❝ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔'𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 - 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒈𝒍𝒚. ❞
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Sometimes love doesn't knock on the right door. Sometimes it slips in through a misdial, a l...
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Author's POV-
Mira's brain? on fire!.
She stared at her phone again.
Still no official news from BCCI.
The biscuit factory? hahahaa
Her meme folder had doubled in the last two hours out of pure anxiety.
She had one ready that said:
"Me pretending not to care about the boy whose jersey number I lowkey memorized."
She sighed.
"Ugh. Just CALL HIM already!"
Meanwhile Arjun had returned to his home.
His ma and papa.
He was sitting With His Dad, Silent. His dad was watching TV, pretending not to be excited.
"They say you might make the squad," he said without looking away.
"Don't screw it up."
Classic Dad encouragement.
Arjun smiled faintly.
But inside, a part of him whispered:
What if Mira actually believed in me more than I did?
And that thought was oddly comforting.
Because if she believed—even behind her sarcasm and stubborn walls—it had to mean something.
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-
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Arjun was in the kitchen yapping with her mother when his phone rang.
It buzzed once.
Then twice.
"Arjun!! It's your coach... Jaldii aaajaa!" His dad said. Oh sorry shouted.
Arjun stared at the screen like it was a landmine.
"Coach Suryanath"
His chest tightened. His legs felt too weak to stand, but he forced himself up and stepped out onto the balcony, heart pounding against his ribs like a drumroll he didn't ask for.
He answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then:
"Congratulations, Arjun. You're in. India A. Official. Pack your bags, betaa."
1 minute later.... Her phone pinged.
From RotiBoy : "They called."
She stared at it. Blinked. Blinked again.
Then it came— Her smile. Wide. Fierce. A full-blown *face-breaking* kind of proud.
