What after That?

Ch 32.

Shubman woke up feeling groggy, his eyes fluttering open as he glanced around his room. The clock on the wall showed it was already 8 p.m. 

He rubbed his face, realizing that Ishan was no longer there. With a stretch, he walked out of his room and headed to the kitchen, where his mother was busy preparing dinner.

"Chik—Ishan gaya kya?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

His mother, without turning from her work, nodded, confirming that Ishan had left.

Shubman shrugged. "Ohk..." he muttered, not really knowing what else to say.

As he returned to his room, he noticed something on the bedside table—a small note. 

Curiosity piqued, Shubman picked it up and unfolded it. Inside was a simple, handwritten message from Ishan: "Thank you."

Shubman chuckled, amused by the small gesture. He could almost picture Ishan writing the note. With a soft yawn, Shubman muttered to himself, "Kya mast neend aayi..." feeling a sense of contentment from the day's events.

The rain outside had finally slowed to a drizzle, and everything seemed calmer.

Over the past week, Ishan had started joining Shubman and his friends for cricket after his tuitions. He found himself finishing up a little earlier each day—sometimes half an hour early—just so he could spend more time with them on the field. 

It had become a part of his routine, and he was beginning to feel a sense of peace and belonging that he hadn't expected.

The friendly banter between the boys was something Ishan particularly enjoyed. Shubman's friends were a lively bunch, always teasing one another, cracking jokes, and laughing in between overs. 

There was a relaxed atmosphere on the field, where everyone could just be themselves. And while Shubman never missed a chance to tease Ishan, even in front of his friends, Ishan noticed that Shubman treated him differently—like he was part of the group now.

"See that one.." mayank, would shout while showing off his bowling skills, only for Shubman to cut in with, "Bhai, zyada mat ban wo uda dega!"

Ishan chuckled at their silly remarks, slowly becoming more comfortable in this environment. There was something soothing about running around the field, feeling the wind on his face, and hearing the laughter of everyone around him.

Whenever Ishan was at the crease, Shubman would stand behind him, calling out sarcastic instructions like, "aise nahi chik chik ji.. thoda gusse se.. nahi to ball nikal jayegi.. " 

Ishan would just roll his eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Shubman's teasing had somehow become part of the fun.

Playing with them made Ishan feel like he was part of something bigger. It wasn't just about the cricket—it was about the connection, the friendship, and the carefree banter that made every evening something he looked forward to.

Time flew by so quickly that none of them realized when their 11th-grade year had come to an end. 

Ishan found himself blending into the group seamlessly, playing cricket with Shubman and his friends almost every day. The months passed with their playful banter, cricket matches, and endless teasing.

Through all of it, Ishan came to a surprising realization—Shubman wasn't as bad as he had initially thought. 

Sure, he was annoying and relentless with his teasing, but beneath that mischievous exterior, there was something genuine about him.