Radha & Jai's Recipe for Romance Page 9

  “But they win with ballet or jazz or contemporary as the main form of dance, with bhangra, raas, and, okay, I admit, some steps from Bollywood movies. I am one of the best kathak dancers in the world right now…well, I used to be. I can help you with a classical-focused routine. It’ll be hard if not everyone has a classical-dance background, but in the end we’ll deliver a performance no one has seen before.”

  She was glowing while she talked, Jai realized. Truly glowing. He didn’t want to pull her from her mood, but man, he wished he could take away those moments of sadness from her so she was like this all the time when she talked about dance.

  “So, what story are we going to tell with this piece?” Jai asked.

  “You couldn’t tell?”

  He shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Radha rested a hand on his knee. “We’re doing an Indian wedding.”

  “Wh-what?”

  Radha laughed. “Holy cow, you look like I just told you we’re getting married. Relax. I’m talking about telling a wedding story.”

  “How?”

  “In pieces,” she said. “Choreography is, surprisingly, like building a recipe. There are the ingredients, which are the dancers; the instructions, which are the song and the concept; and the steps, which is where I come in. We’re building a recipe together that is going to tell the story of a wedding in a messy, fun family. We’ll start by dramatizing a mehndi and a sangeet.”

  “Okay,” he said. His brain began working in overdrive as he tried to think the concept through. “The mehndi is when the bride and family gets mehndi done, and the sangeet is the Indian karaoke party night. Both events usually have a lot of singing and dancing. Now that I think about it, a wedding is a pretty perfect setup.”

  “Exactly. There are a bunch of Punjabi songs—I couldn’t help myself. It’s in the blood, I guess. We can also add garba in there if we want to make it a wedding between a Punjabi and a Gujarati.”

  Jai grinned. “As a bicultural punjabi gujrati desi whose parents had a loving marriage, I think that sounds amazing. After the sangeet is the wedding day, right?”

  “Right. We’ll even tell the story of the groom’s procession—the baraat is where we can introduce bhangra. Following that is the wedding ceremony, with hip-hop and funk. For that scene I envision that you each do something different, and then you freeze. One person moves, then another, and then you’re all in sync again.”

  Jai could picture it in his head, and he knew that she was onto a brilliant idea. He’d never seen something like that before, and he doubted anyone at the showcase would’ve seen a performance with so many moving parts either. “The climax—it’s the wedding reception, right?”

  “Exactly. You all do the same choreo. That’ll make the biggest impact. The whole routine will be ten minutes with multiple moods and tones. We’ll record a talk track to intro the dance, and close it with a bang. If we can nail this—”

  “Then we’re going to win.” He opened his arms, and when Radha flushed and leaned forward, he embraced her. She smelled like vanilla, and her hair had the faint scent of kiwi.

  The employees-only door creaked behind them, and Jai and Radha jerked apart.

  Neil gaped and shot him a questioning look. What is this?

  “Neil, meet Radha. She’s going to be helping Bollywood Beats with the choreography.”

  “Hi,” Radha said.

  “Hi.” Neil smiled at her in the disarming way he used with anyone who walked into the store. “It’s nice to meet you. If I’d known that we had company, I would’ve said hello sooner.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you,” Jai said.

  Neil leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m sorry that you have to work with my brother. Mr. Cranky Pants here knows that I’m the best brother.”

  “Jai’s not so bad himself,” Radha said as she looked over at Jai.

  “Yeah, I bet,” Neil said. “You know, I think most of his team has come through the store, and my older brother, my mom, and I have seen all of Jai’s performances, but you don’t look familiar.”

  “That’s because I’m new. To New Jersey, the school, the team, everything.”

  Neil scanned the store and then did a double take when he saw the Audi outside. “Wait, is that your car?”

  “That’s my mom’s car,” Radha said. “I just use it.”

  “That’s great, that’s great.” Jai watched his brother’s goofy grin slip from his face. “Hey, Jai, I need your help for a second. Do you mind?”

  “Um, sure. Radha, can you give me a minute?”

  “Yeah. Take your time.”

  Jai followed his brother into the narrow back room between metal shelves stacked high with supplies.

  “Dude!” Neil said. He gestured toward the exit door. “What are you doing?”

  Jai shook his head. Sometimes he felt like he needed a translator to talk to his brothers. “Didn’t I just tell you?”

  Neil gripped Jai’s shoulders and shook. “You are a great kid. You’re smart, and kind, and always giving more of yourself than you should. That is why, as your older brother, I’m going to ask you a couple questions. First. Is the pretty rich girl out there related to someone at Columbia University?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so? Why does it—”

  “Second question. Is the pretty girl out there with the Audi connected to some scholarship fund to get you money?”

  “No. What is going on Neil?”

  “Are you going to benefit in any way from her connections or money?”

  Jai felt as if his brother had just shoved him. “What? It’s not like that. I don’t care about her money. She’s helping me with the routine for Bollywood Beats, and hopefully we’ll be able to save face at the competition this year.”

  “And you’re sure that’s what she’s going to help you with in the end? Win your showcase, and maybe cash in that prize at regionals?”

  Jai looked at the door, and then at his brother. “Why do you care?”

  “Because you dated a girl who was just like that and didn’t make you happy!” Neil whisper-yelled. This time when he gestured, he knocked a box of tissues off a shelf. “Have you forgotten your ex, Tara with the good hair?”

  “She’s nothing like Tara. And did you seriously just make a Beyoncé reference?”

  Neil pinched the bridge of his nose, which was confusing since Jai was the one who felt like he was frustrated.

  “That girl? She’s probably nice, but if she loses the Winter Showcase, I bet you she’ll be fine. Even if she says she needs some cash like you do, it’s not the same. Her parents will give her the money that she wants. But you? If you lose, then yeah. You’ll be working here. And maybe we can get you to take classes part-time, and maybe you’ll get to medical school, but we all know that it’s going to be a big fat maybe.”

  “You’re telling me that if I mess with Radha, I’m not going to focus on winning and I’ll screw myself over.”

  “Yes!” Neil said. He immediately shushed himself and then cuffed Jai on the neck. “Focus on the prize. Focus on the game. I know you’ve always done that, but you’re in the fourth quarter. I remember how sad you were after you and Tara broke up for the final time. Even though you’re over it now, and both of you are friends, I don’t want my baby brother to lose sight of his dreams, especially since people like us have so few chances to chase them.”

  “My dreams are to help you and Gopal and Dad build the legacy Dad started.”

  “No, Jai,” Neil said. “When Dad decided to buy this store, and Gopal and I were in college for business, it was our collective dream. That was something we wanted to do. You were just a kid. And when you started to think for yourself, Columbia became your dream. Don’t put more roadblocks in your way than you already have to get to your dreams. I’m going to say it one more time. Tara.�
�

  “Dude, Tara wasn’t a roadblock.”

  “Uh, let’s see. After you guys broke up, you were so distracted because you thought you were the problem that you almost missed your SATs.”

  “That doesn’t mean Tara was the roadblock. She’s a cool person, Neil. We just didn’t work out.”

  Neil tapped his head. “But your relationship took your eye away from your one and only shot. Our family doesn’t get second chances, Jai. Remember that.”

  Jai winced. The more he thought about it, the more Neil had a point. Radha could technically leave him in the dust, especially if her mother sent her back to Chicago. Winnie was surprisingly good at judging a person’s character, Bollywood obsessions aside, and she had vouched for Radha as someone Jai could trust. But if he had feelings for the new girl…well, things could get super complicated.

  Then there was the future. Even if something were to happen between the two of them, what future would they have after school? Radha would go off somewhere while Jai would be working the night shift with Gopal. They were from two completely different worlds. She was an Audi-driving, pink-headphones-wearing, McMansion-living dance princess, while he was the son and brother of convenience-store owners living one town over from Princeton.

  “Shit.”

  Neil shook his head. “Now you’re getting it. Protect yourself, Brother. That’s all I’m saying. And I’m telling you all this so I can protect you.”

  Jai nodded. “Thanks, bhai. I can always count on you to screw the mood.”

  “I’m here to help, kid.”

  When Jai returned to his seat next to Radha, she smiled at him. “Everything okay?”

  He shifted his chair away and hated himself for the way she looked at him with confusion. “Yeah,” he said as cheerfully as he could. “Yeah, it’s fine. Uh, okay, how about we see what we need in terms of choreo for an intro, and then set up the regular practices with the team? We’re going to have to bring the whole group together in, like, a week at the latest. Maybe we can start with Shakti and Hari on Monday since you’ve already danced with them, and we’ll see how they feel first.”

  Her brows furrowed, and Jai felt like a tool. She pointed to her laptop screen.

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  It wasn’t, he thought. But, as with most things in his life, he didn’t know if he had a choice.

  Chapter Ten

  Radha

  Translation of Bimalpreet Chopra’s Recipe Book

  Suji Ka Halwa

  New beginnings should always start with something sweet. A palmful of suji ka halwa and a prayer to Lord Ganesha will bless you with success.

  Mix atta and ghee over medium heat. Stir until toasted to a golden brown.

  Reduce flame to low and add boiled water. Pour in slowly to avoid lumps.

  Increase heat to medium and stir until water is absorbed. Add sugar and cardamom until dissolved. Top with raisins and cashews.

  RADHA: So my dad taught me how to make suji ka halwa yesterday in v-chat.

  SIMRAN: How did it turn out?

  RADHA: It tasted like flour.

  SIMRAN: Ah. You just need to practice. Once you get the right combination of ghee, flour, and sugar, you’ll be great.

  RADHA: I’m super familiar with practice, but this is a whole different type of routine for me.

  SIMRAN: And doesn’t that make it all the more exciting?

  After Radha left Jai’s store, she knew something was wrong. That night, he didn’t respond to her dumb dance-meme text message, and when she met with the senior dancers on Monday, he skipped the session. By Friday he’d sent her a total of five texts and had said hi to her only once in the hallway. Luckily, she’d connected with the seniors right away, so she didn’t really need his help, but she’d thought they were…well, friends. He was treating her like a total stranger now.

  “I don’t understand what I did wrong,” she told Shakti.

  Shakti sat on the floor of the studio they occupied and waved a water bottle around. “Even though I date people with different gender identities, non-communication appears to be universal. You’re on your own, Radha.”

  “First, we’re not dating. We’re just friends. How do friends fix things?”

  Shakti shook her head. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be single right now.”

  “We’re not dat— You know what? Never mind.”

  “Hey,” Shakti said as she got to her feet. “Haven’t you ever dated someone who decided to ghost you? What did you do in other situations?”

  “Shakti, I’ve never dated, or been ghosted, or anything. I was in twenty-four/seven, three-sixty-five competition mode for, like, most of my life, remember? No one wants to be friends with someone like that, let alone a boyfriend.”

  “Wow, super pathetic.”

  Radha rolled her eyes at her friend, even though Shakti was snickering. “You’re the one who’s going to pay with practice.”

  “Hit me with it,” Shakti said with a laugh. “I have to be the best I can be. The Winter Showcase is really important. There are going to be a ton of recruiters there, and even if I don’t get into a dance company, I want to know that I did my best to try.”

  Radha threw herself into refining the intro with Shakti for the rest of the day; then she spent hours in the kitchen that night cutting vegetables and learning knife skills to temper her anxiety. By Monday she swore to herself that she wouldn’t be awkward about Jai’s sudden disinterest. Maybe he’d never liked her in the first place, and he was just being nice. He had called her a friend on more than one occasion. That meant she’d have to ignore him the same way he’d ignored her, even if he had been the first person she’d felt connected to since moving to Jersey.

  She was still thinking about him when the halls cleared after last bell on Monday. Radha changed into her workout gear and hurried to their first two-hour practice. She was halfway there when she started to hear the thumping bass, and it only grew louder as she closed in on the practice studio.

  “What in the holy Gita is going on?” Radha approached the door and peeked through the clear glass pane. Jai, in the middle of a circle, surrounded by the male dancers on the team, was completely consumed in a freestyle bhangra party.

  When she’d first met Jai, she’d thought he looked like a younger version of Ranveer Singh. Now she realized that he might look like Ranveer, but he danced like Hrithik Roshan. Not that Ranveer was a bad dancer. But Hrithik was…well, he was just better. Jai didn’t have a stiff or inflexible bone in his body, and he appeared so carefree as he laughed with his friends. He looked so happy.

  He was happy, while she’d been miserable and anxious for eight whole days. The pit in her stomach hardened.

  She had to stop thinking about Jai. Channeling every guru she’d ever had, Radha watched the chaos in the studio. That was not how kathak dancers warmed up.

  She was just about to enter when the door flew open and a familiar face smiled at her. “Are you just going to stand here all day?” Hari asked.

  Radha scanned his workout gear and loved that his dastaar matched the accent colors on his shorts.

  “Hari, you don’t want me in there.”

  “Why is that?”

  She patted him on the shoulder. “Because you’re going to be so sore by the time Shakti and I are done teaching you the intro of the routine.”

  “Radha!” Shakti said from the other side of the room. “You’re here!”

  The music cut off abruptly. Every head in the studio turned in her direction, including Jai’s. He was breathing heavily, but he hadn’t broken a sweat yet. His T-shirt stretched against his chest, and a little dampness had started forming at his collar.

  “Hey,” he said, the smile slipping from his face.

  “Hey,” she said. You j
erk.

  Someone nudged him in the arm, and he rolled his eyes before cupping his hands around his mouth.

  “Team! This is Radha. She’s the new student in our senior class, and for those of you who don’t know her, she has a classical-dance background and will be choreographing our Winter Showcase routine. She’s already started with the seniors, who are going to assist today.”

  The entire team called out hellos.

  Radha laughed. “Uh, hi,” she said. She scanned the expectant faces, waited for the few cheers to die down. She held up her tablet. “Jai, can you connect this to the speaker, please? I’d like to start with a warm-up track.”

  “Oh, we’re warmed up.”

  “From what I saw, that was a circus, not a warm-up.”

  Hari made an “oooh” noise before Vik shushed him.

  “Fine,” Jai said. “We’ll do it your way.” He took the tablet from her.

  Radha put her bag down at the front of the room, ignoring Jai’s glances in her direction as he plugged her device into the speaker system.

  He’d promised to help her with schoolwork, with getting through this choreography, but how could he if he was going to ignore her like she was contagious? Well, she wouldn’t break her promise. She’d agreed to choreograph the Bollywood Beats dance routine, and she would. In the end, she’d still be able to get out of performing.

  “I need two rows, seven dancers each row,” she said, her voice echoing against the mirrored walls. “The seniors have heard this, but for everyone else: I learned kathak for, well, forever. I went back to India every summer starting when I was seven to take intensive classes. I attended a performing arts school in Chicago, and although I’m not as strong in other styles, I am familiar enough with them to choreograph.”

  I think.

  “As for our concept,” she continued, “who’s attended an Indian wedding?”

  Someone snorted. “This is central Jersey. Practically everyone in this school has been to at least one Indian wedding.”