The Bangalore summer had a way of making spontaneity feel like a necessity, and Priya was never one to resist its call. Two weeks after Arjun's birthday party, she texted Jaya with an impulsive plan: a weekend road trip to Pondicherry with a small group of friends, including Arjun and, to Jaya's quiet thrill and trepidation, Prashanth. "It'll be fun!" Priya's message promised. "Beach, booze, and bad decisions—come on, Jaya, you're in!" Jaya, still buzzing from her fleeting encounter with Prashanth, couldn't say no, though the thought of seeing him again—and his girlfriend, Tara—sent a flutter of nerves through her.
The group piled into two cars on a Friday morning, the air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and anticipation. Jaya found herself in Arjun's car, a beat-up SUV with a playlist blaring Tamil and Hindi pop. Priya claimed the front seat, leaving Jaya in the back with Prashanth and Tara, who sat close, her hand resting casually on his knee. Jaya focused on the window, watching Bangalore's concrete sprawl give way to the open road, palm trees, and glimpses of the Bay of Bengal. But her awareness of Prashanth was inescapable—his low chuckle at Arjun's terrible puns, the faint cedar scent of his cologne, the way his arm brushed hers when the car hit a bump.
"You okay back there, Jaya?" Prashanth asked, his voice warm, pulling her from her thoughts. His eyes met hers, a spark of that same curiosity from the party, and she felt her cheeks warm.
"Yeah, just enjoying the view," she said, her smile easy despite the flutter in her chest. "Never been to Pondicherry before."
"It's magic," he said, leaning back, his shoulder closer to hers now. "The sea, the French Quarter, the vibe—it's like stepping into a different world. You'll love it."
Tara glanced over, her smile tight. "It's nice, but crowded," she said, her hand tightening on Prashanth's knee. "You'll see."
Jaya nodded, keeping her tone light. "Crowded's fine. I'm used to Bangalore traffic." She caught Prashanth's grin in her peripheral vision, and her heart did a little flip. Stop it, Jaya. He's taken. She turned back to the window, focusing on the rolling fields, but the warmth of his presence lingered.
The drive was a three-hour blur of music, laughter, and Priya's endless stories. They stopped at a roadside dhaba for lunch, where Jaya savored spicy masala dosas and stole glances at Prashanth as he teased Arjun about his navigation skills. He caught her looking once, his smile softening, and she quickly busied herself with her chai, her pulse racing. Tara, engrossed in her phone, seemed oblivious, but Jaya felt the weight of her unspoken crush, a secret she buried beneath her easy chatter.
Pondicherry greeted them with its coastal charm—cobblestone streets, pastel-colored buildings, and the salty tang of the sea. They checked into a quirky guesthouse in the French Quarter, its courtyard draped with bougainvillea. The group spent the afternoon wandering, exploring Auroville's golden dome and the bustling promenade along the beach. Jaya felt the city's magic, its blend of serenity and vibrancy, and Prashanth's presence only amplified it. He walked beside her at times, pointing out hidden cafes or sharing snippets about Pondicherry's history, his enthusiasm infectious.
"You've got a storyteller's heart," she said, grinning as they paused by a street artist's stall. "Bet your scripts are full of this kind of charm."
He laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Maybe. But it's easier to tell stories when you've got a good listener." His gaze held hers a moment too long, and she felt that spark again, sharp and electric.
Tara called him over to look at a trinket, and Jaya turned away, her heart thudding. He's just being friendly, she told herself, joining Priya to snap photos of the sea. But the memory of his look stayed with her, a quiet ember she couldn't quite extinguish.
That evening, the group headed to a beachside pub, its open-air deck strung with lanterns, the waves crashing just beyond. The music was a mix of retro Bollywood and electronic beats, and the air buzzed with laughter and the clink of glasses. Jaya, in a flowy white top and jeans, sipped a rum and coke, the alcohol loosening her nerves. Prashanth, in a linen shirt that hugged his frame, ordered a whiskey, his ease drawing her gaze despite her efforts to focus on Priya's animated story about a client meltdown.
As the night deepened, the DJ cranked up a lively Kolaveri Di remix, and Priya dragged everyone to the dance floor. Jaya laughed, letting the music pull her in, her body swaying to the beat. Prashanth joined the group, his moves relaxed but confident, and their eyes met as they danced, a playful energy sparking between them. Tara was nearby, dancing with Arjun, but her attention drifted, leaving Prashanth and Jaya in a shared orbit.
He leaned closer, his voice low over the music. "You're a natural out here, Jaya. Didn't peg you for a dancer."
She grinned, emboldened by the rum and the rhythm. "There's a lot you don't know about me," she teased, spinning away, her hair catching the lantern light.
He caught her wrist gently, pulling her back into the dance, his touch sending a shiver through her. "Then I'll have to keep up," he said, his smile a mix of mischief and warmth. They moved together, not too close but close enough for her to feel the heat of him, the rhythm of his steps syncing with hers. The alcohol made her bold, her laughter freer, and for a moment, it was just them—the music, the sea, the electric pull between them.
Tara reappeared, her arm looping through Prashanth's, her smile bright but proprietary. "Having fun?" she asked, her eyes flicking to Jaya.
"Loads," Jaya said, her voice bright to mask the pang in her chest. She stepped back, joining Priya, who was now twirling Arjun dramatically. Prashanth's gaze lingered on her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, but she turned away, focusing on the music, the crowd, the night.
Later, as they spilled out onto the promenade, the group tipsy and giggling, Jaya and Prashanth ended up walking side by side, the sea a dark shimmer under the moonlight. The others were ahead, Priya's laughter echoing, leaving them in a pocket of quiet. Jaya's head buzzed from the rum, her inhibitions softened, but she kept her tone natural, her crush buried deep.
"So, Pondicherry's living up to the hype?" Prashanth asked, his hands in his pockets, his shoulder brushing hers as they walked.
"More than," she said, smiling up at him. "The sea, the vibe—it's like you said, a different world. Thanks for the history lessons today."
He chuckled, his eyes warm. "Anytime. You make it fun to share them."
Her heart fluttered, but she caught sight of Tara glancing back, and the reality of his relationship anchored her. "You and Tara seem to love it here too," she said, keeping her voice light. "Bet you've got stories from other trips."
He nodded, his smile faltering slightly. "Yeah, we've been here a few times. It's... special." There was a pause, a hint of something unspoken, but he recovered, his tone easy again. "What about you? Got any favorite getaway spots?"
She laughed, grateful for the shift. "Not yet. Bangalore's been my adventure so far. But this? This might be my new favorite."
They walked on, the conversation flowing naturally—movies, music, the quirks of their jobs. Jaya felt the pull of him, the way his laughter warmed her, the way his eyes lingered when he thought she wasn't looking. But she kept her feelings tucked away, her smile bright, her words friendly, even as her heart whispered what her lips couldn't say.
As they reached the guesthouse, the group lingered in the courtyard, the night alive with stars and the sea's soft song. Prashanth caught her eye one last time, his smile soft, almost wistful, before Tara pulled him away. Jaya turned to Priya, laughing at some silly joke, but the memory of their dance, the brush of his hand, the warmth of his gaze, stayed with her, a spark that refused to fade under the Pondicherry moonlight.
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