Crossing The i's And Dotting The t's

(XXII) Confessions

I was confused.

Staring at the rapidly blinking screen of my laptop, I gulped. The list containing the names of all selected candidates didn't have mine in it. My stomach dropped. With shaky fingers, I typed my roll number in the search bar.

No results found.

"This can't be happening," I mumbled to myself, sounding on the verge of tears. Out of all reasons, a wrong roll number can't be responsible for my failure. In a desperate attempt to confirm what I just saw, I went to the website of my coaching centre, knowing that the names of all selected students who took their classes would be displayed there. They needed to advertise, after all. I scanned the ten names listed on the homepage.

Still no sign of mine.

An eerie numbness took over my senses as the reality hit me. I hadn't been able to crack NEET, hadn't even competed with other applicants.

All because of writing the wrong roll number.

I wanted to slap myself for being so careless. Two years worth of hard work had gone down the drain due to a minor mistake. I thought about my parents' reaction, my gloomy future prospects, the wetness on the corner of my mouth, Radhika's giggles and—

—wait what?

Jolting awake as I heard the firm snap of a camera, I sat up quickly, my back straight as a ramrod.

"You were mumbling in your sleep. I just couldn't not record it!" Radhika's voice, broken by annoying sniggers here and there, cut through the drowsy fog in my mind. It was similar to the cruel crack of a whip on a white pony's back.

Yes, I tended to think of morbid analogies whilst half-asleep.

"What time is it?" I rasped, wincing at the feel of paper-like dryness in my throat.

Moral of the story — do not sleep with your mouth open.

"Quarter to noon," she replied, sitting on the edge of my bed to tie the laces of her sneakers. "You should probably come down within thirty minutes if you actually want food for brunch and not just morsels of stale leftovers."

"Yeah yeah. Get out already." I yawned.

Still laughing to herself, she left the room, slamming the door behind her. I dragged myself out of the bed at a snail's pace, still a bit shaken from the nightmare. Naturally, the first thing I did was to confirm that my NEET roll number was correct.

Paranoid, I know.

A quick bucket bath later, I rushed downstairs to the dining hall, clad in a white shirt with floral patterns and blue denim shorts. Mounting my plate with sandwiches and idli—which was admittedly a bizarre combination—I sat down alone on a table of four.

For a while I was simply focusing on food, trying not to think about the mental imagery my subconscious had displayed to me. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a heavy glass was slammed next to my plate, making me nearly jump out of my skin. I calmed down moments later when Kian came into view, pulling a chair and sitting across from me.

"Good morning sweet chums!"

"Seriously? Sweet chums? You couldn't think of any other name?" I drawled as another massive yawn escaped from me. "And it's twelve-thirty."

"Good to know that you actually have a sense of time, sleeping ugly," he quipped, noisily sipping his tea.

"Ugly huh?"

"Very."

"Why are you here with me then?"

"I've nothing better to do, you're the only option." He shrugged, a smug smirk surfacing on his recently-shaved face.