2: You Think That's the Girl?

978 98 92
                                    

Jiya

"Listen! Eat properly during your break, take everything you need, and don't hesitate to say hello to people!" my mother ranted - for the 26th time - while pacing around the flat.

Seeing her nervous was making me nervous, like a contagion. Before she opened her mouth to repeat her speech once again, I crashed her into a hug. "Ma!! It's okay. I think I'll survive."

Yep. The day I never wanted has now come. First day of being a new student...a new student joining in the middle of the year...a new student--

"One more thing!" she started. "I know this is a new generation and all..."

Her odd tone suddenly drew me into curiosity.

"What I mean to say is...it's perfectly fine if there's interaction between boys and girls. But..."

My eyes widened finally understanding her words. "Ma, I get it!! No talking to boys."

"Arey that's not what I'm saying, Jiya beta. Go talk, nobody is stopping you. I'm just saying, um, be cautious of your surroundings."

This talk wasn't something I was new to. Ma's "inspirational" talks about loving yourself first and my best friend's late night calls about some past with a boy, simply just defaulted my mind to 'uninterested'. Basically, I never approached any boys unless they approached me first. And the very few that did in my previous school, only begged me to finish their assignments last minute. Which I clearly said "no" to.

Before heading out the door, I stopped to look in the mirror one time. Something I rarely did. An average height, dark brown eyed girl, dressed in a simple kurta stared back. Her face didn't fail to hide any emotion.

To the rest of the world, I'm just like this reflection: simple, nerdy, reserved, insecure. And maybe...I am. But only I, myself, know what my secrets, capabilities, and joys are. I don't need to care about what others think.

And I plan to keep it that way.

~~

Vihaan  

"Fifty-three times ninety. Four thousand, seven hundred, seventy. Divided..." I mumbled, more to myself than to the rest of the gang. My fingers scribbled calculations effortlessly on the paper.

It was pretty early in the morning, before class even started.

Finishing my free-style calculations, I finally slammed the pencil down on the desk, and stretched out my neck. Hearing the silence, I looked around the table to see the disgusted looks on their faces.

"What?"

Nobody replied, continuing their accusing stares.
"It's not even cold. How did you all freeze to death?"

Vicky decided to speak up. "Who in the world...WOULD DO MATH FOR FUN?!"

"YEAH!" Jay spoke up. "Like quit the geekiness dude. Embrace your football stardom."

"Forget that! What does this have to do with this?" Rishi held up my freshly scratched paper and the course textbook. "WE are in an MBA course!"

I shrugged. "Okay then, let's discuss the risk dynamics of assets over time under--"

"SHUT UP! I'll touch your feet, just please!" Vicky hollered, making everyone in the whole canteen turn towards us.

"Dude sit down, everyone's looking!" Rishi pestered. 

"Do I look like I care? Girls are staring everyday, juniors walk by asking for a selfie--"

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