Brown Queen

Beware BKU Boys

"Have a drink. Relax. That's why you came over here, right?" Varun handed her another thick, ruby concoction. She had already gulped down three of them. What would one more do?

They had chatted for a while, exchanging mandatory introductions and chuckling over common, but necessary politics of Brown Town. Monika had discovered that Varun was your basic brown munda, but he was still somewhat entertaining and intriguing enough for her not to indulge in the guilty thoughts of being away from her newfound girl crew. 

"I mean it's probably annoying to be around smelly dudes all the time. Thankfully, Shina knows how to throw good parties," Varun blew a puff of his Crown Royal-laden breath into the air as if he was smoking a nonexistent vape pen. Monika pursed her lips. This is what boys do right? It's not a big deal. He's one of the coolest guys at BKU. They all do their weird basketball airball moves and pretend to smoke. 

 Varun's caramel tinted eyes twinkled under the dimly lit, abandoned dining area. One that was too elegant to be used for university kids. 

"Bole Chudiyaaaan! Bole Kangana!" Monika's phone blared, signaling Varun to hysterically cackle in the corner of her eye. 

"Zimran? How did you -?" Monika looked at the delicately tiled floor as she spoke. Each tile was adorned with red swirls of grout, forming lotus flower and paisley patterns. 

"Doesn't matter. Where are you?" The tone on the other side of the phone was cut and to the point. 

Monika surveyed the plush iron grey cushioning of the booth, briefly pausing at Varun's unusually manicured nails. 

Scrunching her button nose, Monika responded, "I just needed to get away from the crowd for a bit. You need me or something?"

Monika's ear briefly erupted with the sound of  party dishes clattering to the ground right before the line hung up. Everyone loves the food at Indian restaurants, but maybe it's not the best place to host a sorority party. 

Varun squinted at Monika's tightly fitting churidar leggings. His long, smooth fingers grazed against her stout calf, just enough to send a tingle trickling down Monika's leg, similar to when one of her wispy curly hairs tickled against her skin. 

"Ah! Sorry about that. One of my friends, well I don't know, are we friends? Anyways, ugh. I'm sorry," Monika flapped her hands around, darting her half moon eyes around the room. She wasn't used to sitting alone in fancy restaurants with cute boys. Varun was the kind of guy who wouldn't even think about looking at her back at home in the White Wash district.

Varun scooted so close to her that only a popsicle stick could fit between them, and she felt her breath now smelling similar to his. The air felt fuzzier than before, almost as if Monika was hallucinating. 

"I mean.. You can make it up to me," his words melting into a blur.  Her rounded face dazed at him with his lips on the verge of pollinating hers. 

Monika had no idea what was happening. Her phone started to buzz again, but Monika's arms were tied behind her. Her breath felt like it was outside of her, and she was outside of her own body as a paralyzed observer, a mere bystander, watching and cringing for the evil scene to arrive. 

Suddenly, Varun hooked his long fingers around her lilac laced blouse, trapping her into an embrace by the one corner of the table that was blocked by dusty unplaced pieces of furniture. Her phone didn't quit vibrating, but Monika had grown to like the buzzing feeling against her hips. 

Though the room was practically bare, suddenly high pitched voices filled the atmosphere, gradually getting louder, more familiar. 

"Ahah! What a weird thing to say, right? Gosh! I am so glad we met you tonight, girl."