"Exactly." Dimple grinned, victorious. "It's your own fault."
Rishi groaned. "Meanie," he whimpered.
"You're such a baby." But Dimple caressed his cheek with a fingertip, smiling. "What can I do for you, oh ye of voracious appetites?"
Rishi looked at her, an eyebrow raised, smiling in what he hoped was a dashingly lascivious manner.
She swatted his chest lightly. "Not that."
"You said I have a voracious appetite," he said, laughing, and then groaned again when his stomach spasmed.
"Okay, no more laughing," Dimple said. "I mean, I love you and all, but if you barf in here, I am not cleaning it up."
She was smiling, but Rishi could tell by the way her hands were fidgeting with the wet paper towel that she was worked up. "How're you doing?" he asked, lying on his side to see her face more easily.
Dimple sighed and hung her head. "Ugh, not well. I'm so not good at waiting for things."
Rishi wheezed a laugh, careful not to upset his sore stomach. "No way. You strike me as such an easygoing person."
Dimple glared at him. "I am easygoing," she snapped in the least easygoing way possible, and then they both laughed. "Okay, so I guess you're right. But this time things feel even more . . . fraught than usual. It's just so important to me, you know? Jenny Lindt. Changing people's lives. All of it."
Rishi sat up, ignoring the lurching of stomach acid and the slow roll of the wave of nausea washing over him, and grabbed her wrists. "You are going to do it. Change lives. Jenny Lindt would be lucky to meet you, Dimple. You're amazing."
She laughed and rolled her eyes, and he wished he could make her see it-the way he saw her, the dazzling beauty that was her glittering soul.
Dimple stood. "Okay. I'm going to get some more paper towels and another bottle of water from the good vending machine at the end of the hall." She pointed at him mock sternly. "No throwing up while I'm gone."
Rishi lay back, groaning. "Scout's honor."
CHAPTER 52
Dimple was attempting to balance two water bottles and a pile of dripping paper towels when Celia ran up to her and took a few things. "Thanks! I really should've planned that better."
"Ah well," Celia said. "How is he?" They began to walk back down the hallway toward Rishi's room.
"Better, I think. These paper towels seem to help with his nausea."
"Ministering to his fevered brow, how romantic," Celia said, laughing.
"Shut up," Dimple replied. "It's just so he wouldn't puke on me."
"Yeah, right. I expect you to be making soup from scratch next, with organic vegetables you grew in your garden out in the country." Celia flashed a mischievous grin at Dimple. "If you don't watch out, he's going to turn you totally domestic."
Domestic.
The word echoed in Dimple's head. Was Celia right? She was turning domestic, wasn't she? She was becoming everything she'd said she didn't want to be. She had a boyfriend-a pretty serious one- going into freshman year. Everything the voice had said that night in Rios? It was all true, wasn't it?
And gods, he was so traditional. So trustworthy and practical and stable. He was a savings account. Dimple was eighteen. She didn't need a savings account. She needed adventure and spontaneity and travel. She needed to make a few bad decisions and have a few boys break her heart. Wasn't that what she was after? Living life on her terms? So how had she gotten mired in the same pit of domesticity as her parents?
Dimple pushed open Rishi's door feeling hot and cold, the paper towels like wet lead in her hands. When she looked at Rishi, her heart didn't bloom like it usually did. Suddenly, she wasn't sure what she felt, what she was supposed to feel. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.
But Rishi didn't seem to notice her inner war. He was sitting up in bed, his phone in his hands. "Just got a text," he said, looking up at her. "The judges are done. They've picked the winner of Insomnia Con."
Celia gasped as Dimple rushed to her phone; she'd left it on Rishi's nightstand. Max's text simply said Announcement time .
• • •
Everyone sat in their usual places, even though there really wasn't any reason to anymore. (Except for Celia. She was waiting in their room with Ashish, who was finally finished with the campus tour some guy on the basketball team had given him.)
Dimple found a comfort in her old seat, her arm pressed up against Rishi's, everything like it had been for the last six weeks. For the moment she forgot all the thoughts that had been tumbling through her head back in the dorm. The judges had come to a decision early. What did that mean? Something good? Something terrible? She'd never heard of this happening before.