Malice in Marble

Chapter 1: The Immobile Shelf

My focus keeps fading away. I feel like a millennium has passed since I began practicing these chapters of Math. No wonder I hate Trigonometry: it's the most difficult part of my most despised and loathed subject. The identities feel like a labyrinth with no exit.

Again, who is going to sit down and revise such chapters, if it's not me? I definitely can't expect Aryaveer to be studying this. Had he done so, the very laws of nature would have changed. I don't need to nag him, though I never really do. It's not nagging; it's always a gentle reminder, which is extremely rare. (OK, not so rare.)

Aryaveer is my cousin, who is just three months younger than me and poles apart. I really feel that if there were two people in the world to be antonymous, it would be me and him. I can imagine a teacher calling out to her students: "Big-Small, Pretty-Ugly, Abhimanyu-Aryaveer..."

We are having our Maths exam tomorrow, and it's really important. Well, I'm definitely getting a top grade. There's no way I ain't succeeding, after all the study in this evening. Part of me wants to play chess or listen to music, but I know better. Of course I do.

The lights in the room suddenly snap off—Aryaveer’s signature move to signal his arrival—and almost immediately, a huge body lands on the left side of the bed.

"You're back from the match, Veeru. Who won?"

"Our team didn't. We lost seven to four."

I don't know if I should be happy or sad. In the end, I choose not to express any emotion and let him imagine for himself what I feel.

"Hope you're prepared for tomorrow's exam?"

"I am."

"Oh, right, sir. And when did you secure the time to study?"

"You did."

"I know I did. I'm asking about you."

His tone becomes matter-of-fact as he straightens up to a sitting position.

"Stop being innocent. Just let me copy. I'm happy with a fifty."

"I'm not. You know pretty well where we are. Do you think anybody else will accept it in this house if you score fifty?"

"Well, I'll have you as a partner. You're responsible for me."

My heart sinks. Yes, it's true. Being the eldest among all the children in the house, I'm sort of their third parent. Especially for Veeru. If he does something wrong, or anybody else does, I'm answerable. All elder siblings must keep an eye on all the younger ones.

"This is why I asked you to study."

"You did it for me. If you're having the issue, no worries. We're grounded together."

"OK. One last time."

"Only when the 'last times' really end," snorts Aryaveer.

"But if we are caught—"

"I swear I'll take the blame. I won't let you go punished."

Woah, that's a bit rich from him. Not after him trying to explain how badly I swear in school, except that he can't tell which word I used without using them himself or giving away he knows what they mean.

"Thanks for the mercy," I answer sarcastically.

With no "you're welcomes," he lies down and immediately dozes off. Well, I don't blame him for being exhausted or disinterested. I mean, I am also thinking the same. Still, it's not my nature to skip something and then seek help. Again, we're different.

I need a book on Algebra right now to clear my head. And we have a place for that: our home library.
I don't feel like leaving my comfortable chair to walk what feels like a mile to the library. Yes, our ornate mansion sometimes feels like a football ground. And the world's greatest footballer is snoring on my bed, whom I feel like waking up before deciding otherwise. No.