"Jesus." I exhale looking at the time. Its noon. Mohini isn't in bed and I mentally curse her tight sleep schedule. My hands reach down under the covers and I pull up my pyjamas. Last night was amazing, and I close my eyes and let the memories wash over me. Doing each other's hair, matching shoes with the outfits, accessorising, posing in front of the mirror and taking hundreds of pictures making funny faces.
I played the Four more shots please playlist and we sang to the funky tunes using a hairbrush like a mic. Through the night we shifted to ABBA and vibed to Dancing Queen and When I kissed the teacher. Amidst the total madness I decided that we just have to have a dance party. And just go psycho. Well as in I go all out like Bertha Mason on drugs and Mohini will sit on the bed against the head board and read every book on wattpad trying not to judge her silly older sister to pieces.
When the two of us could no longer keep our eyes open I cleaned my room from head to toe, because Mojo cannot even fold a t-shirt properly. Then I babysat her and wiped her makeup off. We got cozy in our new PJ sets and fell asleep.
My results are out today and I'll need to be in school by 2pm. Honestly, I am a little nervous and there's a hollow pit in my stomach. I brush my teeth and grab a quick lunch with everyone. After a shower I get dressed in a short navy blue dress and I go to school with dad. Mom stays behind to drop Mohini to the airport since her flight departs at 4. Both of us cry and hug each other tightly for a few minutes. I'm going to be in Bikaner with her very soon, but goodbye still hurts.
On the way to school I tell dad about the show and have a serious discussion about the result. Nostalgia sweeps over me when I walk through the huge green gates before calling Tara.
"Hi bee! Have you reached school?" I ask walking to the auditorium.
"Yeah! Standing in the cue right now. Three more people to go." She tells me.
"Oh great. What about Noor?"
"She's running late."
"Okay bye."
Seeing everyone after so long is refreshing and I smilingly say hello to whoever's eye I meet. I get into line and my hands turn cold instantly. Tara is currently receiving her report card and has that obnoxious undecipherable look on her flushed face. My heart catches pace and I try to control my breathing. Before I know it I'm standing in front of my class teacher. Oh god.
"Good afternoon Ma'am." I smile.
"Hello Alia! How are you?" She says going through the class list looking for my roll number.
"I'm good." I bite my lip.
"So, how did you do? What do you expect?" She asks drawing out my marks card and turning it over.
Suspense much? "I did well. I expect a 92%." I utter shaking as goosebumps rise on my skin. I should have worn a bloody fur coat.
"Very good." She nods at my dad and hands me the thick sheet of paper.
93.4%
Hmmm. This cannot be mine. I check the name. Alia Malhotra. Oh, Weird.
My face cracks into a smile. Not bad bitch I tell myself.
"This is actually my report card." I laugh suddenly.
My dad gives me a look and I fall silent as he talks to my class teacher. She tells him the same thing she says every parent teacher meeting and I proudly look at all the marks. Physics is the lowest, Duhhhh. Hindi went better than expected. I topped English and lost too many marks in Math. This calls for a celebration. We should go to Toscano or I can maybe buy some more books? NO!! My conscious screams.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Him and Me
Teen Fiction"If you were a boy, I'd ask you to take off your t-shirt for spoiling mine." He retorts "If this wasn't a restaurant I'd slap you across your arrogant face". I spit with anger. Alia plays the role of Cinderella in her Ballet Academy. One fine night...
