Not You Please ✔️(Preview)

Bad Blood

Chapter 8

Mishti

"Dear children, faculty, and staff members, I, the Principal of Delhi International School, am ecstatic to announce that I have decided to get married to your Vice-Principal, Ms. Dubey. I cannot live without her and thus we are eloping. And that means school is over for today. Hurray!"

"You're kidding?" I watch Saahil's face for a sign that he's lying. "This didn't actually happen at your previous school."

It's lunch break and Saahil is telling me stories of the school he attended before. I suspect they're more fiction than real.

Saahil says with a straight face, "It did, and the best part is that school authorities could never catch the guy who hacked the PA system. The school was in such chaos, it took the rest of the school day to get students inside the classroom. The principal was too embarrassed to show his face for the rest of the week."

"Was it true? About the principal and vice-principal?"

"Yes, it was. Everybody knew about their affair. They got married three months later. Maybe they just needed a push," Saahil says, picking a piece of cucumber from my plate.

"I cannot believe how bold kids can be. Weren't they scared they'd get in trouble?" I say, shaking my head.

"What's fear, Mist? It's all in the mind." The bane of my existence picks up a chair, turns it around, and plants himself on it.

Before I could answer him, he diverts his attention to Saahil. "Hi, I'm Vikram Sethi. Your partner for the English project. I thought it was high time I introduced myself."

"Hello, I'm Saahil Mahajan. You would think I don't know you, but you would be wrong." Saahil takes Vikram's hand in a firm grip and smiles, looking at me. Die, Saahil.

Vikram's face twists in a grimace. He shakes his head, looking back at me. "Coming from my nemesis, it can't be flattering. But I promise you, I'll change your mind."

"What are you doing here, Vikram?" I ask finally, not able to stomach his drama anymore.

"Mist, it's not fair that you hog all of Saahil's time and don't let him talk to anyone else. Are you two married already, or what?"

Saahil spits the water he had been drinking from his water bottle on the table, on his food.

My eyes lock with Vikram's in a staring contest. He's relaxed, his chin on his hands, which rest on the back of the chair he's sitting on. I want to wipe that smirk off his face. Who the hell does he think he is? He cannot just come into my life and disrupt it like that. I won't give him the satisfaction.

I give up first and rise from my chair. "He's all yours." I motion toward Saahil and proceed to leave.

He grabs my wrist. "Stay, Mist."

"Stop calling me that." I close my eyes, frustrated with him beyond reason.

"I would if you tell me why you hate me."

"Can you blame me?" Turning to him, I free my hand and stand with my knuckles on my waist.

"Relax Mishti, he's just having fun," Saahil the traitor says. "Don't react. He'll get bored and leave you alone."

"You wish, Saahil," Vikram says, turning his head to Saahil.

Saahil and I face Vikram.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I say.

"Saahil thinks he doesn't have competition when it comes to you. Do you really want to make it that easy for him?"

I turn red and can't look at Saahil. "No Vikram, it's only you who thinks I am easy. Is it the reason behind your sudden interest in me? Newsflash! I AM NOT IN THE MARKET."

This time, when I leave, I don't look back.

###

I'm not twelve anymore. I shouldn't have run. His goal was to humiliate me as it had been five years back. I had raced out of the lunchroom crying then. Not much has changed since then. I used to think losing weight would solve all my problems.

It's not easy being a fat twelve years old.

Even in seventh grade, when I was part of a group of five girls, I was never one of them. Once they ordered matching t-shirts for the group but not for me because they couldn't find my size. Or when we went to a cafe and I would order a brownie shake, one of them would ask, "Are you sure you want to have that? It's like five hundred calories."

Staying home, away from their subtle put-downs started becoming more appealing day by day. One day, they didn't invite me and, just like that, I was out of the loop.

Girls were still better. Boys were downright cruel. All they cared about was making their friends laugh and being the coolest in their group.

I had a crush on Vikram. Now that I think of it, I can't think of a single reason why I liked him. Maybe it was his crooked smile and long eyelashes. I had never talked to him but had heard that he wasn't exactly a nice boy. The lure of the bad boy escalated my attraction. One day, during lunch, he was sitting with his friends. I still have no idea if he knew about my feelings. I suspect he did. Why else would he single me out?

"Hey Mishti, come on, sit with us." I had never talked to any one of them. I was suspicious, but then Vikram said, "I really liked your poem 'Ants' in English class today. It was funny and deep. Where did you get the inspiration from?"

My lips curled in a shy smile at being appreciated. "When I was little I read a book 'Hey, Little Ant'. It's strange how some books stay with you." I took the only chair empty on their table.

There was a crackle, and I found myself on the lunchroom floor on my bottom. There was a burst of laughter. I refused to look at any one of them. Vikram got up from his seat. He gave me his hand to help me get up. He wasn't laughing. I took his hand.

"Oh Mishti, I am so sorry. I think we should complain to the school authorities about the sturdiness of these chairs. I read somewhere that can bear a hundred kilograms, but some of us need more support," Vikram said with a straight face.

I turned my face away to hide my tears and ran out of the lunchroom. At the door, I turned back and looked at them. Vikram was high-fiving his friends and laughing.

Later a friend told me that the chair was already broken. Vikram and his friends had assembled it to make it look like it was fine.

###

Hi readers, 

I know every one of us has had some traumatic incidences in high school. Sharing it invalidates their power to affect you. So if you want you can share it in the comment section of this story. 

And remember you are not alone.

Thanks for reading. 

Anu