“That’s a liquid,” I say, laughing quietly at the thrown expression on his face. “She’s making real food.”

After a moment, it seems Ace decides not to question it. “So what have you been doing all day?” he asks instead, taking off his leather jacket and draping it across his lap. Underneath is a preppy designer sweater that’s sure to heighten my grandma’s impression of him.

I gesture to the television. “I’ve been watching Bollywood films.”

“I thought you weren’t Indian.”

“I’m not. I can still watch Indian movies, asshole,” I say, rolling my eyes. It feels good to settle back into our usual routine.

“Feisty,” Ace says, grinning at me. “Are there subtitles?”

“Well, I can’t speak Hindi,” I say, raising my brows. “So, yes, there are subtitles.”

“That was a stupid question,” he concedes. “Can you give me a rundown of what’s happened so far?”

“Are...are you going to watch with me?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. I’m not going to make you change movies because I’m here. What’s happened so far?”

“Uh.” I rack my brain for a way to summarize the plot, but I’m having difficulty even processing the fact he’s willing to sit here and watch a Bollywood film with me. “The main character, Naina, has a dysfunctional family, and she doesn’t believe in love or happiness and all that. Then this dude Aman suddenly shows up and brings all this wonderful energy and brightens every aspect of her life by helping her family and friends and her. He encourages her to live life to the fullest and she...falls in love with him because of it.”

Ace tilts his head, his eyes searching my expression. I purposefully keep it as blank as possible, because it’s hitting me how similar this movie is to my current state of affairs. “Is that it so far?”

“No,” I say and clear my throat. The rest of the movie isn’t as relatable, thankfully. “Aman is also in love with Naina, but he has a terminal illness. Still, Aman wants her to be happy even when he’s gone, so he hatches this plan to make Naina fall in love with her best friend, Rohit, who’s also in love with her.”

Ace blinks. “That’s...rough. Does Aman die?”

I shrug and gesture to the screen. “I guess you’ll have to watch and find out.”

“What are we waiting for then? Press play.”

I hide my smile behind my blanket and hit play.

I start crying not even five minutes later, when Aman reads a speech about loving Naina from Rohit’s diary.

Ace looks at me in alarm. “Why are you crying?”

“He—” I sniffle, wiping my nose. “There’s nothing in the diary. Those are Aman’s real words.”