Edge Of Seventeen

18. Beneath The Confetti

"Zoya, we've been here for a quarter of an hour and I don't understand why you're still hiding behind that menu", I heard Rahul's bemused voice.

I couldn't imagine how on earth, Rahul and I had talked like best old buddies at my home before he went to Delhi and chatted for the last few months on Snapchat like BFF's.

Because right now sitting across the table from Rahul in the radiantly lit room of Golden Spoons, one of the best continental restaurants in entire Mumbai, wearing the prettiest outfit I owned, I felt like a complete freak and hadn't been able to think of single sensible thing to say in the last ten minutes except, "Can I get a tissue?"

It was Tuesday night. Mom had gone to the engagement of a colleague's son.

She had asked me if I wanted to tag along but I had replied that I would prefer to stay back and do my homework, have an early dinner and crash.

Well, I wasn't entirely lying.

I had finished my homework before I left home.

My brain had been perfectly alright when I'd hastily been solving all the complicated sums in Physics two hours ago. But now it seemed like it had decided to jam itself up and not co-operate with me.

Besides, this restaurant didn't have the warm, buddy-buddy vibe of Tashan's.

Golden Spoons was much less crowded, much more sophisticated, seemed to contain only couples and all in all, appeared unfriendly somehow.

That was not to say the place wasn't beautiful. The restuarant played upto it's name. Everything in the room was golden except for the pink confetti that kept falling out occasionally on the occupants of each table from a crystal ball on top of it.

"So what will it be, my dears?"

We looked up to see a waitress who was nothing like Tashan uncle. She was possibly in her late twenties, model slim and wearing a skimpy outfit most of which was mercifully hidden behind her apron. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and she had her iPod ready in her hand to take our order.

I was mildly surprised (and very happy) that Rahul wasn't checking her out. But then again, he was probably too used to this type of thing to gawp when he saw a lot of skin.

Thankful for an opportunity to open my mouth, I started reciting like an idiot from the menu I had just memorised, "One cold cucumber soup, one BBQ potato salad, one cinnamon roll, one plate of chicken wings, and one creamy fettuccine with brussels sprouts and mushrooms noodles. Oh and a coffee".

Rahul was staring at me like he had never seen me before.

Which I would normally have appreciated.

But not now.

"You order yourself something too no?", I asked tentatively.

The waitress however didn't seem at all perturbed by my long order. She turned to look at Rahul expectantly.

"One chicken noodles and a latte", he said very quietly.

As the waitress drifted away from us, I saw through the corner of my eyes that the couple in the table next to us had started kissing.

I hadn't even touched Rahul's hand since we had stepped into the restaurant.

What was wrong with me?

It was this blasted restaurant, I decided. I wanted to be back at the stone bench in the society park.

Our orders arrived in no time and as I started devouring my noodles, I glanced again sideways, this time a bit more obviously. The couple now seemed glued to each other.