Twice Upon A Time

Part 3- Josh

He was right indeed. Nope, the mansion isn't my parents' home. I founded it myself. All the builders and staff and all the architects and everyone involved were paid by my own money. Alright, so how does a teen get so rich without inheriting his parents' riches, or without making obscene Miley Cyrus-like music videos? Well, long story cut short, I assisted the FBI and the CIA in the prevention of a coup d' état of the US Government for which I was paid handsomely (as handsomely as 100 million bucks). Of course, being from an ethnic Bengali Zamindar family, I was used to living life comfortably. But never as comfortably as this though. Although we never had to struggle for money, life was much, much simpler back in Calcutta.... Those days..

AAARGGHHH!! My head was burning again.

So what was I saying? Yes. There you go with those words. Bengal. Zamindar. I have no freaking idea what they mean. And where on earth is Calcutta? Must be in India. I made a vow to myself to Google these things up as soon as I reached home. I noted down the words Zamindar and Calcutta on my phone. I had no time to Google it up then. I will use my laptop when I get home. Lots of research to be done.

"Sir, are you alright, Sir? Please take a seat here." The man seemed anxious at my state.

"I'm fine. Just give me a glass of water."

"So, if you're feeling alright, what should you be looking for?" He asked politely.

"I'm fine, thank you. Just find me anything that's trendy and fashionable for a teen here in America."

"Right away, Sir."

"Oh, and please be quick. I need a minimum of 6 pairs of pants, cargo, jeans, whatever. And half a dozen shirts or tees. And 5 pairs of shoes too."

"Right away, Sir" he replied and trudged off.

I stared at my watch. 8.15. Gosh.

I left after about half an hour, after changing my clothes in the Trial Room; putting on a leather jacket, was it? On a plain but expensive shirt, and dark-shaded jeans. Then I left after making the necessary payment and also a tip for the wonderful gentleman who helped me and also for the lady at the counter who winked at me when I got there.

"Thanks a lot, all of you." I barked and rushed off.

"Have a good day, Sir", the gentleman said. Of course, the lady at the counter again winked at me.

I hurriedly typed the address of the college in the GPS tracker. Thankfully it was nearby, and I drove at what felt like a 100 miles an hour and reached the college at 8.55.

"Late on the first day of college, are we, Josh?" said Mr.Trueman. I knew most of my teachers and had met them already. Jacob made sure that I knew all the people beforehand so that I could trust them. He narrated my plight too, albeit behind closed doors, and not in front of me, and I still wonder why. I have lots of question marks about my past, some of which I know, some of which I don't. But I think it will suffice me to say there's more to me than meets the eye.

As I was answering Mr.Trueman as to why I was late, I was interrupted before I could even begin.

"Mr.Trueman!! Mr. Trueman!! How do you let such dogs study here? I'm pretty sure this guy Pete Davies got admitted here only on sports quota? Plus, his playboy dad is rich, isn't it?" A beautiful middle-aged blonde woman blurted out. She was so beautiful I was pretty sure that her daughter, if she had any, must be an angel. Oh! Now I remember! Just moments before, as I was parking my car, I noticed her furiously slapping a guy. He seemed like a student. So I deduced he must be this Pete Davies, whoever he is.

"Well, Mrs. Smith, I'm afraid there's very little I could do. But, just out of curiosity, exactly what happened?" Mr. Trueman enquired.

"Well, Mr. Trueman, not only was he openly cheating on my sweet, little, innocent daughter, he was also objectifying women right on my face! That's outrageous!" She screamed. Obviously her tirade must have been targeted at Pete, but her cheeks were a strawberry-red. Gosh, was she furious!

"Calm down, ummm, Mrs. Smith. Anger can never resolve a problem. Slapping him will be nothing but a pebble in the path of his life. You see, life is like a Cosine or Sine graph. It's a scientific term. In short, it's just like a wave. Full of crests and troughs. He doesn't know the extent of his mistakes. He's actually on the slope between the crest and trough. Not hard to fall down, but very hard to get up. In his defense, your daughter is as faulty as him."

"Who are you, young man? You sound British and look like a Bollywood actor. And yes, as correct as you are, still he deserved that."

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I'm no actor. I'm a student in my freshman year of college. Nice to meet you. I'm Josh. How do you know about Bollywood?" I shook hands with her.

"You seem like a wonderful man. My daughter should meet you. She's also in her first year of college. Her name's Aubrey. And well, I have only ever watched one Bollywood film, translated from Hindi to English. I loved the movie actually. And especially, the mindless dancing on the streets! Haha!"

"Sorry to break you two off, but Josh, you do know that you're late and have a class to attend right? Hey Mrs. Wilson!! Can you please take Josh here to his classroom and mention all the daily protocols too? Thank you." He motioned to a nicely-dressed lady in pink. "Sure, come with me, Josh", she said.

"Enjoy your first day of college! Well, just so you know, guys like Pete deserve all the slaps in the world, because they can't keep their pants in check." Mrs. Smith shouted.

"Well, everyone needs a hobby." I said loudly.

"So what's yours?" She asked.

I paused for a while with Mrs. Wilson.

"Resurrection".