His crazy fake girl (Part 1 of Fake series)

1. The first kiss-EV

The best part about a first kiss is right before the first kiss. - Brett Davern

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Sparsh:

"Aayi I am leaving for college so please be careful and close the door will you?"

I yelled from the living room. Our home is very small in Meera Road we all call it 'Chall' it has a room, a small kitchen, a bathroom in the corner and living room. And I think that is more than sufficient for two people. Yeah, it is small but sufficient enough for both of us at least for now.

My train of thoughts was cut shortened when I felt my mother kissing my forehead which made me smile. Then she signed saying I should take care of myself and I should concentrate on my studies only. Huh! Typical dialogues of aayi. I gave a nod and went down to where my cycle was parked. This cycle is a gift from my mom on my thirteenth birthday and it is very close to me that I can't go anywhere without it.

And my mom always teases me that she will sell it to a scraps market as she would get money from it. For which I would get angry and give her silent treatment. My mom Mamtha Shinde has lost her sweet voice only because of our past. She actually had a sweet voice and used to sing lullabies till I was nine years and then hell broke loose and here we are moving place to place to hide away from the past.

Me and mom going to the hospital, moving to a new place changing jobs all used to be the routine for us. Mom is a cook who goes one home to another and sometimes she also goes to old age homes to assist fellow cooks and in this way she brings money to our home. As for me, I do some tutoring as a part-time job to small kids.

And having a bicycle in busy cities like Mumbai is fun. No traffic (If you are going early and are lucky which I am a lot of time.), not much rules, can go in any kind of roads and is very healthy. I just love it.

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As I reached my college NPI National Pride Institutions an institute where there are several fields and opportunities to pursue. Every single field weather it is on business or fine arts have given equal importance.

But one drawback is that this institute is filled with filthy rich people who are so arrogant snotty brats who won't bother about anything that it's irritating. Thank god that I have got a scholarship in this institute or else studying journalism in any other institute would have cost me and my mother a fortune. I dragged my cycle towards the parking spot and when I finished locking my cycle, shadows of three well-built figures approached me. Ugh! Why are these bullies here again?

"Hey cycle girl this parking lot belongs to us as in for our awesome bikes not like your stinky stupid chopstick like cycles."

One guy yelled at me and then another person went to grab my cycle for which I grabbed his arm and yanked it away.

"Don't you dare to touch it"

I screamed at the follower of the minion and the trio started to laugh like they have cracked some new joke. It disgusts me the way they take things lightly. One of the followers grabbed my elbow tightly and pushed me as if I am some piece of paper. God this is gonna form a bruise! I heard some footsteps approaching near me and the familiar shivers and uncomfortable feeling consumed my senses. Don't they know a thing called personal space?

"Listen well you little girl don't test our temper. Or else no one will be happy with the consequences. But I swear we will be happy with the result."

The leader who was uncomfortably close to me and holding me pushed me with such a force that chances of me landing on the floor was obvious hence I closed my eyes to welcome pain. But the pain I was supposed to feel never came. So I opened my eyes to see what prevented my fall. I witnessed a boy around my age holding me by my waist.