Hold My Hand

Chapter 1

Ana-pov

‘All right. It isn’t going to be that bad. You’re just getting paranoid,’ I tell myself for the zillionth time and take
a deep breath in and slowly let it out. I have always been a closet drama queen, that’s what my sister says. After all, it is just a matter of one week. That’s just seven days. How likely is it that in a mere seven days’ time,someone will find out that I am the most socially ill-equipped and maybe, just maybe, the most boring person ever?
I have never managed to keep myself interested in myself, forget about anybody else. Over the years, the grow-ing disinterest that people show towards me has turned me vengeful and I, in turn, have no interest in anybody at all. And that disinterest is etched all over my face, accompanied by the big Fuck Off sign pasted on my forehead.
Seven days also means one hundred and sixty-eight hours or four thousand and sixty-two minutes. Every second of which, I’m supposed to spend surrounded by girls. Girls who take pains to dress up and look pretty. Girls who actually know how to dress up and look pretty. Girls who have boys fawning all over them, followingthem around, hoping for a glimpse.

Point is, for the next one week, I am supposed to be surrounded by girls who are … well, girls. That is not tosay that I am not a girl. Of course I am. I mean, if we go by the physical attributes that I am blessed with. I could have been a little more endowed at certain parts of my body, though that’s off the topic. But just because I happen to
have physical evidence, it does not make me a girl. A guy with boobs, a guy had called me once. It was very em-barrassing, as he didn’t say it playfully; it was meant as a snide remark on my wretched looks. I would’ve happily
done the honours of knocking his teeth off, but I stopped myself in time. For two reasons. First, honestly—that
guy, Xander, is the only guy who talks to me (the only person).
And secondly, his accusation was not completely untrue. I don’t have mannerisms that essentially say that I’m a girl. I’ve never got myself a pedicure or even a manicure—even when Stella, my elder sister, literally bit my head off to get one done for that wedding last year. I get hair-cuts only twice a year, even though the hairstylist
pleads with me to come back every two months for a trim. In fact, if I were to list the number of articles I use that
fall under the vanity department, it would contain only—
Body wash
Face wash
Shampoo
Conditioner
Moisturizer (Strictly during winters)
Lip balm.

I know most of what is on my list does not fall under vanity, but under hygiene. But hygiene is the closest I
have come to vanity till now. It’s not that I don’t want to be pretty or look like the girls on television. It’s just that I haven’t had the time or the drive to do something about it. And more than anything else, I think I am too late. When I was young and no one was dolling up, I guess I was pretty too. But slowly, we grew up and people startedto dress up and I got uglier by comparison. I study myself in the mirror and I am disappointed. In my dreams,
where I am a grown up and take my own decisions, I live in a house with no mirrors. Mirrors remind me of
things I am not, things I see other people are and things I would like to be. And also—sadly—things that I can never be.
Look at my wardrobe for instance. No chiffon. No satin. No silk. No skirts either. You won’t find anything that
has frills or embroidery on it. I don’t own a single article of clothing that can be worn to a party, let alone a date. I don’t have a single pair of footwear that has heels higher than one inch. I still end up wearing my sneakers everywhere. I don’t have a boyfriend. The only guy I have ever dated was Max Paul. Bastard of the highest order.

I’ve always been pretty good at academics and I, somehow, always felt at home being surrounded by books. It was the tenth grade and I was engrossed in my dreams of scoring the maximum in the board examinations.Then Max happened. Max, the wide-eyed rich boy in school noticed me. He was charming, had a way with words, and was the most coveted company in school. The way he held my hand on the last bench of the class,and told me how I had the prettiest eyes in the whole world melted my teenage heart. I was too naïve and loved him to bits. I have to admit, he made me feel like a girl!
Three months later, I realized my responsibilities as a girlfriend, which ranged from completing all his assign- Lments to forging his attendance in classes. No ice creams, no small bits of love notes exchanged during the class,no loving glances shot across the school campus, and surely no dates.

A month later, he was holding someone else’s hand and saying the same things to her.
I was crushed. I thought I would never forgive him, but he had made me feel like I had never felt before, so now I think I have. He was my first experience with love, and though it ended on a bad note, I don’t hold it very much against him. After we broke up, I spent days locked up in my room, crying and watching sad movies and cursing everyone. Eventually, I did badly in the exams. My parents had been expecting a lot from me and I hated letting them down.

Just before I was born, My father joined a local university as a professor. Things have been better since and he wants a better future for both Stellamy older sister, and me. Stella is already on her way. She was always interested in English literature and went
off to LA to study. We have no doubts that she will be doing her Master’s from Oxford on a full scholarship
next year.
Meanwhile, my future was in shambles when Max left me. The results were more dis-appointing for my father than they were for me, not that he ever let it show. I remember him coming into room,
holding my hand and saying, ‘I know this is not your best but I have full faith in you, Anna. You’re meant for
bigger things.’
‘I have let you down, Dad. I don’t know what to do. I will never be as good as Stella. I am sorry. I am…’
‘Come here,’ he said and hugged me.
I don’t know how much he meant it, but I was moved to tears. When the other kids were scolded up and dis-
paraged for their less than satisfactory performance in their exams, I—the expected topper—was just greeted with a warm hug. And an ice cream thereafter.

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Hey beautiful people
I know this chapter was Little big and boring but I promise to make it for next time