novelraw Chapter 204: Ten more days
Chapter 204: Ten more days
The doors to the study lounge swung open with a dramatic creak, and in walked Mia Rivera, arms stacked with garment bags, chin high, and confidence blazing.
“Delivery from the House of Maria!” she announced. “Hope y’all are ready for sparkle.”
The gang turned as one - and the room exploded.
“MIAAAA!” Camila shrieked, practically leaping from her seat. “You have got to hear what happened today with Bharath, Marisol and Sarah!”
Everyone except Bharath repeated what happened again causing everyone to roll on the floor laughing again as the Haiku was fished out and read aloud. It took a while before things returned to normal.
The girls finally seized the bag of costumes and launched into the beautiful dresses.
“LaTasha, look at that shine,” Nandita said, eyes wide as gold sequins peeked from the top of a slightly-unzipped bag.
Marisol beamed, pushing up from the couch. “You did it!”
“I helped stitch, match bangles, and label hooks,” Mia said proudly, letting the bags hit the table with a satisfying thump. “I even sorted earrings by weight. Because that’s who I am now.”
Sarah pulled her into a fierce side-hug. “You’re a legend.”
Mia laughed. But beneath the swagger, something glowed inside her - something soft and private.
This is my family now, she thought. These girls. This chaos. This warmth. This ridiculous, sparkling family.
The girls circled the bags like kids on Christmas morning, already calling dibs on colors and accessories.
The boys?
Less moved.
“Great,” Ravi muttered, half-flipping through his calculus notes. “More glitter in my backpack.”
Jorge yawned. “We rehearsing in normal clothes or-?”
LaTasha cut him off. “Costumes. Today.”
The room froze.
Bharath looked up. “Wait. Really?”
“Maria’s orders,” Marisol said. “Fit check, movement test, and maximum impact.”
Tyrel straightened like someone had yanked his soul upright. “As in… y’all gonna dance. In those outfits.Today?”
Mia smirked, hands on her hips. “You look nervous, Ty.”
“I’m sweating,” he admitted.
Ravi dropped his pen. “We have calculus. I need focus.”
Camila grinned. “Good luck with that.”
Mia nudged Bharath gently as she passed. “Hope you stretched.”
He looked up at her, a little breathless already. “I’m gonna need more than stretching.”
She winked. “Then hydrate. And pray.”
Jorge stood slowly, eyes wide. “I take back every complaint I had about rehearsal.”
Mia sat beside Sarah and let herself melt into the couch as the girls opened the bags with reverence and giggles. The scent of fresh starch and fabric dye filled the room, mixing with the low thrum of anticipation.
She looked around - at the chaos, at the teasing, at Bharath still blushing under Marisol’s smirk.
And she smiled.
This isn’t just a group. This is mine too now.
The practice room had never felt this electric.
It was the same old dance floor - scuffed linoleum, mirrored wall with a crack in the corner, someone’s abandoned Coke can in the corner.
But when the girls stepped out of the side room - now dressed head to toe in Maria Rivera Originals™ - the space turned holy.
LaTasha came first, her teal and silver lehenga swirling around her knees like a waterfall. Then Nandita, in rich burgundy with a gold choli that shimmered every time she breathed. Camila twirled in a fiery red outfit that made Jorge drop the bangle box he’d been holding.
Then Sarah stepped out, her dark plum skirt trailing slightly as she walked, bare midriff gleaming, eyes lined with kohl.
Marisol followed. Emerald. Intentional. Perfectly hers.
And finally - Mia. pink and orange, embroidered blouse hugging curves that dared the mirror to keep up.
The boys?
Ruined.
Tyrel was the first to speak. “Okay. I take back everything I’ve ever said about cultural restraint.”
Jorge had his arms folded, but his jaw had dropped halfway open. “Camila. That’s illegal.”
Ravi said nothing. Just turned pink. Then red. Then deep maroon.
Bharath swallowed hard. “I forgot what we’re supposed to be doing.”
“You’re supposed to be dancing,” Mia said sweetly, twirling once just to let her dupatta catch the light.
“Right,” Ravi croaked. “Dancing. Got it. Totally professional.”
The girls exchanged glances and barely-contained smirks.
They knew what they looked like.
This wasn’t modest, temple-style tradition. These outfits were performance-ready, flashy and modern and just this side of scandalous when caught mid-spin.
Camila clapped twice. “Alright, positions!”
The music clicked on - a percussive Bollywood track with sharp beats and swaying bridges.
The group lined up. Girls in the center, boys circling - glorified props with arm gestures and backup energy.
And the rehearsal began.
It started strong. Steps hit on time. Spins had flair. But by the second chorus, reality set in.
“My skirt’s too heavy!” Mia shouted as she tried to complete a hop.
“My anklet’s caught,” Marisol muttered, trying not to trip over her own rhythm.
Sarah nearly smacked Bharath in the face with her dupatta mid-spin. “Sorry!”
Jorge called out from the back, grinning. “Worth it!”
Tyrel stepped on the edge of LaTasha’s train and immediately ducked. “My bad! Don’t kill me, queen!”
Camila yanked her bangles off mid-dance. “These rattle like maracas. I sound like a damn tambourine.”
Despite it all?
They were gorgeous.
The mess made it better.
The room was a riot of fabric and energy and breathless laughter.
More coordinated. Mia had tied her dupatta tighter. Marisol had looped hers like a sash. Sarah had pinned down the part that tried to assassinate Bharath earlier.
This time, the rhythm clicked.
Camila and Mia hit their mirrored duet spin. Marisol’s shoulders rippled with every beat. Nandita flowed from step to step like her skirt had a mind of its own.
And behind them, the boys waved their props, swayed in wide-eyed sync, and gave their girlfriends the most visually stunned backup dancing in campus history.
Tyrel, under his breath: “I don’t care if we practice this till midnight. I’ll wave this lamp till my arm falls off.”
“Agreed,” Jorge muttered. “This is church now.”
Ravi, voice cracking: “Did Sarah just wink? She winked. I’m not okay.”
At the final beat, the girls struck their pose - arms up, skirts flared, eyes smoldering.
The guys just stood there.
Breathing.
Staring.
Applauding.
Camila smirked. “So?”
Tyrel shouted, “Best. Rehearsal. Ever.”
Jorge gave a chef’s kiss to the air. “Ten outta ten.”
Sarah sauntered over to Bharath. “You good?”
He was still catching his breath. “You spun. My life flashed before my eyes.”
“You’re welcome.”
They ran it two more times - smoothing transitions, dodging rogue dupattas, adjusting jewelry for survival.
And every time, the guys clapped louder.
No one wanted to leave.
“Where else would we go?” Ravi asked at one point. “There’s calculus homework. Or this.”
“Exactly,” Jorge said. “This is culture.”
Bharath couldn’t stop smiling. The music. The laughter. The warmth.
And those girls - his girls - dancing like the stage was already theirs.
Family. Fun. Fire.
He didn’t know how the Diwali crowd would react on Saturday.
But he already knew:
Nothing they’d ever perform again would top this rehearsal.
Tyrel’s old pickup truck rumbled down the quiet residential street like a low-flying aircraft. Marisol was behind the wheel - hair tied up, hoops glinting under the streetlights - looking smug and very much at home in a seat that still had a chain steering wheel knob Tyrel insisted was “for flavor.”
Sarah was riding shotgun, feet up on the dash, humming something Latin and percussive under her breath.
Bharath?
In the backseat.
Or more accurately, in the arms of Mia, who had wasted no time the moment they pulled out of the parking lot.
“I only have thirty minutes before I get thrown back to peasant life,” Mia whispered dramatically, arms locked around his neck.
“Don’t call your mom’s house a peasant life,” Bharath murmured, nuzzling her cheek. “She’s terrifying.”
“She’s working late again,” Mia said with a pout. “Besides, I’m a princess in exile.”
She kissed him like she meant to write the whole saga of their night on his lips and shoved his hands under her top directing him to manhandle her breasts. “Please papi. I need to remember you. Squeeze them hard!”
Marisol’s voice drifted lazily from the front. “Míaaa... don’t fog up Tyrel’s windows. He’ll think we got it detailed.”
Sarah smirked without looking back. “Or stolen. He’ll definitely
think we stole it.”Mia grinned and whispered against Bharath’s lips, “Let them joke. You’re mine for five more minutes.”
And they kissed like time could be paused if you just held each other hard enough.
When the truck pulled into the driveway, Mia reluctantly peeled herself away, smoothing her hair and giving her shirt a halfhearted tug.
“Okay,” she sighed, flinging the door open. “Time to pretend I’m not completely ruined emotionally.”
“You’ll be fine,” Marisol said, stepping out and joining her on the walkway. “You're coming back tomorrow. After school.”
“Obviously.” Mia gave Bharath one last peck before leading them to the front door. “But you’re calling me first thing in the morning.”
Maria opened the door still in her scrubs, a little tired but smiling at the familiar sight.
“Buenas noches,” she said, stepping back to let them in.
“Just dropping off the wild one,” Sarah said sweetly.
“And coming to give credit where it’s due,” Bharath added, holding up one of the choli blouses still folded in his hand. “This stitching is... unreal.”
Maria’s eyebrows lifted, then softened. “It’s not hard to make something beautiful when the girls wearing it are already halfway there.”
Marisol hugged her from the side. “She means she likes our taste in colors.”
“I like your taste in getting things done,” Maria said, eyeing the group fondly.
Her eyes paused on Sarah - who stood confidently, quietly - then drifted to Bharath.
There was a flicker there. Something warmer than she let show.
But all she said was, “I won’t be able to make the show Saturday. My schedule shifted. Someone else’s baby’s coming early.”
Everyone’s faces fell.
“We understand,” Marisol said softly.
“Still... we’ll miss you,” Sarah added.
Mia wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “I’ll describe every second in graphic detail.”
Maria ruffled her hair. “Please don’t.”
But she was smiling.
And as the girls hugged her and Bharath gave a polite wave, she watched them walk out with something quiet and full blooming behind her chest.
They love each other, she thought. And they love her.
Whatever it looked like on the outside… it was good.
That was enough - for now.
Mia stalled on the porch, arms crossed.
“This blows.”
“School starts at eight,” Sarah reminded her gently.
“So do fantasies,” Mia muttered.
Marisol leaned out the window. “We’ll call you. Promise.”
Sarah winked. “You’ll hear everything. We’re doing big things tonight.”
Mia perked up. “Big?”
“Very big,” Marisol said. “Celebratory.”
“Sensual,” Sarah added.
Bharath, now buckled in, turned bright red.
Mia laughed. “I hate you both.”
“You love us,” Marisol shot back.
Mia pointed at Bharath. “You better call me before first period.”
“I will,” he promised.
As they pulled out of the driveway, Mia called after them:
“TEN MORE DAYS!”
And then she stood there on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around herself, smiling like a girl who already knew she belonged - even if she had to wait just a little longer to prove it.