Dimple felt warm in spite of the cool breeze; the gauze of Celia’s dress seemed to cling tighter to every part of her body.

Paint me like one of your french girls?

he was like a pop song you thought you couldn’t stand, but found yourself humming in the shower anyway.

“Okay, but you do realize this means we’ll have to get up onstage? And actually dance?” Rishi leaned forward in his chair. “Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re sort of an introvert.”

But that’s not fair, Dimple found herself thinking, her temper flaring. Why was it Rishi’s responsibility to keep their parents happy while Ashish got to do whatever he wanted?

“So, obviously, when you saw her again, the appropriate first response was to hook up with her. In the time it took me to take a shower.” Ashish looked up at him defensively. “We didn’t actually do it. There wasn’t time for that. We just did other stuff. You were gone almost forty minutes!” Rishi groaned and put his head in his hands.

Oh my god kill me now Older siblings worst nightmare

I had a girlfriend at the time—not

Bi rep too! Daaayum

“Avoid the topic at all costs, Ashish.” The boy was lucky he had a bhaiyya like Rishi, who was willing to look out for him. “Seriously. If she tries to bring it up, just change the topic. Walk away. I can run interference for you at the table too. It’ll blow over.” “Really?” Ashish said a tad dubiously, which was pretty ungrateful, Rishi thought. “Wouldn’t it be better just to talk to her? See what she thinks about all of it?” “Mistake.” Rishi shook his head. “Big mistake.

Rishi you idiot

If Rishi had known he was being so uncool, he would’ve trashed his phone. It just went to show, you could be a player, but really connecting with a woman took smarts. Which, obviously, Rishi had.

Oh god you’re an absolute idiot

Her knees felt weak, like they might buckle. She wanted to sit. On his lap. Or lie down. With him.

We need to talk before we go further.” “Right. So … I think we should go further.” Rishi laughed and groaned simultaneously, rubbing a hand over his face.

She was still lying on top of him, her soft lines molded to his hard ones.

This always confuses me you know? Bodies are just warm solid weight Even muscles are soft when relaxed So unless boy is bony af, why would his lines be hard?

“We haven’t finished our discussion from Rios. And you’re driving me insane. It’s going to be hard to stop if we keep going. I mean, it’s already hard.” Rishi turned to her suddenly, studying her smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

Was this what lust was? Did it turn you into this brazen, dauntless person who asked for what she wanted in spite of usually being racked with social anxiety? Maybe Dimple ought to spend more time in a state of frenzied desire.

“She’s just doing this because she wants to finally have that high school experience she never had. It means nothing.” Ashish swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. He looked down at her. “That just makes it worse,” he said, and walked out just as Evan picked up Celia with one arm and she began squealing.

Rishi wasn’t even sure an ice pack was how you treated a bloody nose, but he was enjoying the attention too much to tell her. Across the tiny room Ashish grinned at him. Celia was hovering near him, dabbing at his cut lip with a wet washcloth. She’d scrubbed her face free of the thick makeup, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and pulled her voluminous hair back into a ponytail. She looked much more like herself, and Rishi was glad. “Totally worth it,” Ashish said. Rishi laughed. “Yep.”

Idiots I’m so here for it

“Take a nap with me?” She snuggled in, her hair tickling his nose, flooding him with the scent of coconuts and jasmine. “Okay,” she said, yawning. “We’ve earned it.”

Was she just going to extinguish it all because of timing? But she knew the answer. Yes, she would. Yes, because this was not the plan.

Lmao for someone that wants that youthful adventure and freedom u sure as hell are sticking to a plan rather fiercely