Half Girlfriend

emanates from nature. It is stuff that sounds profound when you hear
it but is total bullshit when you look back and think about it.
Riya’s lean frame, athletic body and stunning looks meant most
men had their eyes on her. Of course, another girl with a massive bust
had her own set of fans.
As the commentator spoke his lines in a sexy voice, I rehearsed
mine in my head.
‘Riya, I think people deserve a second chance.’
Riya did cartwheels on stage with incredible grace. The crowd
burst into applause as she did a perfect cartwheel.
Inside my chest, my heart did the same.
‘Riya, not a day—not a day—passes when I don’t think of you,’ I
said to myself. I deleted it from my mental shortlist. It sounded too
keen. Girls are difficult. It is all about finding the right balance. You
can neither be too pushy, nor come across as too cool to care. I suck at
this fine balance.
In the last act, Riya took a handheld mic and sang the two closing
lines about nature and how we need to protect it. Her clear and tuneful
voice earned a round of spontaneous applause.
The show ended. The girls came forward to take a bow. The crowd
cheered. I slipped out and then sprinted to the classroom converted
into a green room. Finger-combing my hair, I knocked on the door.
A female student peeked out.
‘What?’
‘I need to talk to someone.’
‘Sorry, only girls allowed inside.’
‘Is Riya Somani there?’
‘She is changing,Wait.’
I had little choice. I sat on a ledge opposite the classroom. I waited
for thirty minutes. A group of girls came out, giggling for no particular
reason. Riya didn’t.
Forty-five minutes later, dressed in black jeans with silver buttons
and a tight black top, Riya stepped out. In a deliberate act, she took