Bargain: Rhea

“Come on, girl,” I say. “You’ve gotta have at least one.”

“YES!” Parth chimes in. “There’s a reason we didn’t get Karthik along. You’ve got to have this one.”

“Exactly!” I say. “Karthik would’ve never even allowed us to walk past this place. We worked so hard to keep your big bro away from our outing. And now, by staying morose, you’re disrespecting our hard work.”

We sit at a table in the corner, and a tray crowded with shots of vodka awaits us. Parth and I look at Rhea, but she’s lost. I’m fed up. I’m fed up of her silence, her blues, her disinterest in the world around her. Which is why I talked to Parth and made this plan happen. I want her to start living again. I want her to be her again. But she, clearly, doesn’t agree with all this.

“Commencing countdown T minus ten… nine…” Parth starts counting. He chuckles and looks at Rhea. She smiles, but it isn’t a smile. And I can only wonder how a smile can be so heart-breaking, how a smile can make me almost cry.

“WHAT is wrong with you?” he says finally—two minutes after ending his countdown without getting a reaction from Rhea.

“I’m sorry guys. It’s just that… This is the place our first date took place. I can see it all happening. All of it right in front of my eyes. We sat there,” Rhea says pointing to a table against the cerulean wall, “and he kept telling me jokes of all sort and I kept looking right in his eyes.”

Parth shoots me a look. “Obviously, Sheena here doesn’t yet understand what a ‘perfect plan’ means.” I mouth a ‘Sorry!’ and he just shakes his head.

“But I thought you were over him,” I say, trying to make up for the lethal silence. “After that email you wrote to him, and after all that has happened in these few days, I thought that maybe—maybe you have moved on. Or are at least in the process of moving on.”

I look at her and she stays still. She doesn’t look up at me, or roll her eyes, or shed a tear. She does nothing. And I guess Parth has seen enough of all this, as he squeezes beside her on her couch and holds the shot of vodka up for her to grab. He looks hurt, as he places the shot down after holding it in his hand for over a minute.

“He didn’t like drinking,” Rhea finally says.

We look at her, awaiting an explanation.

“Look, this may all sound weird to you, but I just don’t want to drink, coz he would’ve never wanted me to. I don’t want to do anything that he wouldn’t want me to. And it’s not coz I’m immature and believe that doing this would bring him back. I just want to be the person he wanted me to be,” she says, as we sit, speechless.