Their Wonder Years: Fall 98

Chapter 171: At the Boutique (1)

The boutique was a riot of color and chaos.

Silks and sequins shimmered in every corner. The fluorescent lighting bounced off crystal-studded lehengas, zari-trimmed dupattas, and mirrors that seemed to reflect every ounce of male misery in triplicate. Tyrel, Ravi, and Jorge stood together near a circular couch, arms crossed, eyes glazed, shifting from one leg to the other like cattle awaiting judgment.

“How long does it take to try on a damn dress?” Ravi whispered, tugging at his collar.

Jorge shrugged. “I think I’ve seen the same lehenga twelve times.”

“It’s all the same color, man,” Tyrel muttered. “Red, dark red, light red, lighter red. It’s like wedding Groundhog Day.”

A saleslady whisked past them, clutching an armful of gold bangles. Someone inside the changing area squealed.

The boys exchanged a look.

More giggles erupted. Then a voice called out - LaTasha’s, unmistakably playful and wicked: “Baaaabe… come here. I need your eyes.”

Tyrel straightened. “Mine?”

Another door creaked. Camila’s voice, soft and accented, floated out. “Jorge… por favor, could you check this for me?”

Then Nandita, crisply and sweetly: “Ravi, come help me with the back hook? It’s being rude.”

The three boys froze.

Ravi blinked. “Did they just…?”

Tyrel was already halfway to the dressing area. “Every man for himself.” He then disappeared like a looney toon leaving behind just his outline.

The trio stumbled through the velvet curtain entrance to the fitting zone like they were entering Valhalla. The girls had taken over the entire back half of the boutique - there were discarded sandals and glittering accessories strewn across chairs, sari wrappers lying like casualties of war, and a faint whiff of expensive perfume in the air.

And then they saw them.

LaTasha turned first, her dusky skin glowing under the gold tones of her blouse. It was cropped high, the embroidery just skimming the edge of her bust, and the lehenga below her hips was tied but askew. Her hair was pinned up, showing off her neck and collarbones like an invitation.

Tyrel swallowed hard.

Nandita stepped out next, one hand holding her half-draped dupatta. The deep maroon silk curved perfectly around her waist, and the choli - God help them - was threatening to disobey gravity. She smiled as she caught Ravi’s stunned expression.

Camila emerged last. Her pale blue lehenga shimmered with tiny bells and silver thread. She leaned up on her toes to whisper in Jorge’s ear: “I want to try something new tonight. Something I practiced.”

Jorge turned red from his jaw to his ears.

“You alright, baby?” she teased.

He nodded slowly. “I need to… sit down.”

Tyrel had backed into a corner and was now clinging to a clothing rack like it could save him from spontaneous combustion.

LaTasha tilted her head. “You okay, sugar?”

Tyrel nodded. “Yep. Totally fine. Jus dyin’ a little.”

She walked up to him and gently brushed her chest against his arm while “adjusting” her skirt. “You know, I think it might be time.”

“For…?”

She smirked. “For us. You and me. To stop pretending we’re just foolin’ around.”

His brain shut down for five seconds.

At the same time, Nandita was behind Ravi, adjusting her bangles while whispering in his ear. “After the show… I think I want to go all the way. You’ve been so patient. So good to me. I want you.”

Ravi made a noise that may have been “ohgodyes” but came out more like a strangled hiccup.

Jorge, meanwhile, was trying to breathe normally as Camila brushed her fingers down his chest. “You’re coming home with me tonight, okay?”

He nodded like a man hypnotized.

Ravi turned to Tyrel. “Is this real life?”

Tyrel didn’t answer. His knees were shaking too much.

Tyrel turned slowly in place, eyes glazed. “We’re not prepared. No one warned us. This wasn’t in the guy manual.”

LaTasha took his hand and placed it firmly on her bare waist, grinning as he froze. “Feel that?”

“I feel… terror.”

“It’s desire, baby.”

Across the room, Ravi was still recovering from Nandita’s whisper. She leaned forward now, lifting her arm as if adjusting her blouse, but letting her chest brush against him as she did.

“You’ve seen me in salwars, kurtas, hoodies… but not like this,” she whispered. “Tonight, I want you to help me take it all off.”

Ravi knocked over a nearby mannequin.

“Easy, tiger,” Nandita laughed, catching his arm.

Camila was now looping her dupatta loosely around her shoulders - not to cover up, but to highlight. Jorge, poor boy, looked like he had aged ten years in five minutes.

“You really practiced something new?” he asked, voice an octave too high.

Camila tilted her head. “It involves breath control. And maybe ropes. You'll find out tonight.”

Jorge blinked. “Breath-oh Dios.”

“I bought mangoes,” she added sweetly, as if that made it better.

“Why would mangoes make it-?!” Jorge was spiraling.

Ravi gripped the edge of the display table. “Okay. Okay. We need an emergency exit strategy. Something-anything-to survive till tonight.”

“Duct tape,” Jorge muttered. “Just duct tape ourselves to the truck bed and pray for unconsciousness.”

“You think Tyrel’s truck can go fast enough to knock us out?”

Behind them, a shop assistant cleared her throat politely and whispered to Nandita, “Ma’am, would you like to finalize these?”

Nandita smiled sweetly. “Yes. Please bill the blue, the maroon, and the champagne ones. Boys, go wait by the door.”

“We’re coming with you?” Ravi asked, dazed.

“To the register,” Nandita said. “Then we’re picking up mangoes. And after that-well. You’ll see.”

The sun had dipped below the horizon, but the pavement still radiated heat. The girls walked ahead, carrying garment bags and chatting as if they hadn’t just set off three cardiac events.

The boys trailed behind like survivors of a small war.

Tyrel leaned on the truck’s tailgate and exhaled. “We made it out.”

“Barely,” Jorge groaned.

“They were half-naked and full-danger,” Ravi whispered. “I felt… spiritually altered.”

“Did Camila really say ropes?” Jorge asked.

Ravi nodded. “And mangoes. I'm not even sure if it's one event or two.”

Tyrel looked toward the sky. “Lord, if you're listening, give us strength. Or stamina. Whichever comes first.”

The girls turned back just then, eyes twinkling in the golden light.

“Buckle up, boys,” LaTasha called.

“Tonight,” Nandita said, lips curved into a grin, “is going to be… auspicious.”

Camila just winked.

And the boys, hearts pounding, legs weak, followed them into the truck - not to escape fate, but to meet it head-on.