TejRan : A Twist of Fate

Part 6 - Seal Deal

Karan

Does she live in a hostel?

A fucking hostel?

What the hell am I doing? I rub my hand over my forehead, absolutely humiliated as I sit in my Range Rover. Staring at the hostel entrance, I wonder if I'll be able to muster enough courage to walk up to those doors and go in.

I spent the morning figuring out where to get a chicken momos and spicy sauce combo. When I found a place, I ordered five different momos because I was unsure what she would want.

The boys asked me how I was this morning. I told them I was great, that I didn't think Anusha would be a problem, and not to worry about me. I think they bought it.

No way in hell was I going to tell them about Teju and what happened last night. Or the fact I'm sitting in a hostel parking lot with a bagful of momos, looking to make a college girl my pretend girlfriend.

I slip my glasses on and hood over my head then take my bag of food in one hand and head toward the entrance of her hostel. I spot the elevators and press the button for the third floor. When the doors close, a nervous energy bounces in me as I ride to Teju's floor.

Palms sweating, I knock on her door and stand there, waiting for her to open up. It takes a few seconds, but when she does, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep in the inappropriate sound that wants to escape. Standing in the doorway, wearing a crop top is Teju her shorts barely reaching her mid-thighs, her toned stomach is on full display and she looks so comfortably hot sporting a bare face with no makeup that it's almost painful.

"Between the way you're dressed, your vibe is screaming pervert looking for his next prey"

And then there's that snappy wit of hers. How could I possibly forget? "Just let me in," I say, irritated.

She pushes the door open even more and lets me into a small suite. With a kitchen on the right of the wall, a bathroom on the left, the room parts open into a space just big enough for a desk, bed, and dresser. So . . . no roommates. Thank fuck.

The bag of momos is taken from my hand and set on the counter. "Make yourself comfortable, and when I say that, I mean get rid of the hood, glasses. You look ridiculous."

"I didn't want anyone to recognize me."

"You are giving your stardom too much credit. I don't even think that many people like TV."

I nearly choke on my own saliva. Is she kidding? We're the most successful show on TV right now, and we live in Mumbai. TV is in the blood of every Mumbaikar.

"You realize you live in Mumbai, right?"

She just shrugs her shoulders. "Never noticed, I guess. Oh, is this chicken schezwan? Yes, please."

She slips the momos on a plate and turns toward me to hand it over when she notices I haven't disrobed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

She sets the momos down on her bed, then steps up to me and tears my hood in one fell swoop. Then she removes my glasses.

"There, now take a seat and eat."

"Where?" I ask as I pat down my hair.

"There's no dining table."

"Dining table. Devaa, could you be any more of a snob? It's a hostel room. There's my bed and my desk chair. Take your pick. Unless you love the floor, those are your choices."

I think I'm still too hungover for this conversation. "I'll take the desk chair." There is no way I'm getting on that bed.

"Then I'll take my bed." She hops up and then brings her plate close to her. She lifts the momo and takes a large bite before leaning back and moaning. Jesus, that sound. It has the blood in my body pumping harder.