-• mission •-
"Why do you think he didn't come to school today?"
Anagha and I are on the same track, but what she doesn't know is that, our reasons to seek the truth are different. She is still speculating about him being the prospective murderer, while I'm on a completely different tangent.
There are so many mysteries revolving him, it's not easy to believe he's a good person. And yet strangely, I still want to. Because some way or the other, my brother's name is associated with his. And I don't want to think my brother can be involved in shady things, or if I need to be blunt, then crimes, more precisely, a murder. There I said it.
Yuvraaj looks like an icy cold monster on the outside, as if nothing can faze him, and as Janet put it so meticulously, he's morally ambiguous. But despite evolving in shades of grey, he still has his own moments when the lighter, more brighter colors in him glow through the crevices. Like when he sprayed water on us through the hose, or when he was adamant on throwing me a huge birthday party, and the one that stood out the most, when he hugged me, even if for a few seconds, but he did.
I refuse to believe my brother would help a criminal. And that's the very reason I'm being so curious about this whole thing. All I'm trying to prove to myself is that no matter how many times Yuvraaj has shown how ruthlessly unaffected he is of the world, he would never dip his feet in anything that could ruin his reputation.
That's it.
"Maybe he's sick?" I shrug, jutting my lip lower out. I'm as clueless as her, and yet she still expects me to know everything.
"Do you think," she trails, piquing my curiosity as she leans in, then says the most ridiculous thing to ever exist. "He's out there murdering someone else?"
I scoff. "Anagha, he's not a serial killer."
She sighs. "I know. I'm just guessing."
"Don't," I gritted out. "Didn't we agree on forgetting about this?"
Her face turns sheepish, and I harden my glare, my face forming a look of disappointment. "Listen me out!" She justifies and sits down facing me, her upper body twisted in my direction. "I'm not saying he's the killer or anything. But c'mon, considering the things he has done, do you think we can put this past him? I just want to know if he did it or not-"
"And how do you think we find that? By asking him?" I deadpan sarcastically. "Do you want me to go to him and be like, Shourya, remember the murder case I asked you about two days ago, did you do it?"
"Wait," she frowns. "You asked him about it?"
I bite my lower lip in regret. Now she'll know I'm into this just as much as her. But unlike her, I'm also petrified of finding out the truth. On one hand, I want to know the secrets he's hiding, but at the same time, I want to run away from him as far as possible.
"What did he say?"
I shake my head.
"Tara!" She snaps, demanding a reply.
I rub a hand over my face, frustrated out of bounds. "What!?"
"Tell me!"
"Fine," I give in. "I asked him but he was clueless about it."
"Do you think he was lying?"
"How would I know?" I retort. "He sounded genuinely disinterested in the topic."
She leans back, lips pursed and eyes squinted in a thoughtful gesture. "I've a plan!" Her fingers click, a victorious smile growing on her face. I tilt my head, suspecting her excitement. Why do I have feeling that the main character of her master plan is going to be me? "Remember how obsessed he was with you prior the accident?"
"So?"
"So maybe, he still feels something for you?" She bobs her head expectantly, hoping I join the remaining dots. I feel lost. That elicits an irritated sigh from her, and she rolls her eyes. "Tara, I'm saying there's still a possibility he might have some feelings for you? Sort of a soft corner? Look, I don't have any way to go to him, or spy around him without looking suspicious. But you can! You spend two hours with him after school -"
"For extra lecture," I clarify.
"You're family friends -"
"Namesake."
"He was besotted by you -"
"Before the accident."
She grunts. "That doesn't matter! What matters is that you've a link connecting you both. I don't."
"Come to the point!"
"We work as a team, but individually."
For some reason, that makes sense, but not at the same time. An oxymoron.
"Explain," I demand.
"Trusting my genes, I'll work on trying to find as much as possible information regarding the victim and this case. While you'll focus on getting Shourya's alibi, like where he was that day, what did he do, and stuff like that. We'll figure out a way to cross check it."
I nibble on the inside of my cheek in contemplation. Her plan sounds effective and easy to hear, but only I know how difficult it is to speak to Shourya without wanting to blow up either ones head. I can't stand his obnoxious personality at all. Presently, there's more added to the list that I absolutely detest about him, the probability of him being the mystery man. If that turns out true, I'll seriously lose it.
"On it?" She forwards her hand.
I look down at it, still indecisive about the plan when she grabs my hand and slaps it on hers. "On it!" She confirms with a nod, squeezing my hand firmly.
I dismiss her when my brothers enter the class. Getting the signal, she walks away with a wink at me. I shake my head, focusing on the open book in front of me.
I sit through the remaining lectures trying to come up with a trick that would get Shourya to tell me his whereabouts of that night. Even if Anagha says he used to have feelings for me, if he's the mystery man, he'd rather stab his eyes than look at me with interest. After all, I'm not his type. I settle on first figuring out his identity. And I've an easy way to do that.
A wound that deep doesn't heal within a day. I can accidentally just pass him in the hallway and nudge him in the ribs, or try to get him wet so he'll be compelled to remove his shirt. Besides, he's always on the lookout to show off his washboard abs and masculine body.
Like that one evening when we were taken to the grounds for PE lecture after practically begging to the teacher, and were instructed to play away from the sprinklers. In the end, we failed to abide by one rule and the ball hit one, breaking it. It was sudden, and Shourya was closest to it when the water squirted out like a waterfall in his direction. He was drenched from head to toe before he could get away from it.
We were left gaping in awe when he deftly removed his tshirt, squeezed the water out of it before tossing the wet fabric over his shoulder. Then he raked a hand through his locks, ruffled them like he was in a shampoo ad, and walked away from there, all nonchalant to the eyes following him.
I blink the memory away, focusing on the teacher as she goes on and on about the theory of relativity.
School ends at four and I'm forced to go through the torture for another two hours, luckily without the asshole Rajawat this time.
Agastya drives us back home, intentionally keeping the speed below the 60 zone.
"Agastya," I call out.
He's focused on the road as he hums in response.
"What do you find attractive about girls?" I ask.
Agastya's head whips to my direction and the twins stop squabbling in the backseat, channeling their attention on us.
"What kind of question is that?" He frowns.
"I'm just asking," I shrug, having no other explanation to it.
"Why?"
"Merely curious to know how guys perceive us girls," I add pathetically.
His eyes squints before he looks back ahead, not answering me for a while. I almost accept he's not going to when he suddenly speaks up. "Unfortunately, most of them focus on looks and body than personality."
"I mean, if she has huge boobs, she's a smash for me!" Arush exclaims.
"Huge boobs?" My brows furrow together.
"Don't listen to them, Tara. There are genuine guys. Like this one time, I liked a girl, not because of her huge breasts or buttocks, but because she had this beautiful smile that I was so infatuated with." Ayush chimes in.
"Really?" I turn to him, happy to hear his answer was nothing sexual.
He nods.
"And you? What do you see?" I ask Agastya.
"Everything but her age," Ayush taunts.
I snicker because it's true. He throws us both a glare before focusing on the road. "I'm not a guy that girls dream of, and I admit that. I can't commit to one person. So why would I look deeper into something that's meant to be shallow from the beginning? But I don't lie to get them attracted to me. Whatever it is I want, I'm blunt with it." He states. "I'm superfluous when it comes to girls. If I like what's on the outside, you're welcomed for a two day stay."
"Ew," I say in pure disgust.
"When you grow up, and want someone genuine, guys like me are the ones you need to avoid." He shrugs.
"And you're proud about it?"
"I don't see an issue with it. I don't lie to anyone, don't force myself, don't pretend to be someone I'm not. I own what I am, and I make it clear what I want in the beginning. If they come to me with the hope of more, that's their problem."
He's right in his place. But I still feel bad for all the girls he broke the hearts of. "So from all the girls you've been with, none of them made you want to stay?"
He clicks his tongue.
"Not even one?"
"Not even one." He confirms.
"Are girls just timepass for you?" I ask softly, strangely offended with his perspective of my gender.
"Not all girls."
I gasp. "Who is it?" I lean in, touching his arm that's on the wheel out of excitement.
"You," he winks in my direction.
I smack my lips together in disapproval and slap his arm, sitting straight with my arms crossed on my chest. "Because I'm your sister."
"Exactly why you're different."
"So, imagine if a guy like you comes in my life. He has the same intention towards me as you've with the girls, would you understand him or-"
"I'd break his jaw."
"You're such a hypocrite!" I accuse. "And if the same thing happens to you? What if someone's brother comes to punch you in the face?"
"I'd punch him back because I know I was true about my intentions towards his sister from the start. So, it's on her, not me. But I'd also understand him." He nods.
"You baffle me," I shake my head in disbelief.
"I was just a playboy before you came into my life, Tara. Now I'm a big brother too. Even if I think of you when I'm discarding a woman out of my life, all I'll feel is this desperate need to protect you from men like me, not go to that woman and console her or even change my ways in future. I know it's hypocrite of me, but it is what it is." He says nonchalantly, unbothered about the whole conversation.
"Are you ever going to think of the opposite gender as more than just someone to bed?" I look at him with a grimace.
"Unless they turn out to be family, no." He says, definitely referring to me, and that makes the twins in the backseat laugh like a train.
"You're hopeless," I sigh and give up.
Night school turns out boring than before when we're forced to solve the practice papers. Next week, we'll be sitting for prelims before our final practicals start. I should be seriously focusing on my studies rather than the mystery man, Shourya and the possibility of him murdering someone. It's not that I'm getting a nobel prize for the research. All I'm doing is wasting my precious time.
The next day though, Shourya returns to school and the study pressure in my head evaporates, replaced with pure intrigue.
I seek every possible chance to touch him in the ribs, and the one time I get it is when I'm walking past his desk and accidentally trip, placing my hand on the left of his abdomen as if I'm trying to hold myself up. My eyes immediately lift, and I end up flabbergasted at the poker face he shows me, his brown eyes looking at me with a combination of boredom and frustration.
What the fuck?
Does it not hurt?
I press a little harder, and he immediately reacts, not in pain as I had expected, rather angrily because he throws off my hand so harsh I almost stumble aside.
"Do you not know indecent touching without consent is considered as sexual harrasment?" He snaps, fixing his crumpled hoodie.
All the heads turn to me. My twin brothers included.
I'm left stumped and humiliated. "In-Indecent? I just tripped!" I say loudly, hoping the justification reaches everyone's ears.
"Well then, unless you learn to walk properly, I suggest you use a wheelchair."
I gape in shock. "And unless you learn to speak properly, I suggest you stay mute."
"You expect I stay mute when you come onto me so abruptly, in a broad daylight?" He gets up, looking down at me in contempt.
I step back, intimidated by his height, but don't show it on my face. "I did not come onto you! I said I tripped! I held onto you for support!"
"When you speak of support, you think of something hard, solid and dependable. Like an arm, or a shoulder, or this," he rattles his chair. "The handrest. Not abs!"
I roll my eyes. "It was an instinctive reaction!"
"So your instinct is to cling to my abs when you fall?" He counters sarcastically.
Hearing the class laugh at his remark, I grow furious.
"Look here," I step closer and stare directly into his eyes. "Even if you were the last guy to walk on the face of the earth, I'd still not consider you as more than an eyesore."
"Is that so?" He places his hand on the desk, his body hunching forward, eating the remaining distance between us. I almost break my spine by bending backward in shock, desperate to get rid of the heated proximity. "Is that why you've been trying so hard to get close to me since this morning?"
I blink, stupified and embarrassed that he noticed. He steps back when I push him harshly on the chest, finally giving me space to breathe. "You sound delusional."
"And you sound like you were caught red handed." He smirks.
I clench my jaw, unable to come up with a retort. Thankfully, the bell signalling the end of short recess rings aloud.
"Fuck off," I say and walk back to my desk.
Seething, I occupy my seat, avoiding to watch him bask in his conceited attitude by glaring ahead at the board. No, this won't do. I can't find out his reality by resorting to such petty tricks. I've to plan something big.
Like....
Like throwing him off into a swimming pool.
That's the only way I can see him without a shirt.
With the devious strategy dominating my thoughts, I wait for the lunch break to come. If I know him even a little bit, he should be there during lunch break. He doesn't necessarily swim every day, sometimes he sits on the recliner and scrolls through his phone until the end of the break. I have no idea how he goes on without a grain in his stomach for the whole day and still manage to look so healthy and- and good looking, but he somehow does. Maybe he's the Cinderella of the house. Tormented and alone, but still a timeless beauty.
I practically rip myself from the seat the moment bell for lunch break echoes aloud. Anagha eyes me in confusion me when I excuse myself from their group, her face a chest of questions that I ignore and head out.
The swimming pool atrium is empty of all but one person. As expected, today he's seated on the recliner, with his earbuds plugged in and hood pulled over. I suck in a deep breath, trying to appear confident.
Fake it till you make it.
With a smile brimming of confidence, I saunter inside, the thump of my boots echoing through the high walls. It takes him a second to notice me, and when he does, he removes his ear buds, eyeing me in pure frustration.
"If I didn't know you personally, I'd have assumed you to be my stalker."
"Fortunately, you do. If I had to stalk someone, I'd consider them worthy of my attention." I drop my backpack on the recliner next to his.
"And yet here you are, talking to me." His arms bulge when he crosses them on his chest.
"Well, aren't you the lucky one?" I sit down, placing my hands flat on either side of me as I cross my legs and lean back.
"Do you need something from me, Esther?" He gets up and turns to face me, his knees an hairbreadth away from touching mine.
"What do you think you can possibly give me?" I counter.
"My absence?" He cocks a brow in my direction, then he leans back to grab his backpack and gets up from the recliner.
I panic, forcing myself to think quick. "This would be the last place I'd come searching for if I wanted that," I get up too, blocking his way.
He stops short realising the proximity we share and looks down, connecting those light brown eyes with mine. "What did I say about crossing your limits with me?"
"Do not cross them," I reply.
"And what exactly are you doing right now?" He drops the backpack and steps closer.
I step back automatically. "Crossing them."
"Why?" He moves closer.
I swallow and move back. "I like to live on the edge." I say, faking a casual shrug.
"Oh," he tilts his head to the side, "aren't you one bad girl?" My hands tremble to my side, whether to clutch his shirt to pull him closer or push him away is still a mystery to me, and I'd prefer if it stays that way.
"Are you flirting with me?"
He chuckles, dark and smoldering, like embers of a receding inferno, still as fatal and threatening. "If I was flirting with you, you'd be ruining your panties right now. Lucky for you, I don't chase immature girls."
"You behave so much like him," I blurt out.
He stops.
"Who?" He whispers and I step back, gasping when my foot slips on the edge of the pool and I'm propelled backward with an unmatched force. His eyes go wide, not having expected the turn of events and leans forward to grab my hand. But I take him down with me into the freezing cold water.
My legs kick helplessly and I flail like a fish out of water, the difference being I'm not a fish and I don't know how to swim. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush towards a strong built. I quickly toss my arms around his neck, locking them tightly so I don't slip by accident. Our faces inches away from being touched. He eyes me with such intensity that if it could be materialised, the temperature would be enough to boil the water.
"You're safe," he says, his warm breath caressing my trembling lips. Then he lowers me slowly and I find my feet touching the flat surface without feeling like the water was trying to drown me. "And you're such a nuisance, Esther," he grunts, roughly carrying me to the edge of the pool before forcing me out. I slide back and watch as he heaves himself out, not a frown on his face. I stare under his ribs and catch no possible hint that he's hurt or the wound is bleeding. He tosses the backpack over his shoulder and storms out of the atrium.
I sigh in defeat.
I know a bigger part of me was hoping that mystery man and Shourya doesn't turn out to be one person, because that would mean something terrible happened to real Shourya and I played a huge part in it.
And yet, I don't feel relieved.
The mystery man needs to reveal himself before the readers and Tara, both end up losing their sanity 💀
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.