Always Is Not Forever (Breaking Myself - Part II)

3. The One Where I Lie

NOT EDITED EVEN FOR ONCE!

[ K A B I R ' S P O V ]

"Yes, mom, I locked the apartment." I rolled my eyes at her constant battering. No matter how much grown up I had become or how many months I had stayed away from home, she would always tell me or more like scold me for being careless.

Well, no doubt her worry was valid compared to my behavior in Delhi, but now, I was a responsible man. I had been living in Bangalore for three months, and that conveyed something, but what to do about her. Overworrying Indian moms.

"Did you eat? Is the chef good?"

"Mom," I said in a laughing tone. "I'm on top of the world." She sighed from the other end. "How's Nisha?" I asked carefully, gripping the steering wheel tightly under my grip.

I should ask more, ask how she was doing at home after everything that happened, ask if she was eating, ask if she started preparing for her exams again, but held everything. I should've been there for her at this point of life, not left to Bangalore. She never left my side, and I left in a minute.

"She's fine," She said reluctantly. "Better than before. Good news is that she painted last night."

"Did she?" I asked excitedly. "That's great."

"Kabir." I hummed. "Your sister is fine. She's taking baby steps to move on."

"Did dad say anything to her?" He was too much angry at Nisha for being so careless with everything and forgetting where her moral lies. I didn't blame him for it. I too was in the same position as him or rather more than that. She loved my best friend and I didn't even know a bit of it, I didn't even know she ran away to get away from us. Where we too cruel to her?

But much to my surprise, dad didn't say her anything or I should say didn't talk to her again. Mom tried to make him understand, but for the first time, he didn't listen to her and stayed mostly in work. He was hurt, and I knew he could never stay angry at Nisha for long. He loved his daughter too much.

"Arnav is stubborn just like you." I tried to ignore she called dad from his name because it was weird hearing it. I had never heard any of my friend's parents call each other by name, but mom and dad do it. "He'll come around. I need to scold him for it."

Cracking a smile, I stared ahead at the hostel gate as Alina rushed out of it, digging her books in the handbag. "Make a video of it." She opened the door and was about to say something when she saw me on the phone and bit her lower lip. Stop it. Don't do it. I haven't kissed her after the day of our result, too scared if we get out of hands and too scared to make her afraid me.

"Are you cooking?" I asked suspiciously, hearing the frying noises from the background. "Didn't the doctor tell you not to go near the stove?"

"Huh, both father and son are the same," She complained.

Smirking, I asked, "What dad did now?"

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Alina trying to sort out her hair with the help of her fingers. Shaking my head, I loosened my grip on the steering wheel, opened the glove box and handed her the comb.

She always wakes up late, and then try to sort out her hair in the car. To make it easy, I had kept a comb in the car only.

My stupid bookworm.

"Told if I ever cook again, he'll eat oily food. Moreover, the frying noises is coming from the TV. Now, don't you have college?"

"Alina takes too much time," I exaggerated.