1.1 | Milkshakes For Sale

09 | red-velvet cheesecake

⋆ ——————— sitara ⋮ ⋆

"Look out from your balcony," Shaurya said and I frowned, jumping out of my bed and walking to my balcony. There he was, in a sage green t-shirt and light-washed jeans, with his hands raised in a wave.

My jaw fell open. "You said you were busy!" I said into the phone, a child-like excitement rushing through me.

"I was busy coming to pick you up," He said. I looked at him staring at me and I felt my cheeks heat up. He was doing something to my heart. "We're going on a date. You have fifteen minutes, Sitar."

"You should have told me sooner. Where are we going? Should I dress nice or casual?" I asked, my brain rushing.

"Casual," He said. I nodded and hung up, almost stumbling to my room. It was almost six in the evening so I had a feeling we were going to the movies. I picked out a solid lavender placket blouse and then jumped into my jeans, tripping a little as I pulled it on. He hadn't given me time to straighten my hair a little so I had to tie my wavy hair into a high ponytail. I pulled out a few strands of my hair in the front to cover the tiny constellation of acne on the side of my forehead. I put on light makeup and then applied a thick coat of gloss.

Fastening my watch on my wrist, I picked up my bag and went out of my room. I informed Ma that I was meeting Shaurya and skipped down to the elevator. I was excited.

It was our first date.

When the doors opened, I met Shaurya, leaning against the opposite wall, scrolling through his phone. "Hey, boyfriend!" I said, patting his shoulders.

"Boyfriend? I thought we were skipping the labels," he said.

"I always wondered how it would sound. Calling a guy my boyfriend. I didn't want to miss the opportunity because you'll be my fiancé soon." I shrugged.

"Well then, girlfriend. Shall we go?" He played along.

"Am I decent?" I waved to my outfit and he nodded but then a slight frown took its place. He lifted my hand and snapped a loose thread hanging from my sleeve.

"All good now," he said.

I grabbed my helmet — Shaurya got an extra one personally for me (how sweet is that?) — and buckled it in. I got on and clutched his shirt as he reversed the vehicle. He removed my hands and tugged them closer to wrap around his waist. "How many times have I told you to hold onto me and not my shirt?" He said.

"Sorry," I said, and tightened my hold. Wind blew threw my hair and rushed against my face as we went into the city. "Wait, I forgot to ask. Where are we going?"

"You'll see," He said.

"Tell me, Shaurya!"

He didn't answer. I sighed and rested my head against his back and watched the neon billboards blur past in a mix of colours. At that point of time, I had already figured out we weren't going to the movies.

Shaurya took a sharp right, into a street so narrow that not more than two motorbikes can pass through it at once. I had never visited this part of Kawanpur. This was more of the clustered and stuffed part of the city. I wondered if he had lost his way. Before I could ask him, he parked his bike and killed the engine.

"Here?" I asked.

"Trust me, Sitar," He said, helping me get off the bike. The smell of masala and spice wafted in the air, unbelonging to the street. I frowned.

He wove his fingers through mine tightly and led the way. There were various repair shops, stacked with broken mixer grinders and electronics. A little stall selling flowers was on the left, right next to a fancy jewellery shop. The plump man sat inside his shed-like shop and shook his head firmly at the customer, not giving into her bargain. There were a lot of tiny stalls and when we got to the end of the street, Shaurya pulled me to the path cutting right.