Half Girlfriend

A waiter arrived with a tray of drinks. Rohan took a beer, Riya
picked up a glass of wine and Mr Somani helped himself to a whisky. I
didn’t know what to take so I waved a no.
‘Nice party, Somani uncle,’ Rohan said.
Mr Somani lifted his glass for a toast. Mrs Somani made an eye
movement to indicate that some important guests had just arrived—-
someone incredibly rich or powerful, or both. Mr and Mrs Somani
excused themselves and sidled off.
Riya smiled at me. I smiled back at her, trying my best to fit in.
‘So you guys do college together, innit?’ Rohan said. His British
accent made it hard for me to understand him.
‘Yes, different course. Same college.’ Riya said.
Rohan was an inch shorter than Riya and five inches shorter than
me. However, his age and confidence made us seem like kids
answering his questions.
‘Basketball, that is wicked,’ Rohan said.
‘Wicked? Why wicked?’ I said.
He laughed, as if he didn’t mean it in a bad way. Even Riya smiled.
'What?’
‘Nothing. It’s such a British English thing,’ Riya said.
I guess I didn’t understand British or English things.
‘How do you like India?' I said, crying to make conversation.
‘Grew up here, dude. I left ten years ago,' he said.
I wondered if ten years could completely change a person’s accent.
‘Stephen's, eh? Top college. You must be pretty damn smart,’
Rohan said to me.
‘I entered through the sports quota,’ I said,
Riya’s eyes shuttled between both of us. She watched our man-to-
man equation. He was six years older, insanely rich and far more
accomplished. He also had a fancy accent, gelled hair and lived in
London. I was nothing compared to him. Yet, there was something
jerk-like about Rohan Chandak. Or maybe it was just my imagination.
At least I'm taller, I told myself to feel better.