My So-Called Bollywood Life(10)



“Okay, everyone. Settle down,” Mr. Reece said. “We have an agenda to stick to.”

“Why don’t you start,” Raj said. He reached into his pocket for his phone. “I was going to read your text anyway if you weren’t going to…show or something. And sorry about Ms. Jackson. I should’ve known she’d forget to tell you in person. She sent us both an email early this morning.”

    “Oh. Well, I should’ve checked my email, I guess.”

She smiled at the audience as brightly as she could. “It’s a new year and we have the calendar of movie showings on the group site. All we have to do is make sure we have the projector and donation box set up at each event.”

Winnie went through her talking points, fielding questions from Mr. Reece and making notes on her phone when she had an action item. Raj stood silently at her side, with his legs braced.

“Do you want to add anything?” she said when she finished.

He shook his head. “You’ve got this.”

“Great. The last thing I wanted to talk about is our biggest event. The film festival!”

Cheers erupted in the auditorium. Winnie grinned. “I checked the submission portal, and it looks like students from all over the U.S. are already sending in their shorts. We’ll have sign-ups on the group site for the committees. Now, we usually do things like a car wash, an international bake sale, or a screening, but we are going to try something different this year. The film club is hosting a school dance. It’s in a couple months, so please plan on attending. We need the extra funds for our operating budget. I’ll let you know when I do—”

“Wait,” Mr. Reece said, standing up. “I thought one of you handled the film festival and the other oversaw the club activities.”

    “Well, the job has a lot of crossover, so Ms. Jackson assigns co-presidents to take care of both. That way everything is covered and all projects have a backup.”

“But that’s against the rules for student clubs,” Mr. Reece said. “There can only be one president, and all major events have to be led by another member of the club.”

Winnie looked at Raj. “But that’s always how film club has worked. Since we were freshmen.”

Mr. Reece shook his head. “I’m going to have to talk to Ms. Jackson about this, because it sounds like there is an imbalance of workload here. School rules are school rules.”

Winnie felt a sinking sensation in her stomach again. Before Winnie could comment, she saw Bridget waving from the crowd. Let it go, she mouthed.

Winnie had to count to five before she responded. “Okay, then, next week we’ll talk about the festival location at Princeton University.”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Reece said. He looked at his wristwatch. “Since I have to leave for a prior obligation, we can call an end to the meeting. Raj, thanks for the opportunity again. I think this is going to be a great year. Winnie, I appreciate your control on the Star Trek jokes.”

“I aim to please.”

“Right. Okay, thanks, everyone. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He gave Winnie a pointed look and then jerked his chin up at Raj as if he was bro-ing it out before he left, using the side aisle of the auditorium. Winnie turned to talk to Raj, but he was already grabbing his bag and bolting without a backward glance.

    She sighed as she exited stage left and met Bridget in the aisle.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Bridget whispered. “You had such an awesome vibe going on, like you totally didn’t care that he broke your heart on every social media site that ever existed.”

“Bridget, what the hell was that? Raj looked so sad, and then he let me take over. And what’s this whole thing with our new faculty advisor? Mr. Reece has barely tolerated me since I had him for homeroom teacher freshman year. He better not split up the festival and the film-club roles, because both have to be on my college application if I’m getting into NYU.”

“Yeah, that’s a game changer, isn’t it?” Bridget said.

Dev Khanna stepped into Winnie’s line of sight. He topped six feet, and he had beautiful dark skin and a lean frame. Something inside Winnie’s stomach fluttered.

“What’s the deal with Raj, the film-club traitor?” he asked, running a hand through his wavy hair. He locked eyes with Winnie. There was that strange click again. Some things from freshman year hadn’t changed after all.

“Wow, right to the chase,” Bridget said. “Isn’t this the first time you’ve spoken directly to us in, like, ever? What gives, Tarantino?”

Dev shrugged. “It’s the first time you guys aren’t attached at the hip to Raj. He’s been a tool since high school started. Now you know that, too.”

    Winnie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She’d felt it go off during the meeting but hadn’t had a moment to check. When she saw the slew of twenty-one text messages from her mother, she knew that facing the film club was just the beginning of her nightmare.

Dev peeked over her shoulder. “Looks like your mom’s caps lock is stuck.”

“Oh crap,” Bridget said. “Your mom’s texting you in caps? Do you think she found out? I told you it would backfire, Winnie.”

For once, Winnie was speechless.

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