It's not that I'm an introvert. It's just that.....talking with people of the opposite gender isn't my cup of tea.
Anyway, I prefer coffee.
I know talking in a moving vehicle helps with motion sickness, and reading makes it far worse. But why face reality when you can indulge in escapism through fantasy?
I'm two months into my new school. It's everything I thought it would be-cliché.
My philosophic thoughts are suddenly interrupted. Interrupted by Advika, my friend.
Advika is far shorter than I am, with fair skin, a straight nose, and a penchant for company.
It would be an understatement to say we are comparable.
"Have you done the homework for Science?" She asks me.
"We had homework????" I ask.
Shit, I'm cooked.
"Question 6 to 9," She replies.
"Goddammit," I curse, "ANYA! HOMEWORK KIYA HAI KYA?" (Translation- "Anya, have you done the homework?")
Startled, a girl with a wheatish complexion and weird straight hair looks over, "Yeah, I did it." She tosses a notebook to me.
I'm nearly done copying it when the bell rings.
Fuck. We have drama.
Students begin streaming in. There's Reva, who is painfully thin, a bunch of boys, and....Arin.
I take out my script of "Aryabhatta", a play we are doing in honour of the great intellectual of Aryavrat.
I am a goddam priest, whereas Advika is Aryabhatta himself, even though she is a girl.
Advika leaves soon for her part as it's quite important. I lapse into conversation with the students from 8B, and we decide to have a game of Truth or Dare.
Naturally, it lands on Reva.
"Truth or Dare?" asks Arin.
"Truth," she replies.
He scratches his chin, as if he's racking his brains.
A boy beside him lights up and says, "Who is your crush?"
Before Reva can respond, I laugh. Because this is surely the stupidest truth I've ever heard.
They give me a twisted look before turning back to her.
"UHMM, no one." She says.
"See?" I ask. "I have a better question-if you could save any boy from death, who would it be?"
"Maybe Shayan?" She says, before thinking. Then, she gasps, as if she's unintentionally revealed something.
I smirk at the boys. I am far superior.
Laughing, I say, "See, peasants? That's how it's done. Cowers, you inferiors, cower!"
Arin and his friend, whose name is apparently Samik, roll their eyes and continue. Samik is clearly an amateur, while Arin-he plays like he's done it before.
Don't ask what, though.
The in-charge calls us, as our part is in the same scene.
As usual, I say my dialogue with too much emotion, but in a hilarious accent.
Now, I'm assuming the teacher had a bad day. Maybe that's why she lashed out. Or perhaps she just doesn't like me.
Who cares?
At the end of the day, my voice box hurts from talking, and my brain hurts from existing. I wonder if the others feel as drained as I do?
I reach my bus and throw my bag on the seat. Today is the shittiest day I've ever had. First, the drama in charge lashed out and then humiliated me in front of everyone. To make matters worse, I have my period. And now, I think I see another problem looming ahead-my book ending before the ride does.
In two months, I've gotten the hang of travelling by bus. In the morning, I lapse in and out of sleep while reading, and the afternoon rides are devoted to partially completing my homework and reading. In this manner, I have more time at home to play and laze around.
The others enter the bus, and I immerse myself in Wings of Fire.
We're not even twenty minutes in when my book suddenly finishes.
Ok, maybe suddenly is an exaggeration. It was halfway over in the morning.
My bad.
"Damnit", I curse. The rational part of my brain doesn't care that there are people here, teachers here.
Startled, Arin and the other boy give me a look.
"What? Don't look at me like that!" I attempt to defend myself.
"Wait, who do you play again in the skit?" Arin asks, pointing at me.
"An effing priest," I reply.
"Me too bro, me too," He says.
"How do you stand her as a class teacher? I mean, that bitch Anya can forget the sequence, and nothing happens, and I mess up one dialogue, and she goes full dino-mode on me?" I say, my tone laced with anger.
I continue my rant, finally stopping to chug some water.
"Chill," Arin say simply.
I give him a baffled look.
"Who's your favourite teacher by the way?" I ask nonchalantly.
"Mmm, Vishal sir, I guess." He replies.
"Mine is Anjani ma'am!" A cheerful voice adds.
The speaker is the dark-skinned seventh grader.
"What's your name again?" I ask him the younger one.
"Avinash," He replies.
I randomly interrogate them on their preferences. Psychology says that people love talking about themselves.
Am I the only one who does not?
Because the questions keep coming back to me from him, and I keep deflecting.
A/N
Yaay! Two whole chapters! BTW, I forgot to mention that my English is mediocre at best, since it's my third language. Hence, kindly forgive me for my stupid mistakes.
135Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl4ZbDfKD3D
and then Add to home screen.