Part7
This part is in Twinkle's POV
After school I went straight to my host home. I'd seen Renee at lunch, and she'd told me I could use her bicycle. How typical of a guy to remember at the last moment that a girl needed to prepare for a date.
Whoa! I stopped that thought. This excursion, as Kunj called it, was not a date. No way. We were just going to work on our project for sketching class. Hopefully I could find something other than the Eiffel Tower to sketch. I refused to be boring Twinkle from Amritsar.
But before I went on the field trip to Ho-hum or wherever Kunj planned to go, I needed to get psyched up. And my best friends were the greatest at helping me accomplish that goal.
I sat at my desk, turned on my computer, logged on to the internet and accessed Facebook. They were there and waiting.
Twinkle: Hey guys!
Chinky: Twinkle! Good to see you! :)
Priya: Twinkle, how is Paris?
Twinkle: Paris is beautiful. How is Rome?
Priya: Interesting, I'm engaged in a little experiment with a guy named Antonio.
Chinky: what kind of experiment?
Priya: teaching him a lesson. Unfortunately, the better I know him, the more I'm regretting this brilliant idea I had. He hates Indians. And he doesn't know I'm Indian, since my skin's too pale.
Twinkle: what?
Chinky: what?
Priya: It's a long story. How's your host brother Chinky?
Chinky: He has a girlfriend.
Twinkle: bummer :(
Chinky: Her name is Aliya, and she's beautiful. :P
I laughed. Chinky had just stuck out her tongue at me. I felt for her. I'd met her host brother while I was in London. Kiran was really cute, and he had the nicest British accent.
Priya: So, does the Twinkle queen have any dates yet?
I groaned. I'd failed to mention my lapse of judgement when I messaged them yesterday. Priya, of course, would ask. I debated what to tell them.
Twinkle: not really, I'm going on an outing with Kunj this afternoon.
Priya: Kunj Sarna?
Chinky: though he was boring.
Twinkle: He is. The purpose of our outing is to show him exactly how dull he is.
Priya: why bother?
Good question. Trust Priya to get to the heart of the matter.
Priya: Hello, Twinkle! Why aren't you answering? You don't like him, do you?
Twinkle: no way!
And I didn't like him. At least, not in the boy-girl kind of way that Priya meant. My point system proved that Kunj wasn't the one for me. I glanced at my watch. Yikes! Kunj was going to be here any minute.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I sat on the front steps that led into Renee's house. The houses on this street were all brick, very narrow in the front, and hemmed in by houses on either side. So different from my home back in Amritsar.
Renee's bike was leaning against the wall beside me. I'd thrown on a navy blue sweat-suit because the weather was already cool in Paris. Pleasantly cool, but I figured it would be close to dark by the time we got back, and it would be much cooler then. I wore a baseball cap too.
I glared at the bicycle. I couldn't remember the last time I'd ridden one. I hoped I remembered how.
I heard the whir of wheels, turned, and froze.
Kunj brought his bicycle to a grinding halt only inches away from me. He wore an honest-to-gosh cyclist's outfit. The shorts and jersey were hugging his body like a second skin. It looked like he'd probably had to melt down his body and pour it into those clothes to get them on. The muscles on his calves were well-defined-just like the muscles carved onto the marble statues I'd seen yesterday.
And his thighs looked rock hard-like granite. I swallowed.
"Don't you have a helmet?" He asked.
I snapped my gaze to his. Gosh. Even his shoulders looked firm. I remembered being surprised when I'd punched him yesterday. I was stunned. "You cycle for real, don't you?"
He removed his helmet. His brown hair was plastered to his head. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, we're going to cycle over one of the roads that the use in the Tour de France."
"You told me you didn't have time for sports," I reminded him indignantly.
"I said I didn't have time for SCHOOL sports. Our school doesn't have a cycling team," he remarked. He extended his helmet. "You can wear my helmet."
That action seemed a little too personal, and I definitely did not want to get personal with this guy. I backed up a step. "That's okay. I'll be fine."
"Twinkle, it's really dangerous to cycle without a helmet," he said seriously, like a parent lecturing a child.
"It's okay for you to be in danger but not me?" I shot back.
"This excursion was my idea. I'd feel bad if anything happened to you." He said quietly, as if he was embarrassed to admit it.
"I kinda like the idea of you feeling guilty," I said.
"And I prefer the idea of you not getting hurt. Let's switch the head gear." He suggested.
If I were honest, I wasn't all that confident in my ability to keep the bike upright. I just hoped that before we were done, I wouldn't regret not having shin guards and elbow pads. I handed him my cap, took his helmet and settled it into place.
He grinned, that lopsided. Cute grin. "That's some stunning outfit."
"This isn't a date," I pointed out. But I wished I had worn something a little nicer. I hadn't even bothered to freshen up my makeup. What was I thinking? What did I care? This guy was Kunj Sarna. Indian. Not French.
I watched as he shoved my cap into one of his pockets on the back of his jersey. Indignation ran though me. "Aren't you going to wear my cap?"
He shook his head slightly. "Pink really isn't my color."
"But it makes such a fashion statement." I exclaimed.
He blushed. "A fashion statement I can do without, thanks all the same. Come on. We've stalled long enough. Follow me," he ordered, and began pedalling.
I grabbed Renee's bicycle, hopped on, and started after him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We cycled out of the city, alongside the lush green countryside. I was embarrassed because Kunj had to keep slowing down so I could catch up to him. He'd even walked up a couple of hills with me, pushing his bike and mine. Of course he'd only done that after he'd reached the top of the hill, glanced back, and realized I was fighting an uphill battle that I probably wasn't going to win. The guy was so totally in shape that I couldn't help but be impressed.
I remembered all the riders whizzing by during the broadcast of the Tour de France, and it was obvious to me that Kunj was pretty darn close to being in their league.
But the time we arrived at the hilltop where he finally stopped, I was breathing hard, and my muscles were trembling.
He looked like he'd just taken a Sunday stroll.
"You took that curve back there awfully fast," I chastised as I took off the helmet.
He touched a little monitor on the handlebars of his bike. "Forty-two miles an hour."
"You are serious about this." I murmured.
"Actually, I'd like to ride in the Tour de France someday," He said as he took our bikes and leaned them against a tree.
I was still catching my breath. He removed his backpack and took out a blanket, the spread the blanket over the ground. I slipped my backpack off my shoulders. I had my sketch pad and my pencil, but that was about it. I couldn't imagine trying to cycle while carrying anything else.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Sit down,"
I dropped onto the blanket, grateful for the opportunity to rest my legs. Kunj handed me a bottle of juice. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter as I squirted the liquid into my mouth. And it hit me that he'd put a lot of thought into this excursion-even though it wasn't a date.
"I've got some goat cheese here, some apples, a baguette, and a few other things. Just help yourself," He offered as he spread out the snacks.
"You thought of everything," I murmured, breaking off a piece of the crusty bread and some cheese. To my surprise, I was famished.
He gave me that lopsided grin. "I get hungry when I cycle."
I smiled back. "I can see why. You don't exactly do a leisurely ride."
His face burned red as if my observation embarrassed him. "What do you think of the view?" He asked.
I looked past him, and breath backed up in my lungs. It was the first moment I'd actually looked around to see where we were. "Oh my gosh."
From where we sat, I could see the Eiffel Tower, framed by trees and deep blue sky. "It's beautiful," I whispered in awe.
"Worth sketching?" he asked.
"Definitely," I responded without thinking. Then I shifted my gaze to him.
He looked so pleased with himself. He settled back against the tree and picked up his sketching pad. "Guess you could sketch a tree," he teased.
I took my sketch pad out of my backpack. "I could. But I won't."
"You're rare Twinkle," he said quietly.
I snapped my gaze to him. My heart was pounding in my chest. I didn't like the way he was studying me. Too intently, intensely. "Rare?" I squeaked.
"A girl who admits when she's wrong." He gave me a cocky grin that broke the mood.
Thank goodness.
"I'm so seldom wrong that I don't have a problem admitting when I am," I responded haughtily.
He laughed then, a deep, booming laugh. It echoed between the trees, echoed around my heart. His laughter was a definite three. Warm and full of life. I wished I hadn't realized that.
I turned my attention back to the Eiffel Tower. "We'd better get busy here. It'll be dark soon."
I started sketching like crazy. The sooner I finished, the sooner we'd leave. And the sooner I'd be out of the presence of Kunj Sarna.
I got confused whenever I was near him. He was from Amritsar. That fact, in and of itself, guaranteed that he would not be romantic.
And yet here I was on a hilltop outside of Paris gazing at the Eiffel Tower, an unexpected picnic spread before me...and helmet resting beside my thigh because he didn't want me to get hurt. Even though it meant exposing himself to the dangers of a head injury.
I knew guys from Amritsar. Had dated one of them. Romance was foreign to them. Kunj was a definite contradiction. I couldn't figure him out, and I kept telling myself that I didn't want to.
I drew lines and shaded and worked hard to concentrate on the drawing. Anything to stop me from noticing the guy sitting against the tree, sketching as well. I didn't want to notice the way his hand swept over the paper or the deep furrow in his brow.
OR the way the muscles beneath his jersey quivered. There should be a law against clothes that snugly. They were too distracting.
An eternity seemed to pass before my sketch was complete. Relief coursed through me. This non-date that was closer to a date than anything I'd experienced with Yuvraj was about to come to an end. I held up my creation for Kunj to see. "What do you think?"
He grinned and took my pad. I watched him run a critical eye over the lines and shadows I'd drawn.
"Hey, this is really good," He said, his voice reflecting admiration.
My heart did a little somersault. It was the artist in me that longed for his approval, I told myself. Not the girl.
"Let me see yours," I prodded.
His face turned red, and he shook his head. He handed my pad back to me and closed his own. "Mine's not that great,"
"Let me see," I insisted.
He shoved it into his backpack. "It's really amateurish."
"You have to expect that," I explained. "You haven't taken any art classes before."
He started to put away the remains of our picnic. I was really pleased with my sketch, but I felt bad that it had made him feel like his wasn't any good. "It takes lots of practice to draw well," I said kindly, encouragingly.
"I know," He moved closer as he gathered the last of the items and put them in his bag.
I raised up on my knees, preparing to get off the blanket. My gaze fell on the horizon and I stilled.
The majestic sunset cast a golden glow over Paris. I had never seen anything so spectacular. Or so romantic. Picture-postcard perfection. I forgot to breathe.
I smiled warmly and turned to Kunj. "Thank you for sharing this place with me," I said softly.
He was so close, his eyes so rich a brown, like the most expensive chocolate imaginable. I felt like I was drowning in those eyes.
"Do you think a true artist could paint this view without imagining a couple kissing?" he asked quietly.
I slowly shook my head, captivated by his nearness. I couldn't remember Yuvraj ever getting close to me and just hovering, waiting, creating an anticipation I couldn't explain.
Kunj inched closer. "The kiss doesn't have to mean anything, but it should be there. Don't you think?"
I wasn't thinking at all. I was just immersed in his presence, the artistry of the moment. I nodded slightly.
He lowered his mouth to mine. His lips were soft and tender, not at all what I'd expected. Gentle, even. Kunj kissed like there was no finish line, no rush.
If he gives this kind of kiss when it doesn't mean anything, I thought, a real kiss from him...would be painted in colors so warm, deep and vibrant that it would never be forgotten
-||-
Well, that's what happened! 😛 Hope it was okay, and not too detailed! Let me know! Oh and I hope all you readers have an amazing sunday! 😃
DO NOT COPY THIS POST AS THIS IS EXCLUSIVE TO INDIA FORUMS
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