One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

legs.
Oh, so this is how guys check out girls? Thank God it is dark. I need to book a waxing
appointment soon.
‘Where are you staying?’ Debu said.
‘Right across, at the Benjamin Hotel. Only for training, though. Will look for an apartment
soon.’
He lit up a cigarette. He offered me one. I declined.
‘Can I say something?’ he said.
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘That is a nice dress you are wearing,’ he said.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I said. The mix of compliments and wine made me giddy.
‘But if you want me to cut the price tag, I can. Sixty-nine ninety-five. Good buy,’ he said. He
pointed to the tag, still attached to the back of my dress.
My face colour changed to match that of the red wine. I had never been so embarrassed in my
life.
‘Or I can let it be if you want to return the dress. The return policy is great in the USA,’ Debu
said.
I fumbled to find the price label on my back. He laughed, picked up a cutlery knife from the
table and cut the tag.
‘What’s up, guys?’ Avinash asked as he noticed Debu bent over my back.
‘Nothing. I liked the dress. Just wanted to check the brand,’ Debu said.
‘You advertising types, always curious,’ Avinash said.
Post-drinks the group decided to go to Ray’s, a famous place for pizzas.
‘What’s your favourite cuisine?’ Debu asked me as he ate his pizza slice.
I had no favourite cuisine. I couldn’t say Indian. It sounded too unfashionable.
‘Chinese,’ I blurted out.
‘I know a great Chinese place. Would you like to go sometime?’
Did he just ask me out? Nobody has ever asked me out. Thank you, Banana Republic. Oh,
maybe he is just being helpful. He is saying he will tell me of a Chinese place I can go to
sometime, alone. Is that what he means?
He looked at me, waiting for an answer. Say something, Radhika.
‘Huh? Yeah, why not? You can tell me the address, or if they deliver.. .’
‘I meant with me.’
‘Oh,’ I said and became quiet. Say something else, you stupid girl.
‘Yeah. Just you and me,’ Debu said.
My heart began to beat fast. Is this what people call a date? Can I ask him to clarify?
‘Okay,’ I said, letting out a huge breath, ‘we can.’
‘Next Friday?’ he said. Thoughts darted across my head. Isn’t he too forward? Wait, he is just
fixing a time. Else how will it ever happen? Will it look too cheap and desperate if I say yes? Will
he think I am a slut? Why is there no user manual for how girls should live on this planet?
‘Friday?’ I said and shut up, like a bimbette. He must be wondering how Goldman ever hired
me.
‘Yeah. Weekend. No office next day,’ he said, his voice uncomfortable. He didn’t know if I
was trying to blow him off or just being the usual idiot that I am.
‘Okay,’ I said. The effort it took me to say that okay felt like lifting seven heavy suitcases.