She sipped on her straw, eyes downcast. The pink fluid flowed up, thick, filling her mouth, forcing her to swallow. Big gulps coursed and massaged down her eager gullet. Strawberry milkshake. Her favorite.

 

The menu was before his eyes. Open. He read the list once. Then twice. Then a third time. He had seen the list of momo items before, considering he had been coming to this restaurant with his parents since when he was small. He looked around for the waiter and didn’t see him around. This perturbed him because now he didn’t know what to do with his eyes. He couldn’t stare at her.

 

She fiddled with her cell phone looking at the names on her phone that she had long memorized. She polished her nails on her cheeks and looked at them. They weren’t the shocking red color she had on last month. The edges of these polished nails had more of a pinkish tinge. Her friends told her that the combination of her sharp nails and her pursed lips when she grinned cunningly hinted at her being bitchy. They had advised her on that color saying that it went with the contours of her mouth, since the top lips jutted out. She smiled now at their words spoken last week in a way she hadn’t then.

 

He unzipped his backpack, fiddled inside for his ipod and placed it on the table. He rummaged some more. Loose papers littered the bottom of the bag. He eyed receipts, torn pages from copies—notes that friends had given him for college. He wanted to close the bag quickly, but yet didn’t want to make any sudden movements that may reveal he had something to hide.

 

She glanced down at her lap to look at the kurta suruwal she was wearing, yellow with blue flowers on it. She had gotten the cloth from daddy last birthday when he had gone to Singapore on a conference. She had taken it to Namuna’s on New Road to have it tailored according to a design that she had cut out from Femina magazine. Looking at a reflection of herself on the window of the restuarant, her eyes smiled back at herself—pleased. She was glad she wore her dress today, at this restaurant—especially because she was trying to ignore the boy sitting in front of her, but couldn’t.

 

He fumbled with the dials of his ipod, looking for a particular song. The ipod placed strategically in front of his eyes allowed him to see the blur, that was her hue in yellow with tinges of blue--the silhouette of her kurta suruwal. His heart beat faster as he picked up the glass of water to put up to his lips. He forgot that he generally didn’t drink the water that was placed on these tables. He always asked for bottled water and carefully checked to see that the seal had not been tampered with before pouring it in an empty glass. But today, he realized his mistake only after he put the glass of water down after drinking half of it down.

 

Her eye lashes reached out for the sky. She fluttered them uncaringly. Blaze. It was a measured nonchalance. She carefully picked up her cell phone and dialed a number. “Hello? Who is this? Anita? Yes, this is Prerna. What? No, I am at this restaurant in Thamel. Yeah, it is pretty quiet here. Just a few people here.” She looked at him directly. Held her gaze, drunk in the expression on his face and then glanced away.

“So I thought you were coming here,” she continued. “Yeah, yeah, that is always your excuse anytime I invite you out to do anything. You have stuff to do for college like no one ever does. Please.” He suppressed a smile. She caught the hint of his lips tightened. Encouraged she tried to unhook some more out of him.

“Well, I’m here by myself at Hot Bread if you want to come. I could really use some company. Thamel today is bo-ring.”

 

His heart thumped. He could feel her voice reaching for him, asking him to come talk to her. Was there a more direct signal than what she said? It wasn't even a hint. It felt like a command. He felt like he was on the spot. This one, she was bold. He was used to shy girls, the kind that blushed and looked away when he stared too hard. And here, she had him on pins and needles. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He reached for his inner masculinity to keep himself propped up in composure and found that it wasn’t anywhere where he searched. He tried to hold the ipod steady in his hands. The fact that the waiter was taking so long was really pissing him off. There. That was where he was going to direct himself—to the waiter. He got up to find him, scraping the chair on the floor in the process of getting up. He heard her giggling on the phone. Something in him moved towards her while he dragged his legs away to go find the damned waiter.

 

She watched him walking away. His awkward steps said a lot. She grinned mischievously. Since there was no one on the other line on her cell phone, there was no need to say goodbye. She hung up the phone and placed it in her purse. She looked at the reflection of herself on the window, winked and blew a quick kiss to herself. She knew that she had him where she wanted him.