**Winner 2024 Amby Awards**
Fiza has everything planned-medical school, a respectable future, and an engagement she never wanted. Determined to escape a loveless match, she creates a checklist to find the perfect husband her father will approve of.
...
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My sleep was broken by chaotic dreams. At first, Alan and Mownika were laughing at me, then she suddenly disappeared. Alan was holding me tenderly but a few seconds later, he transformed into a monstrous centipede, its countless legs coiling around me, cold pincers clicking menacingly near my face.
I jolted awake, gasping, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room was dark and silent. Neha still wasn't back. My phone screen read 5 a.m. There was a message from her sent hours ago: "Saw you leave with Alan. Heading to CC."
I set the phone aside, trying to shake the clinging unease from the dream, and buried my face back into the pillow, desperate for a few more hours of oblivion.
But my mind wouldn't quiet. It kept circling back to him. Was he with Mownika right now? Were they still together, or had he already taken an auto back to the Community Center like last time?
How long did sex usually take? Was he tender during these casual sex encounters? Or did he just do it and leave?
I rubbed my eyes hard, as if I could scrub the thoughts away. I turned on my side and hugged my pillow tightly to my chest. Alan was my friend. I was alone here in Pondicherry. That was why my thoughts revolved around him. I did not want to date Alan. We were completely wrong for each other. We were friends—good friends—but trust him in a relationship? Not a chance.
But then the memories washed over me. The pure joy when we sang together, the easy way we teased each other, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes when he stepped between me and Abhishek, the way my heart had hammered not from fear, but from the feel of his body against mine.
No! Stop it! It was just friendship. Of course it was. I found him fascinating because he was so different from anyone I'd ever known. His life was a world away from mine, and I was intrigued. That was all. That didn't mean I was in love with him. It didn't mean I wanted more.
I felt faint, tingling sensation on my neck, a phantom memory of his breath on my neck as he hugged me. I squeezed the pillow tighter.
Fine, I admitted to the dark, silent room. I was attracted to him.
But that wasn't why I sought him out. It wasn't! I genuinely liked him as a person. He was a good friend. I enjoyed his company. That was all it was.
With a frustrated sigh, I tossed the pillow aside and turned onto my stomach, pressing my face into the mattress, willing sleep to come and quiet the riot in my mind.
It felt like just a few moments later whenthe harsh, unforgiving sun stabbed through my eyelids, dragging me violently awake. I squinted at my phone—11 a.m. My heart plummeted. The prize distribution! I had missed it entirely!
A cold wave of panic washed over me. The room was too quiet. Neha's and Anjana's beds were empty, their bags gone. Why didn't they wake me? The bus to Bangalore was at noon!
