Work Text:
“Damn, girl, you look beautiful…ly intelligent.”
Kamala whirls around at the sound of the familiar voice to find Manish Kulkarni leaning against one of the pillars in the auditorium lobby, sticking out in the crowd of graduates and attendees in his charmingly unconventional paisley oxford.
“Sorry,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “That was a terrible opener. I shouldn’t be undermining this incredible accomplishment by making it about your looks.”
She steps closer to him, surprise blooming warm in her chest. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
He half-bows. “Congrats, by the way.”
She grins at the awkward gesture—he wears it well—and asks, “Who are you here for?”
“Oh, uh, I’m friends-slash-bitter-rivals with the Graduate Chair, actually, and I owe him a drink.”
Kamala raises her eyebrows. “I see.”
Manish opens his mouth, clearly about to say something else, but then his expression turns to one of worry when something barrels into her from behind, knocking her forward a step.
“Kamala! Thank fuck that’s over, right? Who knew graduations were so freaking boring.”
She cranes around her shoulder to see who’s impeding her ability to breathe. “Oh! Devi, it’s you.”
“Who else?” Devi asks, blinking up at her and hugging tighter. “Anyway, I got a great shot of you accepting your diploma. I texted it to you for approval before blasting it all over the social-meeds even though it’s kinda unnatural how pretty you look in a cap and gown so you really have nothing to worry about. And have I mentioned that I hate you?”
“You did,” Kamala says, patting Devi’s hands where they’re balled together at her belly button and noticing that her sleeve is pinned by the embrace. She tries to work it free, but Devi just squeezes even harder, forcing her to give up. “Twice on the way over here.”
“Okay, well, I’ll probably say it again at least once more before you take them off.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Kamala says, which makes Manish snort.
“Which you’re not allowed to do yet,” Devi continues. “Pati and Mom want us to meet them out front by the big sign so they can take pictures.”
Manish gives a low whistle. “You’re gonna be waiting around a while, then. Everyone wants to take pictures with the big sign.”
“Whoa,” Devi says, finally letting go of Kamala, who sucks in a deep breath. “Mr. K? What the fuck are you doing here? Are you stalking my cousin?”
“Language, Devi! This is a highly respected institu— You know what? Nah, I don’t even care. We’re not on school grounds, so you’re not my responsibility.”
“Not until you become my brother-in-law,” she says, grinning hard. “Then I’ll be your full-time concern.”
Manish shudders.
“Okay, Devi,” Kamala says, slipping her arms around her cousin’s shoulders to steer her away and ignoring the burning heat in her cheeks. “Let’s go. It was nice to see you, Manish.”
“You should really consider getting a life, Mr. K!” Devi calls back to him.
Kamala glances back in time to see him shooting Devi a peace sign. She smiles to herself.
“Man,” Devi says, shaking her head. “I can’t believe he wants to bang you so bad, he willingly sat through that whole ceremony.”
“Devi, please,” Kamala says. “We’re friends.”
“Friends who constantly undress each other with their eyes.”
Clearing her throat, Kamala says, “Did you really find the ceremony boring? I was surprisingly moved by the stenographer’s remarks.”
“Is this your way of asking me to change the subject from you clearly wanting a piece of my English teacher?”
She flashes Devi a toothy grin. “Is it working?”
Devi rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I mean, I guess the stenographer was cool. Her pantsuit was dope, right?”
Kamala sighs, relieved. “Very dope.”