With Mangoes And Chocolates | ✓

21. Two words.

It's crazy how much we love our school(s) even though all it's ever done to us is torture. 

I figured that teenagers are way too naive, especially GenZ. We forgive, forget and move on after getting awarded with bare minimum treatment. 

I hadn't realized how quickly the last day of tenth grade had approached me. The news had me breaking down twice every day, for the last week.

It wasn't technically the last day, only the last working day, because we would once again be called to receive our admit cards, and for the Boards, of course. But still, man?

I walked through the beige corridor, reading all the posters on the walls for the zillionth time, noticing the thin layer of dust covering them. They hadn't been changed, for like, two months.

Even though we'd been seeing each other every day for the past week, me and Bhavuk hardly got to ever share a conversation properly. Exam pressure was extremely high, and the academic toppers were marked with bright neon highlighters. We weren't allowed to exit the school building without giving a minimum of twenty-one tests (yes, I did count it). 

My phone got taken away, which deceased any kind of internet communication we could've had all these days. I didn't even want to express my frustration now.

The moment I entered inside the classroom, my eyes searched for familiar faces. I stopped when I found Nitya in conversation with Kartik, Arav and Bhavuk. It wasn't the first time. Her hair was longer than mine (I wondered if they were healthier too?) and perfect teeth. I didn't even know what my teeth looked like. Her art, as far as I'd heard, was exceptionally great—I didn't know about the academics though.

I had zero—zero reasons to dislike her and yet I did. If someone asked me why, I wouldn't be able to explain. 

I kept down my stuff silently on the first bench I saw, and walked out of the class before anyone could notice. I'd get back to Bhavuk later, but first I needed to inquire about these biology questions from the teacher. . .

Already a few students were waiting before the staff room for their own queries so I stood as politely and patiently as I could. 

"Stressed?" I turned ninety degrees right to find Vihaan beside me. Looking at the mathematics book in his hand, but definitely talking to me.
"I didn't know my facial expressions were that obvious."
"Trust me, stress is in the air. It's a common feeling for all of us, currently."

"It's freaking me out."
"I can see," he looked up at me. "You didn't sleep last night, did you?"

"I was up. . .reading."

"Let me guess: Physics?"
"No. Book as in, fictional book."

"Exams around the corner and instead of textbooks, you read fiction," he sighed. "That's the kind of passion I rarely see."

"It isn't passion, it's called giving into temptation and making stupid decisions. Books can wait. Time doesn't. It was a good one though. . ." I trailed off. "Do you like reading?"

"I mean," he gazed down at his shoes and then back at me. "Not really. . .more of a Netflix person than a book person. Are you going to hate me now?"

My face broke into a grin. "You really think I'm a narcissist, huh? Just because someone enjoys something different from me, doesn't mean I don't accept them. Though I would appreciate it if you could read some more."

"Oh, and that reminds me that," he shut the book and paid me his undivided attention. "There's this book event held on fourteenth. I thought maybe you'd like to. . .go?"