■WATTPAD INDIA AWARDS 2019 WINNER■
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For the Delhi Tycoons' kids, life has always been too challenging, and it's no different for Arvika Deewan. It's not everyday that her divorced mother remarries another business man, and there...
Guilt. One of the rarest emotions I had felt in the last seven years, not that a ten year old could understand the meaning of this strange feeling that didn't discriminate. But when I did try to reason, I couldn't find any to feel that way for slapping Arnav last night.
But he clearly had had enough of me, since he hadn't made any effort for confrontations. On one hand, it had me relieved. His presence did not mock me since morning, but something in the back of my mind nagged me, making me feel that I was the one at fault. And so, it didn't surprise me when the chair next to me scraped out, Vansh filling its vacancy in the library.
None of us spoke for a few moments, I kept on fiddling with an old copy of And The Mountains Echoed and he unbuttoned his blazer to remove it.
And then, "It's quite obvious you guys had a fight."
"I'll be the mature one and admit I started it."
"Not surprising," he shrugged.
"But you don't see me sulking, do you?"
"Keep Quite, you two!" The old librarian's nasal voice screeched. I never understood why we needed to act like we were in a funeral, keeping quite and all those disciplinary actions. There do exist people who cannot read in silence.
"It's written on both of your faces, actually," he muttered, silent enough for the fat old librarian.
"It's just a normal fight," I tried to brush it off. "Siblings fight all the time, don't they?"
"So you accept Arnav as your brother now?"
My movements halted suddenly, caught up in the slip-up. After what seemed like a minute, I looked at him, "I never exactly denied the fact that he's my brother."
"And yet you were never overjoyed about it either."
I didn't reply, turning back to the Khaled Housseini novel. Vansh Mehra was more observant than I'd thought.
"I find it strange," he finally spoke after a few moments, "You reading a brother-sister story."
I leafed over to a new page, watching the strict, old librarian, before replying, "That's the least I can do to mingle your theories about me, Vansh Mehra."
When I looked up at him again, he was smirking. It was faint, but it was there. "You haven't even heard all my theories about you yet, Arvika Deewan."
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