Arya
As I waited in the living room, I heard the faint rumble of Ishaan’s laughter mixed with Omkar’s sarcastic retorts drifting up from the driveway. They were finally here, and I couldn’t help but smile, the anticipation of having both of them around again settling any lingering nerves from the week.
I knew exactly how this would go: Ishaan would bounce through the door, grinning like he always did, and Omkar would follow, his expression half-amused and half-bored, pretending he was here for anything other than our long friendship. Sure enough, as they stepped inside, Ishaan greeted my mom enthusiastically, his usual charm in full effect, while Omkar nodded politely, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the assortment of snacks laid out on the table.
“Seriously, Arya, you didn’t tell us we’d be drowning in treats,” Omkar muttered, picking up a biscuit and inspecting it with the same scrutiny he’d give a difficult math problem.
“Come on, Om, just be grateful,” I teased. “You only had to suffer through Ishaan’s chatter on the way here. Totally worth it.”
Ishaan laughed, nudging Omkar. “See? Even Arya agrees. I’m great company, admit it.”
Omkar snorted, giving me a pointed look that spoke volumes. “I’d rather suffer in silence.”
The banter flowed easily between us, as familiar as the rhythm of our shared memories. Each word carried a sense of comfort, and even as we settled into conversation, I felt grateful to have these two wildly different people in my life. Omkar, with his blunt honesty and the way he managed to be protective without ever saying it aloud, and Ishaan, who was always there, his warmth contagious and his loyalty unquestionable.
Then my phone rang, breaking the comfortable rhythm. I glanced at the screen, and my stomach tightened a little. It was Mrs. Rao, my poetry teacher, who rarely called outside of school hours. Her support had been invaluable, yet hearing from her like this was unexpected.
“Arya, dear,” she greeted, her voice gentle yet firm. “I know this is a bit last minute, but I wanted to ask if you could host the final round of the SWARAS music competition in two weeks. You were such a natural during the first rounds, and I think you’d be perfect for the finale.”
My pulse quickened. Host the final round? My first thought was of the times I’d participated in SWARAS before, feeling the thrill of being both a host and a contestant. I’d missed the last round due to a lingering fever, but this opportunity felt different. It felt like Mrs. Rao saw something in me that went beyond those missed performances.
“I… I’d love to, ma’am,” I replied, stealing a glance at Ishaan and Omkar, who were now watching me with mild curiosity and faint amusement.
After I ended the call, Ishaan leaned forward, his eyebrow arched. “So, you’re hosting? Look at you, all famous and important.”
“Apparently,” I said, shrugging in what I hoped was a casual way, but I couldn’t hide my excitement. “Mrs. Rao thought I’d be a good fit for the finale. It’s kind of surreal, honestly.”
Omkar crossed his arms, looking at me with an approving nod. “Well, if anyone’s got the words, it’s you, Arya. Don’t mess it up.”
I grinned, feeling warmth in my cheeks. The teasing that followed was relentless. Ishaan and Omkar, who rarely agreed on anything, united in their shared mission to craft ridiculous scenarios of me stumbling over my words, using obscure Chaucerian references to confuse the audience, or freezing in front of a packed hall.
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Nothing In This World
Teen Fiction"Date your Best Friend," they said. "It will be fun," they said. But when your best friend turns out to be the complete opposite of what you thought, a relationship can get tricky. *** Eighteen-year-old Arya was reading an Instagram post that lea...
