Pocket Full of Lies

43- Password

Time to keep all the awkwardness and fights at the backseat.

We had already wasted half a day sleeping, so upon freshening up, we directly got to the study room to try our hands on the laptop.

"Try your name." I suggested, peeping at the laptop, while standing beside Rehaan's chair.

"I don't think I will use such a simple password."

"You never know. The smartest ones are usually first at making silly mistakes."

He scowled at my words but typed his name nonetheless. He smiled sarcastically, before pointing at the screen that showed the incorrect password in bright red colour.

I sheepishly scratched my head, before suggesting, "Perhaps add 1234 near your name."

"How about you stop suggesting and just answer my questions?" Rehaan said as politely as he could, but I knew he was seething inside.

"Shoot."

"Birth date?" Rehaan asked.

"17th November."

"Damn, this one doesn't work either," he muttered.

"Obviously. Why would my birthday work?"

He looked at me like I had lost it, before speaking through gritted teeth, "My birth date."

"Oh!"

"Are you for real? Why would I ask for yours?"

"Don't look at me like I am dumb. It was a reflex answer, okay?"

"There's reflex action. But what the hell is a reflex answer?" He threw his hands up in the air, almost hitting my nose in the process.

Slapping his hand to move it away from me, I answered him back in an equally demeaning tone, "It is an automatic response to the birthday question. Because you know, no one really asks about their own birthday to others." 

The look he gave me would have been enough for a stranger to pee in his pants with fright. I wasn't any less either. I stared back at him with equal fierceness, not having any intention to back down.

Our glaring competition lasted for probably two minutes, before he blinked away. I raised my fist in the air, whooping in joy for my win.

"If you are done, can we focus? You have already wasted two tries," he muttered, rolling his eyes at me.

"We. We have wasted two tries," I corrected him, not before mumbling, "sore loser," under my breath.

I am sure he would have jumped in joy if he had won. Okay, not to that extreme, but there would have been an arrogant smirk at the very least.

"Right, of course. We," he said, humoring me, although we both knew that those failures were entirely my fault.

"Are you sure it must be your birth date? This might be the last try," I said, biting my lips in worry.

"Rehaan," I called out, waving my palm in front of his face as he seemed lost.

"Where's your attention?"

"Lips," he muttered, still in daze.

"What?" I was at a loss at his answer.

His eyes widened suddenly, his face turning red. "Noth...nothing," he stuttered, before he cleared his throat and asked, "What were you saying?" before answering himself, "Last try, right? Don't worry about it; it seems we have six more tries. This laptop has been set for a maximum of eight tries."

"Okayyy, good for us," I muttered, still not getting over Rehaan's weirdness.

"Anyways, I was thinking about trying out my birthday, my parents' names, their birthdays or their anniversary or combinations of everything."

Focus on the passwords, Muskaan. This isn't the time to think about Rehaan's behaviour.

Trying my best to keep my head on the current situation, I thought of what Rehaan suggested.

"It might work. It's not like there's much to put in your password otherwise. No friends, no girlfriend, no pets, no hobbies, no major achievements...."

"Jeez! Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said rhetorically, looking annoyed.

"I just said the truth," I defended myself, before grumbling, "There should have been a fingerprint scanner in the laptop, just like your locker. It would have been so much easier then."

"Sorry Madam, I will make sure to keep that in mind while purchasing a new laptop."

"Nah! Let it be. That is as harmful as it is useful. The culprit could have easily used your fingerprint after hitting your head. Or he might have even cut your finger..." I shuddered, getting scared of my own imagination.

"If you are done conspiring mystery plots, can we...," he trailed off, pointing towards his laptop screen, trying his best to keep his annoyance at bay.

I apologized sheepishly, knowing that I went off track.

That too on his obviously sarcastic response.

"Anyways, let's hope this works," he muttered, after shaking his head at my idiocy.

"Fingers-crossed." I did exactly as I said, while bouncing on my toes in nervousness and impatience.

"Incorrect."

"Incorrect."

"Incorrect."

"Incorrect."

My bouncing stopped after getting continuous wrong answers. The hope had already diminished.

Uncrossing my fingers, I told Rehaan, "Let's just stop."

"There's still two tries left. Let's give it our all," he said, still feeling optimistic.

Another Incorrect.

"It's fine. Don't worry, we have one more chance," Rehaan said with determination.

"We are obviously failing. If we couldn't get a right answer in those seven chances, what is the probability of getting it right this time? Seriously Rehaan, let's just stop before the laptop dies."

"Dies...," Rehaan mumbled, before turning his chair, to look at me with bright sparkling eyes.

"Eureka Moment?" I questioned with raised eyebrows.

"When did our parents die?"

"Who the fuck asks this question with excitement?" I scoffed at his incredulous behaviour.

"Can't you just answer?" He huffed.

I rolled my eyes at him, before telling him the date.

He hurriedly turned back and started typing.

"Slowly. Or else you will waste the chance because of mistyping."

"Yes mother." He taunted, but slowed down his speed nonetheless.

My eyes were glued to the screen as I bit my finger in worry. My nervousness increased with each number he typed.

Starting...

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" I jumped up and down on my spot, before turning to face Rehaan with a huge smile to share the excitement.

"We did i—"

My words died down in my throat when I noticed his condition.

Instead of the happy Rehaan I had been expecting, I found a barely conscious one.