˙˚ʚ 𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ᰔᩚ.ᐟ.ᐟ
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In the bustling corridors of a lively Indian high school, amidst the chaos of classes we find Meera Sharma, is the kind of girl who seems ordinar...
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In my room, the atmosphere felt charged with a light, playful tension as Preeti and I locked eyes. We had been teasing each other without blinking, a silly game that somehow made the room feel smaller and our friendship larger. Preeti let out a long sigh and finally blinked, conceding defeat.
"OK, OK, I'll convince our mothers," she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. I couldn't help but smile proudly, feeling a spark of victory.
"Thik hai, chalo to niche," I replied, my tone playful. "Waise bhi mujhe samajh nahi aata ki tum logo ne alag desh flat liya hi kyu, jab tumhe aur massi ko din bhar humare ghar mein rehna hi hai." My laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls, light and carefree.
(Alright, let's go downstairs) (Besides, I don't understand why you guys even rented a separate apartment when you and auntie spend all day at our place anyway.'
Preeti chuckled, shaking her head. "Kya hi kare, mere pita ji ko shauk hai ki unka khud ka ghar ho, isliye." Her smile then softened, a warm glimmer in her eyes. "Aur waise bhi, main aur mumma dono ko apni behen ke ghar mein zyada maza aata hai."
(What can we do, my father likes to have his own house, that's why.) ( And besides, both my mom and I enjoy spending time at my aunt's house more.)
Watching Preeti grin, I smiled back, feeling a comforting familiarity in the chaos of everyday life. Preeti wasn't just a friend; she was like the sister to me rather than a mere cousin, making our bond special as we shared not just secrets but also daily routines and countless evenings together.
The thought of us, along with the upcoming movie night at Lakhsya's place, sent a thrill through me. With Preeti by my side, I felt ready to face any challenge, buoyed by our effortless connection and the anticipation of spending time with Lakhsya in a less formal setting.
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As Preeti and I descended the stairs, the familiar sounds of our mothers' laughter and the TV mingling in the background greeted us. They were deeply engrossed in the latest episode of their favorite soap opera, occasionally commenting on the characters' choices. We exchanged a quick, determined look before approaching them, ready to present our plan.
"Mom, Maasi, can we talk to you for a moment?" I asked, pausing as they turned their attention towards us, the TV now background noise to our more serious topic.
"What is it, girls?" my mom asked, her tone shifting from amusement to curiosity.
"We were thinking of going to Lakhsya's house tonight. He's hosting a movie night with a few of our classmates," I said, trying to gauge their reaction.
