Shubman woke up the next morning snuggled in Virat bhai's arms with a splitting headache under the most bizarre circumstances.
"Get up, you two!"
It was Rohit bhai's voice.
Rohit bhai waking them up.
The world had turned on its head. The World Cup must be what was responsible....
Then Shubman remembered what had happened after the joy of winning the WC. The bottom fell off from his stomach.
"You've come to wake us up, Ro?" Virat bhai stirred and woke up, and gave Shubman a squeeze. "Feel better today?"
"No," said Shubman. The awful pressure at the back of his eyes was back, combining with the exploding headache.
"Aw, Shubi, come on....how come you're awake, Ro?" asked Virat.
"Ishan was banging around so loudly in my room, I didn't have a choice," said Rohit. "And that reminds me, he's refusing to say what happened, so maybe you can throw some light, Shubi?"
"No, Rohit bhai, I can't," said Shubman desperately.
"I don't see why you're getting like this, Shubi, can't you just go and talk to him?" said Virat bhai.
"He won't talk to me," said Shubman.
Rohit nodded. "He probably won't, at this moment."
The confirmation only made Shubman feel worse.
"But I'm working on it," Rohit promised. "He's every bit as upset as you, so I'm hoping he will give in to talking with you real soon."
Shubman didn't share in his faith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone groaned and complained as they gobbled down a bit of breakfast and rushed through their packing to avoid missing the flight to Delhi. The BCCI head office was going to decorate their shelves with the World Cup that evening, which was necessary, but nobody could understand why they couldn't have given them a single day to get over the hangover.
It was also turning out to the very worst day of Shubman's life, because Ishan went around with his headphones stuffed firmly in his ears. He did not look upset like Rohit bhai had described. And he did not look at Shubman even once.
And Shubman was scared.
Till yesterday, he would have died laughing at the idea of him being scared to go and talk to Ishan. Today, in spite of knowing he had to do it, and wanting to do it, every time he took a step towards Ishan, he felt cold with fear.
How could he be scared of Ishan?
What was the worst Ishan could do?
Shout at him? Refuse to talk to him? Refuse to look at him?
The last possibility sent chills down his body.
What if Ishan refused to look at him ever again?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the airport, Shubman screwed up every bit of courage he had to walk up to Ishan. Ishan looked forbidding. His headphones were still on.
"Ishan," Shubman began. His voice came out small and shaky.
Ishan firmly kept looking down. Possibly he couldn't hear through the headphones, Shubman told himself hopefully.
"Ishan," he said in a louder voice. "Will you please take that off and listen to me for a bit? ISHAN?"
This time Ishan could not have failed to hear him, because Shreyas, who also had his headphones on and usually had the volume turned right up, and was sitting four seats away, heard.
"What?" Shreyas motioned at Shubman.
Shubman shook his head, very conscious of how everyone around was looking at the pair of them.
"Ish, you know you can't ignore me forever, right? Just hear me out once....or damn it, look at me once."
Ishan balled his fists. And did not look up.
"If you won't listen the normal way...." Shubman yanked at his headphones.
Ishan flinched back at the touch, like he had been burnt. Like he was physically hurt.
Suddenly Shubman felt like he had been burnt, too.
No, that would have been easier.
Being burnt would have been easier than seeing Ishan flinching away from him like his touch was poison.
Shubman fled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was no change in Ishan's stance over the whole ceremony in Delhi.
In spite of their teams' continuous efforts to get their minds off it, Ishan lurked in the corner of the hall with his headphones still on and Shubman paced back and forth, desperately trying to think of a solution to this disaster. He kept looking at Ishan, hoping just that his friend would look back at him once, but he did not.
I have to persist, he said to himself. If I keep pestering him, he's bound to open his mouth, even if to shout.
And again, he found himself desperately short of courage. The thought of Ishan giving him the cold shoulder again kept him back every time he started to walk in his direction.
He would take two steps. Stop. Come back again.
Two steps again. Stop. Back again.
Three steps. Good progress. Another. No. Go back. Go back.
"You're acting like a maniac," said Hardik.
"Thank you for your opinion!" said Shubman acidly.
Hardik raised his hands and backed off.
Two steps. Three. Four. Five...
"Hey Shubman!"
Startled, Shubman turned. It was Sara, smiling at him.
"How are you? Papa didn't allow to go into the party yesterday, so I never got the chance to say congratulations."
"What? Oh...for the....the World Cup, yeah...."
Sara's smile faded slightly.
"You don't look okay," she said. "Do you, um, want to talk?"
"No, it's all right," said Shubman. "Talking isn't going to help anything."
"Shit, did something happen?"
Shubman's eyes found Ishan again. "I'll-I'll see you later, Sara."
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps....
This time, he was finally standing in front of Ishan.
To his surprise, Ishan removed the headphones. Shubman preferred to focus on that and ignore the hostile look in Ishan's eyes.
"What happened to you now, blowing Sara off?" said Ishan bitterly. "Realized we're not all use and throw commodities in Shubman-and-Sara world, have you?"
"Ishan," pleaded Shubman. "I'm sorry, I've been trying to tell you since morning, I'm so, so sorry...."
"Too late," said Ishan. "Sorry isn't going to change anything."
"Well, it has to! Tell me what I can do to-"
"Undo it? Make us forget it? You know, I don't quite think that's possible."
"Don't be stupid," said Shubman impatiently. "We can't-"
"I hate you so much, Shubman," said Ishan in a strange voice, like he was realizing it himself. "I hate you so much it's like....like I've never hated anyone half of this in my life."
Shubman's head hurt.
"You don't hate me," he said. "You can't possibly hate me."
"Didn't you hate Sara for like two years even when she just turned you down nicely?"
The analogy made Shubman feel the colour leaving his face.
"That's different," he protested. "You and I are best friends, we're a lot closer than she and I ever could've been."
Ishan stuffed the headphones in his ears again and walked away.