"Thanks," Rishi said, "but I don't-"
"We would love to," Dimple said firmly, ignoring Rishi's glare.
• • •
Outside, the air felt cool and revitalizing after the mugginess of Little Comic Con. Dimple inhaled deeply as they walked away, leaving the noise and the heat and the laughter behind. The world was dark and cold, the stars still obscured by fog. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and playing with Dimple's hair. She pulled it up into a bun. "So," she said lightly, "what'd you think?"
"I'm a little hungry. You up for some of that gelato we'd talked about?"
Dimple nodded slowly. "Yeah. But, um, are you going to tell me what happened in there?" She glanced at Rishi; she couldn't read his expression. "I mean, if you want to."
For a moment his expression stayed like that-stonelike and unyielding. But then he took a deep breath. It seemed to begin at the soles of his feet and travel up to his mouth, like he was carrying a weight he was glad to set down for a moment. But when he spoke, his voice was temperate and controlled, mild. "I just don't see the point in wasting time-mine and other people's-on something that's never going to happen." Rishi looked at her and said, almost defiantly, "I am never going to be a comic artist."
Dimple wondered whose benefit he was stating it aloud like that for. "So what if it's not going to be your career? You still love it, right? Why can't you just do it as a hobby?"
"It's too time-consuming," Rishi said, but even he didn't sound convinced. "And it all snowballs. You saw that-Kevin wanted me to apply there. Leo Tilden wanted to see my sketches. Much ado about nothing."
"They're excited for you," Dimple said, shaking her head. "I think it's great that there are people who want to see you succeed. You keep saying you're not going to be a comic artist, but I think the point is that if you wanted to be, you could."
Rishi laughed, but there was no joy in it. "It's not that simple. I mean, it's great for Kevin Keo that he just knows he wants to be a comic artist and feels free to pursue it. But I'm not like that. Do you know the odds of someone becoming the next Leo Tilden or Stan Lee? A million to one. I know what's important to me-I want a life. I want to get married and have a family. I can't support a family working as a waiter and hoping to break out as a comic book artist."
"You're eighteen." Dimple looked at him, wondering if this were some weird universe where Rishi would turn out to be a two-thousand-year-old vampire instead. "You don't have to worry about all of that yet."
Rishi sighed and kicked a small rock in his path, sending it skittering off into the night. It lay glittering under a tree. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. I'm never going to be that crazy eighteen-year-old party animal, you know? It's just not my scene."
Dimple smiled. She loved a challenge. "Really? Have you ever been to a party? Like, in high school?"
"Sure I have."
Dimple raised an eyebrow. "Like, a legit party. One a parent didn't organize."
There was silence. She laughed. "You were thinking of Diwali parties, weren't you?"
"Hey, they're legit parties!" Rishi said, but he was laughing too.
"Okay, we're totally going to this party." Dimple held up the piece of paper on which Kevin had scribbled the address.
Rishi made a face. "Really?"
"Really. You don't have to be a ‘party animal' to go to a party and have a good time. I've been to a few small ones with friends in high school, and I swear they weren't so bad. It's a chance to hang out, that's all." Seeing him open his mouth to argue, Dimple rushed on. "Besides, just look at it as a social experiment. You have to go to at least one college party, right? It's like a rite of passage. You can just get it out of the way now, with me as your guide."
After a moment, he shut his mouth. "Oh, fine."
Dimple jostled him with her shoulder. "Good. You might even have some fun."
"This is insane." Rishi and Dimple stood across from the house where the party was.
There was no mistaking they were at the right location. The front yard was decorated with what looked like a DIY glow-in-the-dark bowling set made from plastic water bottles with glow sticks inside them. People were trying to knock down the pins while screeching with laughter. What Rishi was pretty sure was a life-size doll sat in a tree like she was watching the proceedings, her lips, hair, and dress glowing from the black lights strung in the tree branches. The front door was open, and the music pouring out of it was so loud that the bass shook the ground under Rishi's feet. "We can't go in there. Those people look drunk off their butts."