UNTIL THE END (#Watty's 2017)

An Enigma

Tanya's point of view
"Would do like to share a table with me" Armaan asked, his eyes were radiating desperation. I was perplexed for a moment. It was true that we used to hate each other but past few days were different. I looked around the classroom, twenty five unknown faces were staring at me. My eyes settled at a particular boy in the corner, his expressions were very unnerving, it felt as if his eyes were enough to molest me. I quickly turned, withdrawing my gaze from that shady corner to ultimately face Armaan again. Somehow I felt warm and protected near him, like he would deflect any harm coming towards me.
Brushing aside these confusing thoughts, I smiled. "Surely, Thank you for asking " I said. A glimpse of happiness appeared on his face." Your welcome , tooth fairy" he chipped. Gosh, how much I missed that name.
We sat down, a couple of minutes passed without any of us speaking, probably both of us wanting the other to start.
I sighed and started to read the biology text. My eyes were looking at the book but my mind was thinking about Armaan and only Armaan. What an enigma he was. Probably 5'8, he was a decent looker. Jet black hair, dark brown intense eyes and a high jaw line, Armaan radiated novelty. A football rugged physique, surely girl used swoon over him. I smiled. How different I was from him.
My father used to travel a lot, meaning I had to change schools very often. During these school shifts, I had met quite a lot of people. From eye candies that she would put Bradd Pit to shame to nerds who literally were Newtons incarnation 2.0.
At 13, two things hit me hard. Firstly, that infernal puberty and secondly the attention of boys, many boys to be correct. As my body developed, number of boys with crushes on me increased exponentially. Hell, the elder boys even gave me the unofficial title of 'hottest girl on the campus'. I never liked that attention, the books were my only solace.
But Armaan was different. He somehow welt warm and blissful. Somehow I even accepted the nickname ' tooth fairy ' that he gave me. Somehow his  sarcasm, his arrogance didn't irritated me. Somehow he inspired me to be better. Each day, each minute I struggled to defeat him. My every loss brought more respect for him.
Our start wasn't the best one. In the scorching heat of June, I was looking for a dairy. Being new to a city is always difficult and the heat was testing my nerves. I spotted him, sitting below a rather old oak tree reading a book. He seemed like a nice person to ask for directions. But like always, I messed up the things. Such a loose cannon I am. He was reading my favourite book. Somehow I couldn't resist. I blurted out the plot twist. I regretted it instantly but my ego wouldn't allow me to apologise.
After coming back home, I realised how big prick I was. I rushed back to apologies but he wasn't there. I went back the next day and day after that but much to my dismay he never showed up. I felt guilty but shamefully I forgot about the incident.
Frequent traveling meant that I had no long term friends. I never found a best friend, the category of sleepovers, hangouts and parties never existed for me. I think the proper terminology is 'loner'. But fates weren't all bad. I had an awesome family. My life would have been meaningless without them. From the traditional 9'o clock family dinner to Sunday family outings and window shopping, the time with my family was my beacon in my social darkness.
In the hustle bustle of the new city, I forgot about Armaan but the fates were downright cruel. I bumped into him again at that infernal coaching class. For the first time in my life I fought with a stranger over a seating arrangement. He looked cute, sarcasm flowing in his veins rather than blood. That day, I Tanya Sehgal, the insane topper made a worthy competitor. We used to glare at each other, trying to best each other. Answer before each other even if the answer was wrong. '2 plus 2 is five, I didn't care' if I answered before him. An extra hour of study, an extra numerical just to beat him.
But I failed. The realisation struck me hard. I was shattered, second position was worser than failure. I looked at him, he was sporting a big smirk. I was bracing myself for a jab from him. But the jab never came. His eyes were compassionate, more like a friend than a competitor. I sighed, I again failed to understand him. Weeks passed, our rivalry was still fierce but tamer than before. We didn't talk but we were closer than before. Out of curiosity, I searched him on Facebook. More than 1000 friends, I laughed at the irony.  Even with so many friends, he seemed so alone, so reserved.
It was a rather gloomy day, when my father took us to those awful dinner party. We were enjoying a small family time, when his clients arrived. My heart skipped a beat, it was him. Surrounded by his parents was Armaan, in a black tuxedo. He was looking damn handsome. I blushed a little, giggled as he made smart comments.
Again I messed the night. When our mothers were discussing those nasty internals, I without thinking kicked him and issued him a challenge. I thought he would be angry and his parents will forfeit the deal. Despite the fact that we were well off, my father still needed this deal. My fears were short lived. He behaved like a complete gentleman thus adding another item in my guilt trip.
We were both bored. I was so tired of everything, so was he. But he out of no where got the most satanic idea. He asked me for a dance. I was shocked. In the midst of confusion, I nodded. We walked to the middle of ball floor. I grasped his well built shoulder, he held my waist. A shiver ran through my spine. He held my right hand, his eyes full of emotions. I felt elated, a blissful sensation propagated throughout my body. He stepped back, I followed him forward. We complemented each other. I never felt so special. Half an hour later, we completed our dance. I wanted more of him, one more touch, one more minute. But my dreams never came true. We parted again. I didn't slept that night, all I could do was to dream about those priceless 30 minutes. We were so close, I could feel his heart beating, blood rampaging in his veins, the smooth abs on his chest. The fragrance of jasmine and lavender coming fro his cologne.
I wanted to meet him again and that to soon.
We met at the class next day, he waved and smiled. But this was the only contact we had over the weekend. I used to sneak of to the the park, in anticipation of meeting him but he never showed up.
But today, he was sitting beside me, reading a chapter on fluid dynamics. My heart was beating fast and my mind was running out of control. I just wanted to talk to him. Building confidence, I said " Armaan, how was your weekend..." when suddenly the door opened and a  chirpy voice came in "Good morning class". The teacher strode in, breaking my neonate conversation with him.