Rahul unwrapped the bar and, this time, took a tiny bite of the corner. Looking at Caterina, he said, uncertainly, “Rahul Chopra.”
She smiled, a real smile, and he nearly fell off his chair. “Excellent, Rahul Chopra,” she said, and he’d never heard anything as beautiful as his full name in her mouth. “That’s another lesson down.”
CATERINA
“Handshakes are how men are judged at this kind of thing,” Caterina explained. They’d moved on from the dining table. Now they were standing, facing each other, in front of the windows. Outside, a blanket of snow had started to fall, coating the rolling hills of the campus in pure white. It was Caterina’s favorite kind of weather.
Straightening her shoulders, Caterina held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, smiling the gracious, elegant smile she used in high society.
“Oh, you too,” Rahul said, grabbing her hand as if it were a malfunctioning water pump handle and jerking it enthusiastically up and down. His maniacal grin slowly faded at her stony expression. He paused the jerking and then let go of her hand. “Um, too much?”
“Far too much,” Caterina said as calmly as she could manage. How could a Rosetta student be so undereducated in proper etiquette? “Your mother is the chief minister of Delhi, is she not?” she asked, suddenly afraid that Rahul was actually a street urchin who’d just wandered in for warm meals and a bed and this was all a case of mistaken identity.
“Yep. We don’t talk a lot, but I did get a Google alert saying she was headed to Canada for a speaking engagement, and the article did reference her formal title, which is ‘Mukhyamantri’ or ‘Chief Minister.’ ”
Caterina frowned. “You don’t talk a lot? Why not?”
Rahul flushed a faint pink and looked away. Curious. “She’s, ah, busy. It’s always been that way with her and the rest of my family; my father and older brother, too. They’re all jet-setters, very engaged in my mother’s career.” He managed a weak smile, then took off his glasses and focused intently on cleaning them.
Caterina felt a tug of pity in her heart. What Rahul wasn’t saying, but what she was hearing anyway, was that his family was ashamed of him. Perhaps his… odd… way of being in the world was something they’d tried and failed to fix. Perhaps Rosetta Academy was a way for them to sequester him from the public eye without feeling guilty about it. She thought of her own father, always eager to have her on his arm at various events, and realized how lucky she was to have the relationship she did with him.
She cleared her throat delicately. “Right, of course. Politics is very demanding.” After a pause, Caterina broached a topic she’d been meaning to broach since she’d asked him to do this. “So… I was wondering, ah, about your social relationships. Do you have, that is, is there a diagnosis?” It was clumsy, but she’d never been trained on anything like this. In her usual circles, she’d never dream of bringing it up, but this was important.
Rahul looked confused for a moment, but then his brow cleared. He wiped his palms on his pants. “Are you asking if I’m on the autism spectrum?”
Caterina nodded.
“I’m not.” Rahul looked her steadily in the eye, but he licked his lips as if he were nervous. “People often wonder that about me, but Ari—um, the school psychologist—says I have social anxiety and am supremely logical, which is different from being on the spectrum.”
“Ah.” Caterina studied his expression; his cheeks were stained pink. This was hard for him to talk about. He was probably afraid she’d judge him, like almost everyone probably did. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I wanted to be sure I was being sensitive to your needs.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I appreciate that.”
Sensing that they both needed to move past this, Caterina said, “So. Back to that handshake.”
Rahul appeared relieved at the change in subject. “Back to the handshake.”
Caterina held her hand out again. “Take it gently, but with a firm pressure,” she advised.
Rahul paused, regarding her hand as if it were a complex advanced calculus equation he was trying to solve in his head, before taking it between two fingers, like he was afraid it would break.
Caterina sighed. “No.” She withdrew her hand. “Hold out your hand. I’ll demonstrate.”
He did, and she took it, wrapping her fingers around his hand, feeling the warmth in his skin. Her hands were always too cold. “Like that,” she said. “Do you feel the pressure?”
Rahul was turning a flamingo-pink color. “I—I do feel it. Pressure,” he said, his voice cracking.
“And how is it?” Caterina asked, not understanding why he was having such a reaction to hand shaking. Was he a secret germophobe? But he’d had no issues taking her hand the first time around.
He cleared his throat. “Ah, it’s—it’s gentle.” He licked his lips again, as if they were dry. “But, um, f-firm.”
“Right. Good.” Caterina pumped his hand once. “One or two pumps, max. Anything else is too much. Do you understand?”
He was still staring at their hands. “Yep. I got it.”
“And study my hand. Where is it in relation to yours?”
“Um…” He kept staring at their hands until Caterina was concerned he was going into some sort of weird trance. “Your hand is in mine,” he said finally, faintly, as if he were having trouble believing it.
“Yes,” Caterina replied impatiently, “but what else?”
“Um…”
Ugh. This strange Rahul trance had gone on long enough. “The webs of our fingers are aligned, do you see? My hand isn’t on top of yours, which would imply that I’m in control of you.”
Rahul looked up at her at last, still looking like he was in a daze. “You’re in control of me?”
What was going on with him? “Yes. And you don’t want to offend anyone at the gala, so keep your hand in line with theirs.”
“Okay.” He smiled a little moonily at her.
“Okay.” Caterina withdrew her hand. “Now. On to the next thing.”
“Which is…?”
“Air-kissing,” Caterina said matter-of-factly, and Rahul collapsed back against the window.
RAHUL
“Are you okay?” Caterina said, frowning, reaching for his elbow. “Do you feel faint? There’s some kind of flu going around.…”
“No, no, I’m fine,” Rahul insisted, righting himself and forcing his body not to sway.
First she’d held his hand for what felt like an hour, her skin all soft and silky and cool against his. And now she wanted to air-kiss him? Okay, so that wasn’t a kiss kiss, but still. She would be up close to his body. He’d be able to smell her perfume. Oh God. The thought made him want to simultaneously run away and sing a hymn about the wonder that was Caterina LaValle in a quavery, religious voice. She wanted to air-kiss him. Voluntarily. What else could a guy want in life, really? Rahul had the distinct sense that if a lightning bolt came through the window right now and struck him in the heart, he’d die with a smile on his face.
“If you’re sure…” Caterina eyed him up and down suspiciously. He had to get over his starstruckness if he wanted her to continue her lessons.
Forcing a more solemn expression and broadening his shoulders, he said as confidently as he could manage, “I’m sure. So. We’re on to air-kissing.”
“Right.” Caterina took a step closer to him, and Rahul forced his heart to stop its useless spluttering. “Now, if you were at an event in New York City, you’d do just one air-kiss on the right cheek. But since our event is in Denver this year, we’ll be doing two air-kisses on the right cheek, just like everywhere else in the world.”
Rahul frowned, his curiosity piqued in spite of himself. “Why is it different in New York City?”
“Because they think they’re special,” Caterina said wearily, as if she were tired of New York’s shit. “Anyway. Two things to keep in mind: Absolutely no lip or skin contact. They call it an air-kiss for a
reason. And two, it’s always right cheek to right cheek.”
“Okay, got it.” Rahul’s mouth had gone completely dry. Why were his spit glands malfunctioning right now? Traitors.
Caterina stepped forward once more, until she was just a few inches away from him. Then, placing one hand on his upper arm, she leaned forward, so close that her luscious wavy hair tickled the side of Rahul’s right cheek. Her perfume wafted over him, gentle as a spring breeze—just a touch of rose and something else, something fresh and pure. He heard her make a kissing sound, and in spite of the fact that his entire body had seized up, Rahul forced himself to follow suit. He had to prove a good student, or she might just give up and take one of Alaric’s perfect human mannequin friends to the gala.
Caterina pulled back and studied Rahul’s expression. He hoped she didn’t see his deranged muskrat expression (that Leo had informed him he got when he was nervous), but rather, a human who appeared to be quickly learning all the lessons she was imparting. “How was that?”
“Good,” he said immediately, his voice about three and a half octaves too high. Clearing his throat, Rahul tried again. “That, um, I think I got it. Yeah.”
Caterina took a step back, and Rahul immediately regretted not saying that he needed to practice it two or three more times to get it down pat. That’s what Leo would’ve done. Unfortunately, Rahul Chopra had absolutely zero game. The day the universe was handing out a heaping ladleful of guile and charm, Rahul’s genes had gone in for a second helping of every flavor of social inadequacy instead.
“Excellent.” Caterina clasped her hands together, a faint smile at her lips. “I think we should stop there today. I don’t want to overwhelm you with information. Are you sure you don’t need to write it down?”
“I’m sure,” Rahul replied. “I have an—”
“Eidetic memory,” Caterina finished. “I remember.”
“Maybe you have one too,” Rahul quipped, and then was inordinately pleased with himself. Usually that joke would’ve come to him hours later, when he was in the shower or about to fall asleep.
Caterina’s faint smile turned into the real thing, and Rahul couldn’t help but stare, transfixed. “I sincerely doubt that.” She turned and pulled out her cell phone, typing a message to someone. “So, tomorrow, then? Same time?”
“Tomorrow,” Rahul agreed, his heart pounding. She wanted to see him again. He hadn’t messed it up. Yes! “At Nyx, for lunch.”
“Right,” Caterina said. “We’ll work on table manners some more. See you then.” And she swept out, still texting.
Rahul stood for a long minute, staring after her. Then he pulled out his phone, meaning to text Leo. And realized he could do no such thing. He was sworn to secrecy. Dammit. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned to the window. The entire campus was quiet, huddled under a fresh coat of snow, devoid of all signs of life. It seemed he was the only one in the world. And yet, right then, Rahul didn’t feel alone.
CHAPTER 7
RAHUL
“Come shoot some hoops with us.”
The next morning, Rahul looked up from his book (the latest etiquette book by Myka Meier—with a dust jacket from his chess manual to disguise it) to see Grey and Leo in his dorm room, Grey spinning a basketball on his index finger. Jeez, every time Rahul looked at him, he couldn’t help but notice that the dude had gotten even bigger during winter break. What had Jaya’s family fed him? Rahul closed his book. “I think I’ll sit this one out, but thanks.” He was meeting Caterina at Nyx for lunch in just a couple of hours; he couldn’t afford to get all red and sweaty before then. Besides, he’d rather spend his time reading the etiquette book anyway.
“Oh, come on.” Leo bounded over and sat at the foot of Rahul’s bed. “We need one more to make an even team against the juniors. They—how do you say? Oh, oui—they whooped our asses last time before break, but I have been practicing all break long.”
“I need to read.” Rahul gestured to his book. “Sorry.”
Grey walked in and leaned against Owen’s, Rahul’s roommate’s, dresser, making it creak in protest. Thankfully for Rahul, Owen was an overenthusiastic, overly social dude who liked to spend as little time as possible in his dorm. “What’s going on, man?” Grey frowned. “We’ve barely seen you since school started.”
Rahul laughed a little. He’d been practicing for this question. “School only started two weeks ago.”
Grey quirked one corner of his mouth, his blue eyes piercing in that eerie way, as if he could read your mind. “That’s not really an answer to my question.”
Rahul shrugged, starting to feel a prickle of uneasiness. He wasn’t the best liar, given more to logic and facts than smoke and mirrors. “Nothing’s going on. I’m just… you know… reading and stuff. Busy.”
Leo was frowning now too. “Busy reading? But you have always been a reader.” He looked up at Rahul’s collection of chess posters on his wall. It was something of a joke with him and Leo; he’d been adding them so steadily over the years, destroying every inch of blank wall in every one of his dorm rooms over the years, that they practically qualified as wallpaper. “Have you added any new posters yet?”
Rahul followed his gaze. “Um, I don’t think I have room for any more posters. Besides, like I said, guys: We’ve only been in school for two weeks.”
Leo looked at Grey like, You see?? He hasn’t added any posters yet; clearly he is in the process of dying from a very rare and protracted illness that has affected his brain. Thankfully, Grey wasn’t nearly as hysterical.
“Okay,” Grey said in his unflappable and cryptic way. Rahul could tell he wasn’t buying it.
Rahul began to sweat under the weight of Grey’s gaze.
Rolling his eyes, Leo said, “Thanks for that contribution, Grey. Very helpful.” Looking at Rahul, he added, “Maybe later this weekend we can all get together and do something?”
“Sure,” Rahul said. “What about Sunday evening?”
By then the gala would be over and he would be returning to real life. Rahul felt a shot of despondency at the thought of Caterina going back to not really seeing him in the hallways anymore, but it was what it was. There had been a part of him that had hoped, by being the best student ever, that Caterina might slowly begin to see that Rahul could fit in her world. But so far that hadn’t happened, and Rahul had to admit that it wasn’t likely to happen in the short time they had remaining before the gala. Oh well. At least he’d gotten to spend all this time with her.
“Sunday it is.” Grey pushed himself off the dresser and strode with his ridiculously long legs out the door.
After a brief moment, Leo nodded, stood up, and followed him.
CATERINA
Caterina prided herself on being someone who was rarely, if ever, impressed. And yet, in this moment, she had no choice but to admit she was, in fact, extremely impressed.
On Friday afternoon, the day before the Hindman Gala, she sat back in the booth at Nyx, the restaurant at which she and Rahul had just eaten lunch. Caterina studied him, shaking her head slowly.
“What?” he asked nervously, leaning forward. “Did I do okay? How many this time?”
Caterina consulted her phone quickly, breaking an etiquette rule, but this was important. Looking back at him, she said, “Not a single etiquette mistake or grievous social faux pas that time.”
Rahul gaped at her. “Seriously. Not one? Not even a tiny half mistake?”
“Not even that.” Caterina took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I think you’re ready for the gala.”
“I’m ready,” Rahul said in wonder, the lights of the restaurant glowing purple in his black hair. It was always nighttime at Nyx; the ceilings were made to look like the night sky, using fiber-optic lights and special panels. Normally, Caterina didn’t go in for gimmicks, but this was the only remotely “fancy” restaurant in the area. It crossed her mind that she could buy the place; it had potential. She’d talk to her people about it la
ter. “I’m really ready.”
“Good thing, since it’s tomorrow.” Caterina signed the receipt the waitress had deposited at their table a few minutes ago. She’d insisted on paying. One, this wasn’t a date, and two, she knew for a fact that the LaValles were much, much wealthier than the Chopras. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
After a lengthy pause, Rahul asked, “Will there be a lot of cameras there?”
Caterina put the pen down and looked at him. “Yes, there will. As I said, all the society pages and a few lifestyle magazines were invited. Why?” She crossed her arms and studied him. “You’re not changing your mind at the eleventh hour, are you?”
“No, of course not!” Rahul said immediately, and Caterina relaxed a bit. It would be nearly impossible to find a suitable date this late, even for her. “It’s just that…” He played with his napkin, which was definitely an etiquette breach, but Caterina held her tongue. She wanted to hear this. “I’m not really great with cameras. I kind of… seize up.”
Caterina cocked her head. “But surely you’ve done a few professional photography sessions for your mother’s campaign, gotten some media training. I know you said she’s busy, but politicians like to trot out their families for photo ops.”
“I’ve forgotten everything they taught me as a kid,” Rahul explained. “And after a few really bad pictures…” He cleared his throat, a faint pink hue coloring his cheeks. “Um, my parents began using one of my distant cousins as a stand-in for me. Apparently, we have the same bone structure.” He pointed to his nose and jaw, but kept his eyes averted. The funny thing was that Rahul had a strong jaw and an aquiline nose. They could be handsome if he were to own them with just a little more confidence.
Caterina’s heart contracted in her chest as the waitress swung back around to pick up the check. “They… use someone else in pictures. You mean like a body double?”
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