With Mangoes And Chocolates | ✓

26. Oranges.

"I feel like it's a goal coming up," I said, my eyes on the screen and ears on the call.
"Nah. Got saved." I heard Arav mutter from the other end of the call.

Two in the night and the three of us were watching Barcelona versus Las Palmas. Well, technically, we were supposed to learn the concepts of integration, but football diverted us.

IPL during the daytime and football after midnight. It was the happiest time of the year. My life was happy. I was happy.

"As much as I want to continue, let's get back to mathematics," I put forth. "What say?"

The last time I had sacrificed my whole night for a match, it was thirteenth March. Two days before mathematics exam. It was Barcelona versus Napoli, probably one of the coolest stuff I'd witnessed on a screen. I lost two marks in mathematics, but I would never blame sports for it. It made the world worth breathing in. After Manasvi.

"If not this, I'd rather sleep. Can't study anymore. School hasn't even started yet," Arav answered, his voice lowering with every word.
"I don't trust school with the syllabus."

He convinced me to sleep, anyway. Apparently, we were supposed to enjoy the break between tenth and eleventh.

I noticed Kartik hadn't spoken in half an hour.
"K?" I called out.

No one spoke. "Kartikey Dwivedi?" I voiced out yet again.
"What?"
"Dude, zombie apocalypse at your place?"

"You really called me American, huh? Offense resides in my heart right now."

The way he said it in the most dry, tired manner possible—it made me grin.
"If you were American you wouldn't live long enough to witness a zombie apocalypse." It was Arav.

I took up from there. "Imagine school's creepy ceiling being the last thing you see before dying."
"Tragic."
"Exactly."

"Yeah, go ahead, don't let me live, morons," Kartik said, same exhaustion in his words.

Don't get me wrong, it was two in the night, and we were all exhausted. But he seemed off in an inhumanly way.

Breakups were torture.

Other than that, career options were already messing with his brain. Kartik was the Chirag Falor kinda guy. He didn't want placement, he wanted to pursue research and development. He wanted MIT. But MIT wanted Olympiad medalists, which he wasn't, and hence his frustration. Just because he hadn't participated in Olympiads didn't mean he lacked potential. He was simply lazy. It made him settle for undergraduate in IIsc Banglore and graduate in MIT/Stanford.

Among us, Arav seemed to possess the most clarity. He knew what he wanted out of life; architecture. Preferably overseas. Architecture was a gradual field, but I was sure his father owning his own firm was going to help him. Nonetheless, if he really liked it that much, he could be successful as an individual too.

Me? I was a mess. I mean, of course I had calculated, but I wasn't so sure. I knew what I wanted to pursue, but I didn't know if a prestigious university was going to accept me.

We used to discuss and analyse all the possibilities but after Kartik's split up, he wasn't saying much.

The two of us didn't say anything to console him, mostly because we didn't know how to. Hanging out in the evening and sports could only do as much. It did improve him, but I knew it can't help permanently. He was okay till the first week, but since today morning, Nitya's absence in his life had hit him again (my best guess).

When I asked him about the reason she gave him, he told me:

"She said that—she said that," his voice cracked, "she wants a breakup. She needs to cope up with things alone and everything's very sad. She doesn't want to drag me in all the crap."
"I don't know what do girls want. You be there with them, that's a problem, you don't be there with them, that's again a problem. Hypocrisy."