Crossing The i's And Dotting The t's

(VIII) Line Up For Change

Tonight was perhaps the most wild night of my life, which is sad because it happened to be the birthday party of a six year old.

And it was not exactly night either, but more like late evening, the party was over by seven thirty.

My sister was on a sugar rush,  savagely ripping open presants while mercilessly chucking balls of crumpled wrapping paper in my face.

I, like any responsible sister, was trying to get her to sleep.

Finally, after countless failed attempts, the devil was snoring in her new pyjamas, gifted by Kian.

Oh great! Now I couldn't stop picturing his face. He had a nice face, have I mentioned that before?

Allowing myself to continue my day dream for another fifteen minutes, I sighed and sunk down on the sofa. Munching on a leftover pizza slice, I relived certain specific five minutes of that evening.

Alia had played a romantic track from the latest Karan Johar film to spice things up between Kian and I. Unfortunately for her (and fortunately for me), upon the protests of whiny six year olds, her match making plan went down the drain. Giving in, she changed the song to a mildly inappropriate Honey Singh party number.

However, this change in beat did the opposite of what Alia had expected. According to her plan, we were supposed to be slow dancing on a fifty centimeter by hundred centimeter newspaper. But now, we were jumping on it to the beats of some shitty song, trying our best not to touch each other.

We were not very successful though. The rule of paper dance was to fold the paper after every pause. We got through the first, foldless stage without touching.

Although after the first fold, the lengths of our arms were continuously brushing against each other.

After the second fold, we had to move as close as we could without embracing.

Three folds later, Kian gave up and wrapped his arms around my waist. I believe a strange sound had escaped from my mouth at that, but neither of us noticed.

I placed my forearms on his chest, with my fingers curving over his shoulders and thumb resting on his coller bone. All this while, we were moving with the fast beats of some Punjabi song.

I'm pretty sure at one point, our noses also brushed against each other.

However, I staggered back when that happened and we never made it to the fourth fold stage.

I have yet to decide whether or not I am happy about that.

Yawing, I checked the time.

Ten fifteen.

Ma had texted me saying that she and papa would be back by one thirty and that they'd call me instead of ringing the bell. And that I should not wait up for them.

Ha! Easier said than done. I'd rather stay up late than break my sleep to open a door. I wish my father had installed one of those automatic locks.

Deciding that since I was going to stay awake, I might as well practice thermodynamics numericals. It was my wild night after all.

Before I could continue with my exciting plans, my silent phone glowed. Expecting another text from my mother, I reached out for it, only to be greeted by a cute grinning face belonging to the object of my day dreams.