Serious in Love ✔

11- "Let's get bored together. We'll be less bored that way."

But sometimes, just sometimes, my brother 'luck' decides to side with me.

Natasha stood up from her chair. “Sir, I have a doubt from the stats you've drawn. May I have your permission to come over there and ask?” she asked politely. The man or supposedly the lecturer for this seminar, gave her the green signal to go ahead. Everyone watched cautiously as she walked to the whiteboard, standing next to him and asked her doubts professionally. So far so good. She was nodding at whatever the sir was saying until she placed a hand at the side of the forehead and closed her eyes halfway. The lecturer was quick to notice.

“Is there a problem, miss?”

She leaned her head against the whiteboard, almost causing the lecturer to reach out to her, but stopped as she steadied herself. “My- my head sir. It's spinning—” then placed a hand over her mouth. “I think I'm going to vomit.”

The lecturer's face grew ashen but before he could try to help her out, I did the honors myself. After all, this was the most perfect opportunity. “Don't worry sir, I'll walk her out to the washroom,” I offered.

“And I'll take her to the nurse's office,” Irfan added, holding her right hand as I held her left. We surely looked like kidnappers right now.

Obviously the lecturer wasn't convinced. “I think one person will be enough, Mr... Ahmed,” he said while looking at the list of names written in a file on his desk.

“But sir, she—”

“I think I'm going to fall,” Natasha declared, her head shaking slowly, almost giving away but we held her. “Bwak!” she made a terrible gagging noise that freaked us all—

“Okay, okay, take her away...”

— Followed by a 'puft' chuckle from Irfan.

The lecturer was glaring at him through a policeman's eye. Irfan for once, was quick to defend. “Sorry sir, it was just unwanted gas.”

Unwanted gas? Before I could question his intellectual choice of words, he proved himself by letting out an actual, stinking fart, breaking the silence of the class as they broke into fits of laughter. Everyone except us three, who could only press our mouths to prevent from disclosing the act.

Natasha let out another gagging noise and without wasting another torturous second, we raced out of the room while dragging her. We continued walking towards God knows where until we spotted a lift as if it was our escape route from the Mario's castle. The world crashed down behind the elevator doors as we fell down to the floor, laughing hard.

Now our escape plan was total success but that wasn't why were laughing, hell no! It had something to do with a term unwanted gas and the person associated with it.

“H- how Irfan?” I managed to spat while still gripping my stomach.

He stood up panting. “Come on, guys— with the amount of food I consume, isn't it obvious? Well, I had to save my arse so I air- pooped my arse. I'm ever- fart- ready,” he stated proudly like he won an award then proved his statement by air pooping again a few seconds later.

At that, Natasha and I laughed even louder, “Oh God, I can't breathe,” she fanned herself. “That was a cool plan, Baweja. Wish I could have thought of it before but thanks for getting us out of that bore-zone. And you, my Irfan, you deserve an reward.”