■WATTPAD INDIA AWARDS 2019 WINNER■
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For the Delhi Tycoons' kids, life has always been too challenging, and it's no different for Arvika Deewan. It's not everyday that her divorced mother remarries another business man, and there...
The grey hoodie guy from Karan's birthday night was standing outside the canteen, hidden behind the wall and trees. I wasn't searching for him, merely crossing the huge ground through its shortcut, but he thought otherwise.
"I told you, you'd be needing me."
He reeked of smoke and all things unearthly.
"Well, not yet buddy. Were you smoking here?"
"My daily adda," he points to the stomped cigarettes. "No cameras, no cleaning staff. Just me and meri tanhai."
Warning bells rang, not just in my mind, but in the campus too, signalling the end of the break.
"You'd be needing one shot, very soon."
"Why do you always keep saying that?"
"Because you don't have a very good reputation?" He flicked off his cigarette, blazer hanging off one hand.
"Not all bad reputed kids need to follow the things the bad poster child does. I like breaking the norms."
"And that's why you wouldn't survive in that shark tank without a daily dose. Everyone knows about your familial problems, Deewani."
"It's Deewan."
"I like Deewani more."
There was no point arguing with him. "I don't even know your name."
"People call my Mickey. That's how you can get your fix. Now you know where to find me too."
"I'm really not interested in drugs, Mickey."
He even had grey eyes that stared me down. Drowsy, but effective.
"Don't shit me with your good habits crap. I'm not forcing you, I'm simply offering. They'll be ready whenever you are."
He dismissed me, and the unsettling feeling set down my stomach. So, before the final bell could ring, I hurried inside the canteen before any one could suspect something wrong.
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I was not the only one giving the retest. Ritwik and Karan were my allies in it too, just not in the literal sense.
They had studied, I hadn't.
They had completed the ten questions within half an hour, and I was again stuck after the third.
I guess three was a lucky number for me. Note the sarcasm.
Fifteen minutes later, when Mr. Gaur, Karan's favourite teacher and our invigilator, took our papers, I knew that the dooms day was very near.
"It's okay, we can give you false hopes that you'll pass," Ritwik assured me as we returned back to our classes for the last period.
I presented him with an eye roll, which made him double out in laughter.
