Dil Jaanta Hai | ✔

seven

||CHAPTER 7||
《¤》

Contrary to what many people might assume, I didn't ever hate English, which was quite unusual to accept because it was really rare that something didn't qualify my hatred-list. But there were a few things I didn't hate, and English was one of them.

However, just because I didn't hate it, didn't mean that it was the love of my life either.

"How many of you don't have Snapshots today?" Ms. Negi scanned each bench with her hawk-like gaze, her specs drooping on her nose. She was in her mid-forties which explained her graying hair, but not her raging temper on the occasion of her dear students not bringing the English supplementary book.

Hence, I tried to cover the empty space on my desk with my hands, but alas, it wasn't my lucky day.

"Third row, fourth bench. Stand up!"

Ishita sighed worriedly, "I'll make sure she's cursed at your funeral."

"I see you don't have the book today as well," Ms. Negi put up an effort to visit me.

From my seat,I tried my best to skim around the classroom, in search of someone who had forgotten the Snapshots for the fifth time in a row. But no, everyone was just too obedient.

"I'm extremely sorry ma'am," I tried going the old school way. "I was studying the chapter last night and I forgot the book on the table."

Five snorts followed my response. We had all ended up attending another party and no books were involved in the process.

"Well, if that is so, I am sure you wouldn't mind telling the class about the author of the chapter?"

Uh-oh. I didn't even know what chapter we were doing except from the fact that it was definitely not the first.

She looked at me expectantly, as I diverted my eyes to the page Ishita was subtly pointing at. Ms Negi caught the hint quicker than I could.

"Out of the class, Ms. Arvika Deewan."

"I'm really sorry, I promise I will bring it tomorrow," I pleaded to no avail.

"Promises, that's what all of they make." I realized it was Raman Oberoi's ex-wife who was speaking. Glaring at me, she motioned me to get out of the classroom. "Just a fancy word for commitment issues. How difficult is it to keep a book in your bag? Out, right now!"

Slowly, I moved out of the desk and trudged out of the classroom. Once outside, I heard her continue the class, quite cheerfully in my absence. I leaned my back against the wall and looked at the ground, three floors down, from the other side of the corridors.

Primary kids are playing, some hide and seek, and some football. Carefree. Happy. Untangled. It was quite difficult to recall a time when I was like them. So absorbed into the meager scene, I didn't realize someone's presence until their shadow covered my left.

"Oberois are giving you a hard time, don't you think?"

My eyes darted to Vansh's dark brown ones when he moved around me, to stand to my right, against the wall.

"Everyone needs someone to vent out. I'm glad it's me for her," I mumbled, looking back at the kids playing under the sun.

"That's unusually strange."

"Our intentions are the same, but passions misaligned," I shrugged.

"I wonder why," I felt him looking at me.

"Negi ne tumhe bhi bahar feik diya?" I turned to him, diverting the topic.

"According to her, I'm in the washroom."