My So-Called Bollywood Life

by Nisha Sharma

  “Wha—”

  He tilted his head at Winnie and cranked up the volume. The room dimmed, and Winnie turned toward Mr. Reece to ask him if he knew what was going on, but her faculty advisor had abandoned her.

  The beat morphed into an Indian song so familiar that the microphone slipped from her hands and landed with a sharp crack on the stage floor.

  Her mouth fell open as a spotlight illuminated a figure in the middle of the dance floor.

  Dev.

  He was wearing a fedora. Indian guys only wore fedoras when they were about to bust out some really cheesy Michael Jackson moves.

  Dev did a pelvic thrust and a mini moonwalk to a drumbeat right before the chorus started. Classic Michael.

  He transitioned into an arm wave before popping, locking, and pointing at her with a wink.

  The crowd was cheering, fists pumping with the music, even though only a handful of people in the ballroom understood the lyrics. Dev had an innate rhythm that Winnie had never expected. A lot of Indian guys danced, but this was Dev! The same Dev who mocked her love for Bollywood dance numbers. Yet there he was, in the middle of the floor, killing it.

  He ran forward, fell to his knees, and skidded to a halt in front of her with outstretched arms. She knew the song and the dance that accompanied it better than anyone. This was the part where the girl jumped in and started dancing, too. She leaned down and whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He stood and grabbed her hand, tugging her off the stage. She fell into his arms, and before she could regain her equilibrium, Dev was spinning her close.

  “How’s this for Bollywood hero?” he said.

  She watched the crowd twirl around her as she moved. Dev let go of her hand, and she managed to stop before crashing into a nearby table. When she looked toward Dev again, she was smacked in the face with another surprise.

  He had backup dancers. She saw Jai and the South Asian dance team move in synchronized movements around them. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t imagining things, but there they were. Dev and the team followed the same choreography as in the movie.

  Bridget appeared at her side and gave her arm a push. “Dev wanted to do this for you. This is your song, girl! He’s telling you that he’s more important than some stupid prophecy ever could be. Are you really going to stand here, gaping and shocked, while the one guy who actually cares more than Raj ever could, more than any guy ever has, dances to get your attention?”

  Winnie looked over at Dev, whose smile was wavering. He was dancing for her, probably feeling even more embarrassed than she did. She had to give him points for being unique. Winnie reached for Dev, and he was right there waiting for her.

  She moved with him to the music, and the sound of screams and cheers was so loud that she almost couldn’t hear herself think. Dev grinned at her, and in the final chorus, others joined the dance floor, until there were bodies everywhere, bumping together, jumping and moving to the sound of her favorite song.

  Winnie gripped Dev’s shoulders, and he came to a stop, took off his fedora, and dropped it on her head. He leaned in close, pressed his cheek to hers, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “I think I understand why Bollywood movies have songs,” he said. “They understand that sometimes people feel so much they have to sing and dance about it. Winnie, no one else makes me want to sing and dance like you do. No one else could get me to sing and dance. It’s taken three and a half years for me to get your attention, but now that you’re looking at me, I want you to know that I’ll make sure every day we have together is just as filmi as the next.”

  He framed her face in his hands. The lights pulsed and the music thrummed around them as Winnie watched Dev’s mouth and listened to his muffled words. They poured through her heart and brightened every part of her.

  She gripped his wrists. “I have to tell you something.”

  Dev leaned his forehead against hers. The fedora tilted up under his sweet gesture. “What?”

  “Screw filmi. The real thing with you is so much better.” Winnie reached up and kissed him. He opened his mouth, and they melted closer together. Despite the number of people who jostled them, they stayed connected, with the music, with their feelings, and with each other. For the first time in so long, Winnie truly felt whole again, when she hadn’t even known that a part of her had been missing.

  The crowd parted behind Dev, and she saw in the distance Raj watching her, near the door of the ballroom. Their eyes met again, and Winnie’s heart thudded in her chest. He looked brokenhearted, but Winnie couldn’t go to him. Not anymore.

  Before she turned away, Jenny Dickens, in a black sheath dress, stepped up behind Raj and curled a hand over his shoulder. She smirked and led Raj out the ballroom doors.

  “What is it?” Dev said, looking over his shoulder, but Raj and Jenny had already left.

  “Nothing,” she said. “No one. What are we going to do now?”

  Dev leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “Dance?”

  “Yes,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s dance!” She spotted Bridget and Henry dancing with a few others at the edge of the floor. When Winnie waved, they burst through the crowd and surrounded them. Henry pounded Dev on the back, and Bridget hugged Winnie. The music changed, and this time the DJ played the Bollywood “Breakup Song.” Laughing, Winnie and Dev changed up their crazy dance moves.

  Dev was with her every step of the night, as Winnie moshed, bhangra-ed, and joined the conga line. When some of the students cleared off tables, Winnie found herself hoisted on top of one and pushed toward the center of the dance floor.

  She heard people chanting her name over the pounding music and she scanned the crowd, illuminated in brief bursts of light. The only face she was able to see clearly was Dev’s. He grinned up at her.

  As every cell of her body danced in sync, she felt her heart pounding in her chest, and without regret, she gave it to Dev. She closed her eyes and fell into his waiting arms. Her life couldn’t be any more perfect than this.

  18

  KHAMOSHI / SILENCED

  ★★★★★

  No matter how many movies I watch, I always forget that things have to get a LOT worse before they can get better.

  Winnie collapsed at a lunch table on Monday morning and dropped her brown paper bag in front of her. She was exhausted, both from responding to the messages everyone was sending and from the cleanup after the fund-raiser, which had taken all of Sunday.

  She folded her arms on the table and rested her head against them with a groan. She’d forgotten that she had to work tonight, too. When the film festival ended, she’d have a lot more time to focus on things like homework, work, movie reviews, and the new guy in her life. Right now she just had to get through the next seven weeks.

  “Hey, superstar,” Bridget said from next to her. Winnie felt the bench shift and the brush of her best friend’s hand against her shoulder.

  “I’m not a superstar,” she said into the crook of her elbow. “Don’t jinx it. I’m happy. A little stressed, but that’s it.”

  “Dev’s giving you a workout, huh?”

  Winnie’s head shot up, and she glared at Bridget, who wiggled her eyebrows. “I could say the same thing about Henry. You guys disappeared early from the dance. We didn’t get your text messages until Dev and I took the limo home by ourselves.”

  Bridget’s cheeks reddened. “I don’t make out in the backseat of a car for two hours and tell. My AV nerd has some moves.”

  Winnie laughed and hugged her friend. “I’m happy you’re happy.”

  “I’m happy you’re happy,” Bridget replied. “This is the first time you’ve really let loose since Raj and you started going south.”

  “And the funny thing is, I feel better than I did before we broke up. Like even the good times with him, as distant a memory as they may be, don’t compare to how…I don’t know, grounded I am right now.”

  “Well, there are probab
ly other reasons for that.”

  They were still laughing when Jessica came up to the table. Her face was white as a sheet, and instead of the happy glow she’d had when she attended the dance over the weekend, her lips were drawn, and her eyes were bloodshot.

  “Hey,” Winnie said. “What’s up?”

  “Winnie, Mr. Reece needs to see you in his office right now.” She handed her a pass.

  Winnie looked down at the pass and then back at Jessica. Reece only gave passes if the matter was a big deal and if it might make her miss her next class.

  “Girl, what happened?” Bridget said, waving to the seat across from her. “You look like you were forced to watch the Disney Channel for fifteen hours in a row.”

  Jessica looked left and right before she sat down. “The fund-raiser money from yesterday is missing, and Jenny Dickens is telling everyone Dev took it.”

  “What?” Bridget and Winnie said in unison.

  “What do you mean it’s missing?” Winnie asked.

  Jessica tilted her head toward the other side of the room and cupped a hand over her mouth. “You know how Laura was in charge of ticket sales at the door, right? Well, Jenny took over for the rest of the night, and she was supposed to give the money to Mr. Reece. Except she told Mr. Reece after the dance that she gave it to Dev because he said he was in charge of the money.”

  “That’s impossible! Dev was with me,” Winnie said. “We went home after the last song, and came back to school the next morning to clean up.”

  “You guys shouldn’t have allowed Jenny anywhere near the fund-raiser,” Bridget said.

  “It wasn’t me.”

  “I know you guys didn’t do it,” Jessica said. “I saw both of you. But Jenny is saying that Dev took the money and promised to give it to Mr. Reece. Dev is denying it, obviously.”

  “This is such bullshit,” Winnie said, crumpling the pass in her fist.

  Jessica shrugged. “I know. It’s her word against Dev’s.”

  Winnie reached down for her backpack and, after a few tries, managed to unzip the front pocket. When she checked her phone, she saw three texts from Dev, and her stomach twisted with fresh nausea.

  “I’ve gotta go,” she said, and grabbed her things before bolting.

  She ran down the halls and tried to think what Raj and Jenny had done with the money and the proof they’d shown to Reece to make him believe that Dev was the culprit. Despite Jenny’s antics, Winnie had never thought she would end up doing anything really extreme. Like Gabbar Singh, the most notorious villain in Bollywood cinematic history, Jenny was surprising everyone.

  Winnie took a minute to catch her breath before pounding a fist against Reece’s door. She heard the muffled sound of voices inside, and then Reece said, “Come in.”

  She opened the door. Mr. Reece sat behind his desk, his hair mussed and his tweed jacket removed and hanging behind his chair. He didn’t look like the guy she normally sparred with on a regular basis. Raj was sitting in one of the two chairs facing the desk. He had his elbows propped on his spread knees and hung his head. When she walked in, he didn’t even bother looking at her.

  “Ms. Mehta. Close the door, please,” Mr. Reece said. He had called her Winnie at the fund-raiser dance, but now he was back to calling her by her formal name. She obliged and slipped into the empty chair, moving as far away from Raj as she could.

  “What’s going on? Mr. Reece?”

  “Congratulations on a successful fund-raiser for your film festival. However, there appears to be a problem. The fund-raiser proceeds were taken. You’re not in trouble, but we need your help.”

  “Okay…”

  “After the film festival I asked Jenny Dickens about the fund-raiser money. She stated that there had been a last-minute change, authorized by you, and she gave the cash box to Dev Khanna. I spoke to Dev this morning, and he claimed he didn’t have it—”

  “That’s because he never took it,” Winnie rushed in. She leaned forward against the desk. “I never authorized anything. Mr. Reece, he was with me the entire time.”

  Mr. Reece’s voice was slow and soothing. “We completely understand that you believe Dev is innocent. I’ve known Dev for years, and he’s always been an excellent student, but the funds were found in a plastic bag in his locker.”

  “What?”

  Mr. Reece sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, but it’s school protocol to check the student’s personal belongings if there is a concern about theft or activity that violates school policy, and when Dev opened his locker this morning, the bag was in plain sight.”

  “Dev’s locker is broken. He’s been trying to get the school to fix it forever. His whole hall knows about it. Facilities has multiple requests that he logged for repairs. Anyone could have put it there!”

  She looked down at Raj, who was still sitting in the same position as when she had walked in. “Raj, you knew that Jenny was slated for the last shift, too.”

  Even though Raj’s words were mumbled, each one hit her like an ice pick. “Jenny told me she gave the money to Dev, and I believe her. I was with her that night, and she didn’t have it with her.”

  Winnie sank in her seat. “Are you seriously covering for her? How could you?”

  “I told you he was bad news,” Raj said, looking down at his hands.

  “No, Jenny is bad news. She’s threatened me before. You know that. You’re just jealous because Dev—”

  “I’m sorry, Winnie.”

  Holy baby Shah Rukh Khan.

  Instead of screaming like she desperately wanted to, she turned to Mr. Reece and said, “Dev’s locker is broken. That scum-sucking, soulless demon from the bowels of hell must’ve gotten in and planted the evidence. She deserves to go down for theft, bullying, and being a stalker. I’m going to talk to the dean about it and lodge a complaint. You’re such a rules guy, right, Mr. Reece? I bet you’d appreciate that.”

  “Winnie,” Raj said with a sigh. “Leave Jenny alone.”

  Winnie pointed a finger at him and, in her best impression of Shatrughan Sinha, yelled, “Khamosh! Quiet. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten so fast how terrible she was to you after you broke up with her.”

  “Okay, you two,” Mr. Reece said. “Winnie, Dev has been excused for the day, but the suspension is probationary until we get to the bottom of this. Because we understand his locker was broken, we’re not going to expel him yet.”

  “Not ever, Mr. Reece. He didn’t do it!” Winnie’s palms were white with red crescent nail marks from squeezing her fists so tight. She wasn’t going to let Dev get expelled. No way was that happening when she knew Jenny and Raj were behind it.

  “The reason I’m telling you this is because I’ve spoken with Dean Elgeway and he’s promised that he’ll let me lead the investigation quietly. Parents, of course, will have to be contacted. I’m asking you and Raj to be mature and handle this like adults. Unfortunately, because the evidence is clear at this point, Dev won’t be able to show his feature at the film festival unless Jenny or a third party comes forward. If he’s found innocent before the festival, then he can be readmitted to the lineup.”

  Winnie felt the burning in her throat of fresh tears. “Mr. Reece, he needs this film-festival credit for his creative portfolio. He’s counting on this festival to feature his movie, especially with Gurinder Chadha being there. It’s the chance of a lifetime for him. What if his name isn’t cleared in time?”

  Mr. Reece shook his head.

  “It’s a plant, Mr. Reece! You have to see that!” She slammed her hands down at the edge of his desk.

  “Winnie, I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do. That’s my final word on the matter. I have to follow school rules even though I sympathize with your position.”

  He folded his fingers together and leaned forward on his desk. His voice sounded heavy with sadness. “If either of you interferes in the investigation, or if you ignore my rules about including Dev in the festival, you’ll be strippe
d of your duties and film-club titles. There will also be a mandatory suspension.”

  “This is total—”

  “Are. We. Clear?”

  Winnie folded her arms across her chest. “Fine.”

  “So we aren’t in trouble if we cooperate? We’re excused?” Raj asked.

  “For now, unless you did take part in all of this.”

  Raj shook his head.

  “Winnie,” Mr. Reece said. “Are you still willing to chair the festival despite Dev?”

  Great, now she had to choose between her future and her new boyfriend, something that she hadn’t seen coming.

  “I’m still in, but I want to help nail Jenny’s coffin shut. She’s behind this.”

  Raj leaned forward and tried to touch her hand. “Winnie, I—”

  “Don’t,” she said to Raj as she jerked away. “Just don’t.”

  “Okay, enough,” Mr. Reece interjected. “The film-club meeting has been canceled today. I asked Raj to email a notice to the members.”

  Winnie got up and stormed from Mr. Reece’s office, banging the door with as much force as possible. She didn’t care if it pissed him off. She had to find Dev and talk to him. She had to know what he was going to do and how they would get him out of this situation. This was all her fault. Dev wouldn’t have been targeted if she’d dealt with Jenny sooner.

  She jogged down the hallway and out through the main doors at the other end of the school. She had never cut a class in her entire time at Princeton Academy for the Arts and Sciences, but she was going to do it today. She ran toward her car, parked in the student parking lot, and hesitated when she spotted a familiar black sedan at the end of her row. Winnie slowed until she could read the license plate clearly, and then she sped up again. Dev got out of his car and strode toward her. When they were close, Winnie launched herself at him.