Hearts In Harmony

26 | I'm not jealous.

| AUTHOR |

Vikram walked into his room, ice cream in hand from the store down the street. He unwrapped it and took a satisfying bite before sinking into his study chair. With a relaxed sigh, he grabbed his phone from the desk, unlocked it, and began scrolling through his messages. One message, however, snagged his attention.

It was from an unknown number. With a puzzled tilt of his head and a small frown, Vikram tapped to open the message.

"Hi," it read.

He took another bite of his ice cream, savoring the chill. But as he read the next line, "I’m Reshmi," he suddenly choked, a surprised sputter making the ice cream almost slip from his hand.

He checked the time—she’d sent the message in the evening, and now it was already night. “Oh no, oh no, oh no!” he exclaimed, his panic growing. Jumping up from his chair, he paced the room in a frenzy. Staring at the message in disbelief, he shoved the ice cream bar into his mouth and clutched his phone with both hands to reply.

“Hey—no, hi! That sounds too excited. Hello, too formal. Hey Chandramukhi— she’ll block me!” He thought, pulling the ice cream out of his mouth before eating it quickly but ended up giving himself a brain freeze.

“Ahh!” he groaned, tossing the ice cream stick into the trash. He turned his full attention back to his phone, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he typed and retyped. When he saw she was online, his eyes widened. “Come on, Vicky!” he urged himself.

His heart raced as he typed, “Hi, friend.” He hit send and watched with bated breath as Reshmi’s read receipt popped up instantly. He let out an excited squeal, gripping his phone tightly as he saw her start typing.

“I’ve washed your shirt.”

“Why?” Vikram muttered to himself.

“Give me your address, and I’ll come drop it off.”

Vikram’s face lit up. He quickly typed, “It’s not a shirt, it’s my jersey.” He hoped the extra detail would give him more time to chat.

“Whatever!” came the swift reply.

Vikram gasped, fingers flying over the screen. “Whatever? Really?” His sassy side came out to play.

He smirked as he typed again, “You can’t just call my jersey a ‘shirt’.”

The reply came almost immediately. “Okay... Now give me your address.”

Vikram felt a surge of disappointment. He wanted to keep the conversation going. He typed back, “just say you wanted to see me! I won't judge, you know.”

He hit send and waited, barely able to contain his grin. When Reshmi’s reply appeared, it was brief but full of attitude. “Please, the last thing I need to see is your ugly face. Just give me the address.”

“You should get your eyes checked,” he replied with a slight pout on his lips.

“Give me the address.” Her reply came after a few minutes.

“Bossy much? You could just give it to me at school,” he texted back with a grin.

“I want to return it tomorrow!”

“Alright, I’m sending it,” he replied, sending over his address.

After sending his address, Vikram waited eagerly for her reply, only to see her go offline, leaving him with a read receipt. He let out a playful scoff and dramatically flopped his head onto his desk.