||CHAPTER 49||
《¤》
"I just saw an instagram story," she said.
"And I'm having pasta for dinner," I replied, with my phone pressed to my ear, "what's your point?"
"Duffer," Ishita said, "I meant as in Vansh Mehra's instagram story, where he, my friend, is sporting a pink moustache and has tagged you. I am impressed."
Internally, I was smiling because of that picure since morning, because of obvious reasons. On the outside, with Arnav sitting opposite me and Ratan Kaka serving us some Italian delicacy for dinner, my expression was quite well trained to hide the obvious.
"Well," I shrugged, "not that I like your face, but I can do that make-up free of cost for you, if you're so impressed."
"Saamne koi baitha hai kya?" She decoded, and I looked at Arnav who was busy gobbling up the pasta.
"The disgusting excuse of a brother?" I shrugged, receiving a dirty look from the person in question. "Anyways, I guess I will see you on Monday? I don't like you very much."
"Vickey, trust me, agar mere jigar me dil hota," she heaved a sigh, "Then ab taq toot chuka hota. But yeah, love you too."
I placed my phone on the table, eyeing my dinner. I had never been a fan of pasta.
"Kya hua?" Arnav had seen me grimacing.
"Kuchh nahi," I shrugged. "I just... I'm not hungry."
He shook his head, reaching over to take my plate of pasta. "Ratan kaka, fridge me aaj dopahar ki fried rice hogi. Is maharani ko garam karke dijiye na, please."
I let out a sheepish smile as Ratan kaka disappeared inside the kitchen. "Aap tho bade dildaar banne lage ho."
Pointing his fork at me, with a mouthful of pasta and white sauce dripping from the corner of his lips, he managed to say, "Just because I cannot live to witness the wastage of pasta."
I grimaced again, "Muh band karke khaya kar. You're disgusting."
And to my agony, he just did the opposite.
I rolled my eyes at him while Ratan kaka brought me my replenished dinner. "I have no idea why flocks of girls are crazy about you."
He swallowed before grinning, "Because, I am gorgeous?"
"In the book of opposites? Definitely!"
He forked the pastas aggressively, narrowing his eyes at me.
The rest of the dinner passed in silence until his phone rang. I didn't miss the way his gaze flickered between his screen and me, before he decided to receive the call. "Uhm, excuse me."
Not giving much thought into it, I finished my dinner.
¿¤?
Monday morning- excuse the ridiculous alliteration- started with the Mathematics bomb. Our Maths Sir was a bit too enthusiastic when he came to know that Mrs. Negi was absent, yet again, and jumped at the opportunity of diving into two long antagonizing hours of Permutation and Combination.
"Okay, Karan," he called out, "On your birthday, you order your three servants to invite five of of your friends. What are the combinations?"
"None," Ritwik snickered. "He had a failed suprise party."
The rest of the class, obviously having heard the joke, laughed, much to Mr. Pawar's dismay. "Okay, I know it's funny for Karan to have servants, but keep it down alright?"
The class howled even more at his misunderstanding, letting him think that his sense of humour had set a benchmark.
"Back to the question," he cleared his throat. "Karan?"
"Uhm... fifteen?"
"I think you're servants would be as dumb as you if they invite each guest thrice," he scoffed, "Sit down."
Mr. Pawar started scribbling nonsensical letters having subscripts and superscripts on the board, making the whole chapter reach another level of what the hell is this kind of English.
"Bro," I whispered to Ishita, "Chemistry me Maths, chalo jhel liya. Ab Math me bhi chemistry? Is C ka kabse atomic number aane laga?"
Ishita shared my pain. "I am so going to fail eleventh. Ye hai kya?"
"Something troubling you Ms. Deewan and Ms. Gupta?"
At this pace, going out of the class was way better than even trying to understand the Greek he had painted on the green board.
"You need to change your seats. Vansh and Ishita, exchange."
Ishita and I shared secret gleaming smiles. Unknowingly, he had just done something that didn't punish us.
At my sudden re-energisation, I was aware of the every single moment he looked at me from the corner of his eyes. I wanted to smirk, but something stopped me. I wasn't falling for him, I knew it was named attraction, but hell if this wasn't the intense one.
¿¤?
"Should we confront him?" Vansh asked me during the break.
Following his line of gaze, my eyes landed on Karan talking to Mr. Gaur.
Now, this was the hazy dimension, one we didn't know how to tread around, or across.
"Would you like to risk... your friendship?"
"We did that the moment we met Mickey, Vika. And... we don't know what his reaction would be, right?"
I closed my eyes before squeezing his palm. "This isn't the right place for that experiment, Vansh."
I opened my eyes, watching the interaction between Mr. Gaur and Karan. Sometimes, I wondered if Karan knew about the truth. Sometimes I wondered how he was able to hide this whirlwind of emotions.
Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I wasn't so sinister.
"You're right."
"I'm a bad person Vansh," I whispered. "And I don't need your pity. I scrounge for black gold, so let me do the dirty work. Tum apni dosti line pe mat rakho... Just forget about all this."
"The fact that you don't want me to suffer is testimony to you not being a bad person."
Our friends were in the mess hall for lunch, while Vansh and I were busy spying Karan Bahl. Weren't all of us puppeteering our own demise?
"But I came in volunteering, so I am not backing out. On the contrary..."
I raised my eyebrows at him, questioningly, "On the contrary?"
"I think... we should help him."
I didn't ask him what he meant, and he didn't elaborate either.
"We should probably go have our lunch."
He nodded, accompanying me to the canteen.
¿¤?
The last week of September was not exactly eventful. The Deewan business was back on proper track, and our studies had been piling up to set our minds into frenzy.
But there had been subtle changes in Arnav, I had noticed. There were times he wanted to spill something, but stopped himself. There were times when he kept on glancing at his phone, but then switched it off. There were times when at two 'o' clock in the dark mornings, he would slide into my room to sleep beside me.
Today, I hadn't realised when he had come in, so it wasn't exactly natural to find my covers hogged by my brother.
"Arnav," I complained, shaking him. "Wake up!"
He turned around, winding the sheets around him, snoring slightly.
Sighing at his sleeping form, I decided to let him sleep the day out while I got ready for school.
During breakfast, Dad raised his eyebrows. "Arnav school nahi jaa raha?"
"Papa... woh tired hai. It would be better if he skipped today anyway, waise bhi aaj zyada kuchh nahi hone wala hai. Annual function ki practice chal rahi hai na."
"Is he ill?" He lowered the newspaper.
Considering the past few days, it won't be suprising if he was. "No... but I've kept some Crocin on the bedside table."
He nodded, resuming his work.
At school, it was a boring day- not like school was interesting on any specific day. Hence, I was taken aback when Armaan Qureshi asked if I was alright during break.
I scoffed. "Why won't I be?"
He shrugged. "Not to intrude or something... but you look worried. Arnav is absent, and he looks pretty tensed nowadays."
"I've noticed that too... Pata nahi kyoo... ajeeb lag raha hai. As if he is hiding something- and he wants to let it off his chest, but is unable to?"
"Don't worry Arvika, we are teenagers, we pretend that every small thing is a life-threatening change. Maybe you're reading too much into it."
But I wasn't. At 4 p.m., when I was back home, and Daadi in my room nursing Arnav, who still hadn't left my bed, I was slightly more than worried.
"Arnav?" I entered my room, in my uniform and socks, placing the back of my hand on his forehead. "Daadi, ise tho bukhaar hai!"
"Changing weather ke wajeh se hoga," she explained, feeding him small spoonfuls of rice with butter and some salt. It was the sick food no one hated. It was the be-calm-food.
I hesitated before asking, "Mamma ko pata hai kya?"
Arnav groaned in response while Daadi huffed. "Binoy ne bola hoga. Par abhi tak Maanyata ko koi call nahi aya hai."
"Guys, chill," he spoke in a hoarse voice, "Kal subah taq ttheek ho jaunga."
His phone rang from his room before I could reprimand him. "I'll get it, might be Vansh."
"Tell him I'm okay, not dying. He's not getting my PSPs."
Shaking my head, I went into his room, and answered the call without checking the Caller ID.
"He says he's not dying and you're not getting his PSPs."
And that, probably, was the best mistake I had made so far.
"Good thing I'm not interested in his PSPs then. Anyways, Hello Arvika. Long time no see?"
_____
Namoshtaii!
I know this started as a filler-kinda chapter, but if u have made it this far, m sure u know nothing is unnecessary in this story ;P
So my Diwali Vacation has officially begun, and so I am going to try to update everyday or every other day. I'm hoping I'm able to carry out either of them, but I have got loads of projects and homework, and studies to do. That is the hectic stuff. Anyways, please stay tuned atleast until next Monday, because I'm definitely going to be around till then.
Friday I asked you about what you think would be the climac of DJH, and I loved Sanya Goel's interpretation the best. To be fair, some of u did go w the idea of Arvika going solo, and I'm happy u guys are thinking in a different way. It's refreshing, you guys are the best.
So I was thinking if Zoya Abbas would fit the character of Ishita Gupta. She is a 14 y/o vlogger on Youtube, and ik ik she is too young, and her videos aren't even something remotely close to the DJH theme, but I think for being a teenager, she is too enthusiastic and positive. Just like Ishita. Three yrs ago, I wasn't like that. And it's refreshing to find a teen who isn't grumpy. So go, check her out if you don't know her already, stalk her instagram or youtube, and tell me whatcha think :)
(Also we are thirty votes from 2k, so let's just make it happen, yeah?)
Lmao, read, vote, comment and promote!
~emcee.