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16 - First

THIS IS JUST PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.

shrishti, gayathri, stop reading this story and go study for your physics mock exam.

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16 - First

Maya Sumedh

It was pounding with a sledgehammer, beating with a rod and banging with a plank.

Hangovers suck.

 When I woke up in the morning I was in my bed, swathed comfortably in my sheets, and the last thing I remembered was pulsing sound and panic. After that it was a hazy blank, but I knew that Rohan had been at that party – I knew enough to know what Luke had done for me. I had no memories of what happened afterwards.

 For about ten minutes, I could barely move. Vaguely I registered that I wasn’t in my party clothes anymore – I was wearing pyjamas and an extremely loose t-shirt (which I vaguely recognized as Luke’s) that added to the feeling of being swaddled like a baby.

 I didn’t even bother to feel embarrassed that Luke had changed my clothes. I think I was past the point of caring.

 My vision was blurry – I could only imagine how he’d managed to take off my contacts.

 When the throbbing in my head dulled to a more manageable level, I sat up slowly and swung my legs off the bed, squeezing my eyes shut to fend off the vertiginous feeling. Then I stood up, grabbing my glasses from my bedside cabinet and put them on.

According to my phone, it was almost noon.

Thank God Ma and Dad are at work now, I thought as I exited the room. But I knew I’d get in trouble for coming home so late last night…oh well. I’d face it when it happened.

 After I stepped out of my room, I glanced at Luke’s – the door was shut and it was dark under the door, so I assumed he was still asleep.

 I needed to talk to him properly – but I guess he needed to be awake for that.

 I stumbled downstairs to the kitchen – the house was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the occasional dog barking or bird chirping. The kitchen was bright, sunny. I winced in the harsh light as I went over to the fridge, yanking it open.

 I grabbed a bottle of cold water thankfully, wrenching it open. It was like the sweetest ambrosia as I poured it down my throat, relishing its absolute tastelessness.

 Fuck, I am never drinking again.

 “Wow, don’t you look hungover.”

 A familiar voice sounded in the doorway – I put the bottle down and turned around.

 Meera stood there, smiling prettily at me. She was wearing what I recognized as one of Sam’s boxers, and his t-shirt, and despite the fact she was wearing his clothes, it didn’t scream out I had sex with your brother last night.

 I think I’d have liked Meera if she wasn’t the only thing standing in the way of Layla and Sam finally happening (look at me, shipping people in my life as if it’s a badly written teen fic story). She was nothing extravagantly special – she wasn’t drop dead gorgeous like, say, Megan, she wasn’t beautiful in a quirky way like Layla – she was just pretty, and that was about as far as it went. She was safe, quiet, with an occasional rebellious streak – that streak being the piercing she had on her belly. She was conventional – long dark hair, pretty eyes, yes-aunty, no-aunty, how-are-you-uncle, perfect Hindi, that kind of stuff. The parents adored her. I just kept my distance.