At Marine Drive.
Fuck man, I really like the peace.
Gentle breeze blowing quietly, tickling my face feels like silly giggles of innocent children as the afternoon approaches dawn.
And I lay there, leaning against Kash's shoulders with our backs facing Marine Drive on the small marble/ granite/ whatever the heck they are made of slabs, peacefully and sharing Nutella Brownie Shake. One of the finer days in life when she looks up from her NEET prep and comes out of her study room and hangs out with me.
Just in the Moment.
Despite the hustle-bustle, nonchalance humming of world aka moving people around us, trapped in their heads, with their own stories to tell and keep some away from the preying eyes of the world, in their own worlds. The sway of pondwater felt like soothing balm on my worries, my overthinking, healing all of it. The Constant assignments, urge to excel in class even when I don't give a fuck, crush not paying attention, and then there's a boy with brown eyes and golden aura who pinned me against library wall, ready to devour me, whole of me, and at the same moment fighting and breathing down on his own demons.
And the fact,I haven't told about any single of it to Kash despite having talked about news, media, Hindu-Muslim Politics, Alien Invasion, Krishna ji's message, extinction of humanity with end of Kalyug, our future husband's, our children finally getting know about the crackhead side of their mothers, and crushes and candies and sex and Bdsm and rape and feminism, you name it in the last two days of school and/on top of it choosing to silently walk through Marine Drive, hand-in -hand for last 30 mins and countless aesthetic and silly photos and selfies until we stopped at Frullato and then drank two thick shakes, both chocolate. And this Nutella is our third one and still I haven't had the courage to share it with her.
Not that she'll shame/blame and guilt-trip but instead ask me a hundred questions about what happened and makes sures that I am not hiding any single, tiniest, minutest of details from her definitely a thousand times, and if it's not enough, she might even go ahead and kick him the balls, legit in front of any male or female teacher, and even our cranky VP Sir, or Principal sir for that matter if she feels like it and then kill me with her bare hands, bring me back to life, and give at least minimum of 3 hrs. lecture on not telling her sooner then kill me again. Not kidding.
And I don't know if it's my humanity/ kindness or cowardice that I still want peace or least keep him away from unnecessary harm that the relevation to my best friend only! (not my mother who treats me more like a friend and not my father who might scratch that, WILL GO to even erase all trace of his as well his family trees extinction from the earth), will bring to him and his mental peace.
Why am I even thinking about it now? Cause if I think about it, I speak about it and especially in front of my Kash and if I go ahead and do that, I don't even wanna think about it!
That's when little hands tapped on my knees, bringing me out of my reverie. I looked down to see a little girl holding a pretty little flower for me. On her knee.
On her fucking knees! like in romantic fantasies when the Male lead Proposes to female lead.
In. Front. Me.With. A. Flower. In. Her. Hand.
Why would a cutie do that ?!
I blinked , astonished." Is this for me ?"
YOU ARE READING
Going Eighteen
Teen FictionKhushi Chawla. A writer. Her Musings. Her habit of looking at the world through snippets and scenes. Her ever-growing crush on Sandeep and fawning over his 'yes-sir' fingers. Sandeep Batra. A Topper. His Discipline. His focus is on the big picture a...
