Seventeen and Done by Vibha Batra

Author:Vibha Batra [Batra, Vibha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788184759471
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2013-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

BlackBerry Messenger Status: Sorry, Bhai!

After the Mausiji-falling-into-ditch fiasco happened, we almost welcomed a new member into our family.

See, I’d lied to Mom and she confronted me later that night. I walked in to find Mausiji rubbing Iodex on her ankle. Honestly, her face looked more swollen than her ankle.

Quick flashback.

The second date with Google didn’t go so well. Just think about it. That whole episode with Mausiji landing on the rear windshield and then the ditch. Gawd. I was in no mood to eat. (Oh, yeah, it was that bad.)

We drove around aimlessly for the first fifteen minutes. And eventually ended up at Fruit Shop on Greams Road.

‘Shit, that was close,’ Google groaned the minute we sat down.

Close? Close?

‘Googs, I’m dead. Finito. Finished.’

‘Shit, what’re we going to do?’

‘You mean, what am I going to do.’

‘Yes, yes. What’re you going to do?’

Thanks, Googs.

The waiter materialized and handed us the menu cards.

‘So, what do you think?’ I asked Google, a worried expression on my face.

‘I’ll have Jughead’s Special. It’s my favourite juice,’ Google smiled.

‘No, you dumbo! What do you think I should do? When I go back home.’

‘Oh, that. Okay, how about this? Chill for now. You’ve been through a big shock. Give yourself some time to think, have some juice.’

I settled for a lime mint cooler. But I couldn’t really enjoy it. My mind was on the emotional tsunami waiting for me at home.

To add to my woes, Google didn’t happen to compliment me. On the clothes I’d so painstakingly picked. Orange skinny denims and a white frilly Benetton top. The cutesy hairband and the chunky bracelet from Accessorize also failed to draw any appreciation. Boys, bah!

Back at my place.

I ambled in and deposited my bag on the dining table.

‘Mom, I’m home,’ I cried out.

The two ladies practically vaulted out of their rooms.

‘Why did you say Robin was picking you up?’ Mom asked accusingly.

I was quiet.

‘Rinki, I asked you a question,’ Mom said sternly.

‘Because of this, Mom,’ I said in obvious frustration.

‘This?’ Mom raised a well-plucked eyebrow.

‘All this, Mom,’ I said flailing my arms about. ‘This unnecessary drama, the tears, the fireworks. Gawd, I can’t handle it.’

‘So you’re saying it’s okay to lie?’ Mom said, tears springing to her eyes.

‘Ask her if there’s something going on between her and the fat boy.’ That was Mausiji, who else?

‘Stay out of this, Mausiji,’ Mom barked. Mom had never ever confronted me like that. Dad, yes. Mom was only too happy to hover around in the background and let Dad do all the talking. I guess, with Dad away in Coimbatore and The Mausiji Menace looming large, she’d no choice but to step into his shoes. Play Mother India, so to speak.

‘Mom, please! There’s nothing going on between me and Google.’

Not yet, at any rate.

‘Then you should’ve no problem tying him this,’ Mom sniffed, waving a rakhi in the air.

Oh, gawd. No idea where that came from! The rakhi, I mean. Raksha Bandhan was way back in August. How’d she manage to get

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