Accidentally, In love ( UNDER EDITING )

Chapter 29 : Point Three

Chapter 29 :  Point Three

Arnaud’s Point Of View.

“Coffee-voffee,sugar-vugar,paper-vaper,
News-vews,clock-vock,time-vime,run-vun
Train-vain,pass-vass,late-vate,class-vass
Friendship-vendship,bonding-vonding, fun-vun.”

Seated in my king sized bed in the luxurious  penthouse suite, I am watching this particularly interesting Bollywood movie, called English Vinglish on the Hotel LED Screen. It’s about this beautiful, middle-aged, married, Indian lady; who is learning to speak English at an English speaking course in Manhattan.

The class reminds me of the time Zoya used to teach me Statistics. We were like the people on screen, a heterogenous bunch of people from different parts of the world having a mutual love for numbers. She was one of the sweetest teachers I had ever had, not to mention the sexiest.

Those few months were sheer torture, not being able to ask her out or talk to her, about things other than Stats. Lady luck finally had pity on me, when she agreed to by my date for the party and after that there was no looking back.

A soft whistle breaks through my nostalgic musing. I search for my smartphone phone and find it under my pillow.

1 Message.

The atmosphere is cool. Ice has not melted. I am trying my level best, have turned on the heat.Don’t keep your hopes too high. Pia.

I stare at the screen as these words dance around in front of me.

No.

 Pia is not talking about the weather in Delhi, while it is cold, there is no ice so as to speak. Here she is alluding to the cold atmosphere in the Subramaniam house hold and and the ice refers to her parents who are unrelenting. Breaking news. They have every right to be. They are the wronged party.

I think hard and fast. I do not have a lot of time to waste. I need to come up with a plan real soon or my only best option is to pack my bags and catch the next flight back to the States.

I stare at the ceiling where the French guy is talking to the Indian lady. If only real life could be like a movie. If only there would be a happy ending for me and Zoya in this story.

Our story.

I remember something a friend told me. “This is not someone else’s fairy tale. It’s yours. Give it the ending that you want.”

This is my story. Hell yeah! I am not going to let the Subramaniams enjoy any more limelight and attention. It’s back to the hero and heroine. Zoya and Arnaud.

A hazy plan based on something that I had once seen in a Bollywood movie started forming in my head. I jumped up from the bed and knocked on the connecting door.

Ava opens the door and gives me the raised eyebrow. I show her my phone.

“Dios mio. What are we going to do now?” She asks me while handing over the phone to Laurent.

He reads the text quickly and gives me a puzzled look.

« J’ai une idée. J’ai besoin de vos aide. » I tell them, Times of extreme duress and excitement always gets me using my mother tongue.

“Oui,” they both scream in unison.

I tell them my plan, they nod excitedly, Ava raises a concern, we find a Plan B in case our main plan does not work out. Laurent agrees to supervise the smooth execution of the plan. We huddle together like a football team before a match. Except that it was just the three of us.