AR: Ricochet [Thread #2: Page 1/150] - Page 8

Chapter 2: Aubade

Aubade. n. A poem or piece of music signaling a new dawn or early morning.

Long Island, New York City, Present

She can't think of anything but that contract waiting for her on Monday. This was it. The CODA, the final movement to everything she's worked for, so far. All those caffeine infused, bleary, nights full of badass studying had paid off and she's officially working with one of the biggest firms in New York. Riddhima - 1, fcuked up childhood - 0.

It's not even lunch time yet and she wonders what to do, because she hardly ever has so much time free and it's a little mind boggling if she's honest. She thinks she could; maybe clean up the mess that is currently, her room but then decides against it; going in favor of scouring in the attic for interesting stuff. Or maybe she'd paint today. It's been ages and she needs to try out those tempera colors she bought last month.

She goes with the painting. It's something she took up way back in the orphanage and she'd thought that painting being therapeutic was a load of crap (why would so many artists commit suicide, otherwise?) but apparently it's true and she's seen it firsthand now. So she takes out her easel, canvas, palette, paints, old clothes and goes up to her room to sit near the window seat. The next fifteen minutes are spent in putting newspaper all around her because: "No, Ridzy, I won't have you dropping paint all over my carpet." "Yes Muski."

Finally, finally she sits down to paint and she thinks it's going to be perfect because it's a beautiful summer day, she's ecstatically happy, she's got music on and there's really not much that could go wrong.

She's wrong.

She can't think of anything to paint.

Zero.

Zilch.

Nada.

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John M. Olin Library, Cornell University, Ithaca, six years ago

She's been looking for that one paper by that douchebag they were supposed to write an essay on, for hours. It's not like her, but she really, really, really feels like throwing a bitch fit because, submission's next week and she has a shitload of studying to do anyway.

"Fcuk."

She hears the shuffle of shoes before she sees his face.

"Classy, Gupta."

She flips him off.

"You wound me." He snickers and it's really amazing how quickly someone can snap and lose their cool because until then she was fine. Kind of.

She shoots him what she hopes is a passable I'm-angry-and-you're-in-deep-shit look, but judging from the softening of his eyes, it probably comes off as tired and wary.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't find the goddamn paper, Ishaan. I've been looking for hours. And I'm tired, I didn't sleep much yesterday, and I've got a night shift today as well, and don't give me that look, we're not having an argument about my choice of job, yeah? It pays well."

"It's a bar."

"It's the best in town, alright? And it's not one of those sleazy places where people stare at your ass, it's actually decent. And Tom lets me do my studying when business is down. Its win-win really."

"Fine. Whatever."

She sighs and it drips with fatigue. She hugs him tentatively, until his body loosens up and she knows he's let the issue go. For now.

"I'm fine Ishaan, you need to stop worrying about me, okay? It's a perfectly nice place and I'm a black belt, so it's not like I can't handle anything."

"You wanna go out for ice-cream or something?"

"Can't. Still have to find the paper, man."

"The paper's extra credit, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then let it be, Riddhima. You've got enough credits, you know that. And I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to push yourself and gather credits at breakneck speed to get out of college as early as possible because you don't want Muskaan's parents paying more than they have to. Don't look at me like that, did you think I wouldn't notice? You're here on a scholarship, Riddhima. That's more than what half the people have. So stop pushing yourself so much. And don't cheapen what Muskaan's parents are doing for you, yeah? They think of you as their own daughter, it's not an obligation."

She's momentarily shocked and of course she's not moved and no there are no butterflies in her stomach at his concern (except there are).

"Whoa, Ishaan. Did you get a Ph.D in Psychology while I wasn't looking?"

"I'm serious, Riddhima."

"Fine. I agree."

"So. Ice-cream?"

She decides to be bold for once. It's been weeks since she's been crushing on him and it kind of felt like he liked her as more than a friend too, and Muskaan kept telling her she needed to "go out with someone already" so maybe it was a good idea?

"Is it a date?"

His eyes widen and she can see his surprise and all she can think of is; nice job Riddhima, you just jeopardized your friendship with him, now he'll never want to speak to you again and-

"If you want it to be."

Wait, what?

And the butterflies are back in full force.

Play it cool, Gupta.

"Sure."

And then he gives her that stupid grin which makes it really hard for her to not smile like an idiot, so she does.

They go to the ice-cream parlor nearby and she sits on one of the benches feeling ecstatic. But then her phone buzzes and she thinks Muskaan followed by She couldn't possibly know this quick.

Why do I have to find out from someone else that you're out on a date? - M

I said yes to Ishaan, 10 minutes ago, how the fcuk do you know already? - R

Janet told me. She heard him ask you out (or the other way round actually, way to go kameeni!) so yeah.- M

Who the hell is Janet? -R

You know Priya? - M

Yep. - R

Yeah so Janet is Priya's sister Arohi's, boyfriend's, cousin brother's girlfriend. - M

Holy shit Muskaan how the hell do you even know these people :O - R

Socializing, bb. - M

Also, I'm telling Rahul. - M

No you're not! I'll tell him when I get back okay? If you tell him now he'll spend the next two hours worrying about me. - R

Fine :P - M

Okay, bye. - R

One question. Are you guys going steady now? - M

Shut up, Muskaan. - R

She doesn't tell him it's her first date. Ever. And she doesn't regret that, believe it or not, she actually has fun. She's known him a few months before this dating thing and so it isn't awkward. Okay that's a lie, it's awkward as fcuk because no one knows what to say and they kind of just sit there until Riddhima gets annoyed (because hello she gave up extra credit for this) and says, "Jesus, Ishaan. TALK." And they laugh and just like that the tension evaporates and it's just like old times except he absentmindedly plays with her fingers and that's new. And it makes her flustered. But she likes it, she likes it a lot.

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Long Island, New York City, Present

She ends up painting the sky. It's an electric mix of all possible blues and there's a range of hills near the bottom of the canvas but it's the sky that's in focus and she likes the way it comes out, with what blue being her favorite. She decides to get the painting framed and hung up on her wall because it's a better reminder of her time with Ishaan than that photo of them showing the finger to the camera (and she can almost hear his, "Classy, Gupta.") because that's what Ishaan was, to her. The sky. He was the first person she'd befriended (and later professed her love to, but that's a thing of the past) after bring thrust under a new sky, a new world and he was the sun on a cloudy day, her safe haven, someone she counts on no questions asked; someone who was family outside of family, and its different with him than with Rahul and Muskaan. With them she doesn't even have to talk. She's known them both for almost two decades and they're her foundation, her solid rock, something she can lean on all the time. With Ishaan she's still discovering new things, exploring new grounds and there isn't one day when she thanks her stars that they were able to be friends after being in a relationship. It took a while but they got there in the end.

In some ways she's as close to him as she is with Rahul and Muskaan because he knows everything that there is to know and there is a lot. But he's stuck by her through it all and sometimes she wonders if they should've held on for longer to what they had because he'd fit right in with her world. But it's not really a desire of hers, it's just an afterthought that plagues her at the oddest times and she blames it to the fact that sometimes it gets to her to see her friends so in love.

Hey, this is my number. Save it, we'll need to keep in touch constantly. This is Armaan, btw. - A

Saved, boss. - R

Please don't call me that. - A

Sorry.

...

Boss. LOL. - R

Hilarious. - A

I aim to please. - R

Don't make me laugh, I'm in a meeting with a bunch of sixty - year olds. - A

I shall leave you to it, then. Go work, Armaan. - R

Traitor. - A

Her laugh is loud in the room and she feels light hearted in a way that's familiar, but new and it really is an excellent day, she might've even made a new friend (maybe). Or maybe it's not so much light-hearted as hungry because it's been hours since she's been painting and its way, way, way past lunch.

Opening the chilled beer, she grabs a slice of pizza and settles down to watch re-runs of How I Met Your Mother. Her last thought before she shuts her brain off, is this is the life.

It's actually kind of worrying how happy she's feeling today, maybe Muskaan pranked her and spiked her breakfast with something. It's happened before. Right now though, she could care less.

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She's woken up by Muskaan and she feels disoriented; she's been sleeping for a good two-ish hours.

"Ugh, what time is it, you guys?"

"A little after eight, Ridzy."

"Sorry Riddhi, too much traffic." Rahul adds and she waves her hand in an it's-all-good motion.

A sudden rush of vertigo takes her by surprise when she tries to get up and they're at her sides in seconds. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, guys. Really."

"Did you paint today?"

"How'd you know?"

"You've got a smudge on your cheek."

"Yeah, I kinda need to shower and sleep and eat. Not in that order."

Out of the corner of her eyes she sees Rahul smile fondly at her and she smiles to herself. "Are we going out tonight? I did say, dinner was on me."

"I'm too tired, man. That seminar was draining. Can we make it lunch, tomorrow?"

She nods at Muskaan, grateful. "Works for me."

She agrees to shower and then have dinner with them. She's still full from the pizza earlier so she sticks to having a salad. The time flies by, they discuss her interview ("Yes, Muskaan, Armaan is hot and NO, I don't have pictures.") Muskaan's seminar and she's about to head upstairs when Muskaan stops her.

"Can I talk to you for a bit, Ridzy?"

"Since when do you ask? Talk. What's up?"

"I want to have kids."

"What? Muskaan, what the hell, man. You can't spring that on me just like that! So, why do you have to ask me? Do you need me to move out?"

"What? No. Shut up Ridzy, and listen before you jump to conclusions! Idiot. I mean, I want to have kids, but I haven't told Rahul yet. I don't know how to broach the subject."

"Muski, he's always wanted a family, you know that. Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know Ridzy. I know he's always wanted a family, but what if he wants one just to prove to himself that all families aren't dysfunctional? What if he isn't really ready for one, you know?"

"Muskaan. That's a horrible thing to say, why in the world would you think it?!"

She gathers that some of her defensiveness for Rahul slipped through the cracks because Muskaan looks apologetic.

"I'm sorry Ridzy, but what am I supposed to think? I have so many questions, regarding his...past. And he never talks about it to me. He means well, I know he does, because he feels I shouldn't see him weak, but that's just ridiculous, you don't think? So I have to resort to asking you, okay? Because you're the one he talks to about all that stuff, not me. And I don't have a problem with that, I really don't, you're more than family to us, but I wish he'd tell me too. Everytime I talk about something remotely related to that I feel like I'm trading on glass and its getting exhausting, Ridzy. I don't know how to talk to him, about this."

Her chest constricts painfully, she hadn't known it was so bad. She feels guilty, sort of, because maybe she should've known how bad Muskaan was feeling, how torn up she was over this.

"I am so sorry, Muski. You wait here. I'm going to get that douchebag to come down and give him a piece of my mind. Fcuking idiot."

She's determined in her stride as she heads upstairs but she finds him halfway there, his face tense and his body stiff.

"You heard us." It's not a question; it's there in his very posture.

"Yeah."

"Care to explain?"

He sighs, long and tired. "I don't know, why. I just, I don't know, Riddhi."

"Go talk to her, Rahul. It's not fair to either of you, okay? And I don't care if you start bawling in front of her, you will tell her everything. Or else."

He gives a watery chuckle and she smiles at him. Kissing him on the cheek, she ushers him towards the kitchen while she heads towards her room. The strange "high" she'd been on since morning has worn off now (Muskaan swore she hadn't spiked her breakfast with anything) and she feels strangely drained. She picks up her half-read copy of American Gods and snuggles under the thin sheet, her eyelids drooping. Five pages and three words later, she's asleep; her dreams infused with Shadow, Wednesday, impossibly blue eyes, and the sky.

She doesn't wake up when Rahul drops a kiss on her forehead.

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