With Mangoes And Chocolates | ✓

4. Mutual.

~ Bhavuk ~

"She called me two-faced."
"Yes, and then you called her a crybaby, and then you told her shit and it was terrible. You've already narrated all of this, Bhavuk." Arav told me, not even caring to glance up from whatever he was reading.

"So?" I asked with disbelief. "I am not two-faced. Everyone knows that."

Kartik at least looked back at me. He sighed. "Honestly, you do behave like that," he said, "you're volatile. You are being mean to her, and then being nice to her. She doesn't trust you."

"She's super sensitive!" I defended myself. "I don't understand it."

"Then why do you get near her?"
"I don't."
"Think more."

I gazed at the green field in front of the school. There were students roaming leisurely. The sun wasn't there. It was cloudy. The building was painted in yellow and green, giving off earthy vibes. It looked kinda cool.

"So?" Arav enquired again. "Is she intriguing?"

🧩

~ Manasvi ~

I had to get a book from library today. Weekend was nearing, and I really wanted to read Frankenstein. 

I entered through the doorway. The sight of hundreds of books in front me made me feel warm. I smiled at the librarian, and she returned the expression.

At the very end corner of the room, Bhavuk was sitting on one of the benches. He wasn't alone, there were like. . . half a dozen boys with him. I'd never talked to those many girls at once, let alone sit with such a big friend circle. I know it's just his outer charisma. Had people known his deceitful self, things would've been different. That's the catch here—people are blind.

My fingers glided over the slippery spine of the books. They were newly arrived. I spotted a lot of Agatha Christie's and Sudha Murthy's. The section was diverse, yet to be arranged into categories. The fragrance was kind of woody, and to some extent delicious; the way books usually smell. I fixed my grip over Frankenstein, but before I could pick it out, thin, little fingers were already resting over it.

It was a kid. He had spectacles on. He was skinny, and very adorable. "You wanna read it?"
"You can if you want to." He shrugged.
"I can wait." I wiggled my eyebrows, to which he smiled, showing his shiny braces. "New braces, huh?"
"Yeah. My parents tricked me into it."
That made me chuckle. "They did it right. You look amazing."

"I probably look terrible," he pursed lips.
"Did anyone at school tell you that?" I frowned.

"He did," he pointed straight at Bhavuk. "He called me rattling train tracks . . and well. ." He trailed off. I knew whatever else was done, wasn't pretty, anyway.

I didn't know what to tell him. He was a fifth grader, for God's sake. As much as I loved my school, I hated how idiotic one becomes as they move to higher grades. I wasn't surprised to know Bhavuk was one of them.

I've had enough encounters with him to understand that whatever he does is for his own means. I know because so do I. But my selfishness goes to an extent, his doesn't. I don't know how or from where he got the idea about me having trouble to maintain 'ideal' relationship with my parents. Nobody knows a thing except Ishita. She wouldn't say. He's just fudging assuming.

Whatever the reason, it shook the heck out of me when he mentioned that. Last thing I want is him pressing on my weak points.

Him bullying other people wasn't my problem. I wouldn't have wanted to meddle, but a small part of me suffering from savior syndrome, wanted to shake him up.