Dilli Wali Girlfriend [Completed]

Chapter 27 Rahul Khurana (R. K.)

Chapter 27 Rahul Khurana (R. K.)

[Preet's P. O. V.]

I hid or stayed away from Rahul as much as I could. He did the same.

Around dinner time, my great-grandmother--Bebe--showed up with Papa. She was bibi's mother-in-law. I couldn't help but give her a huge hug. Bebe (great-grandma) had a forgetful memory and was always acting crazy.

"My Preeto is here!" Bebe said happily. I broke the hug and sat down by her side. She always called me "Preeto."

"Who's that?" Samrat asked Sanam. Everyone was sitting on manjas (cots) in our open roof living room.

"Great grandma aka Bebe," replied Sanam.

"Who are they?" Bebe asked me, pointing to Rahul, Radhika di, and Samrat. Lovely introduced them as his friends from America. Bebe got stuck on Rahul's name, however. "Shahrukh Khan!" I tried to tell her to not further say anything, but she pulled out her iPhone (yes, she was crazy about being updated with new technology). "One selfie with Shahrukh, please!"

"Bebe, I don't think Mr. Khurana wants--" Rahul had taken away the right for me to address him by his first name.

"I don't mind," Rahul said. He moved to take a selfie. I shifted away towards Sanam and Mumma.

"His name is Rahul Khurana?" Mumma asked in a whisper. I nodded. A huge smile came on her face. "R. K! From Madhubala." I couldn't believe the coincidence. "He's even good-looking," she teased, nudging me. "Preet, your and his pairin--"

"Slow your horses, woman," I said. If she realized that we were actually a pair in real life two months ago, she would never say this. Right now, Mumma was joking around to see my reaction.

"Aunty, please," Sanam said with a small smile. "Bebe finally found her Shahrukh. Stop trying to make Preet kebab mein haddi (third wheel) in that love story." We laughed.

We spent the rest of the time setting for dinner. Sanam called it a night and went to his house.

As a girl, I was expected to first help serve all the kids their food, then the guests, then my uncles and then eat with the women. So sexist.

I slowly worked. Because they knew I knew Rahul and his group, my aunts and Mumma forced me to serve them their food. Yes, mehmaan bhagvan ka roop hote hain (guests are like gods), but not these guests. God didn't hate anybody (hopefully).

Rahul hated me.

"Do you need anything else?" I asked awkwardly. Radhika di and Sam shook their head. Rahul gave no answer but I saw his empty glass of water.

Sighing, I got the water jug. When I went to pour the water, Rahul moved his glass away. Radhika di, Sam, and I frowned at him.

"I don't recall asking for anything from . . . anyone," Rahul coldly said. His answer was indirectly directed at me. His sister gave me an apologetic look.

With my jaw set, I trudged away.

I hated it when people got me angry during the time I was to eat something. It ruined my appetite. Not all of us were stress eaters like Rahul. I snuck glances at him. How much could he hate me? He still wanted to carry his anger?

In frustration, I ate the dinner.

Adding insult to injury, I heard Rahul ask my mother, "Aunty, can I get some water?"

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"So, that's what happened," Radhika di (sis) said.

I had just finished retelling everything that had happened in New York.