Finding Love in the City

2. Their first date

She gawked at him without blinking an eye, but she couldn't see a hint of derision or mockery in his demeanor. Pursing her lips, she snickered. "What? Are you for real?"

He chuckled. "Why? What's the problem?"

Her hold over his shoulders tightened. "No... I mean..." She was puzzled, pondering over the reason behind this sudden idea that had graced him out of the blue. 

"Relax," he whispered, leaning closer to her ears. "No need to be so confused over such a simple question. A yes or no would suffice."

She giggled in anxiety. She had been asked out a couple of times before by boys she wanted nothing to do with, and she deftly declined because, firstly, she didn't think she was pretty enough to be asked out, and secondly, those boys seemed shady. However, here he was, a genuine guy, asking her on a date, and she didn't know how to respond, for he was a friend, perhaps? Almost a friend? Oh, scratch that. He was indeed a friend, who troubled her all the time, ensured she had to stay up till late at night to give him tuition over the phone, and made her write so many of his assignments, but he was sweet nonetheless. He had never irked her much except for those empty threats during the exams. And how could she forget the instance when he had saved her from getting ragged by a senior in their first year? She would forever be thankful to him for that kind gesture. However, she couldn't understand why someone as attractive as him would ask her out—a nerdy, plump, ordinarily bespectacled girl.

"Chill," he said, noticing her angst. "It's okay if you don't wanna."

She shook her head. "I am just confused. Why are you asking me out when we are merely days away from graduating college?"

He grinned. "Just a thank you for helping me graduate college."

She threw her head back as fits of laughter hit her, and she couldn't control her guffaws, prompting him to smile as well. Composing herself, she said, "Sure. Take me out on a nice date, will you?"

***

Nandini Basu was the classiest and choicest example of a person with extreme OCD issues when it came to cleanliness and tidiness. A hair out of place, a slight tilt of a painting on the wall, or even a creased bedsheet was more than enough to make her go berserk. That morning, as she woke up early to study for the last exam for the paper on Soft Computing, post which she would be a free bird and a graduate, she gathered her messy hair into a bun, rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, and somehow peered around the room in a semi-somnolent state.

To say that she was appalled would be an understatement. A shriek escaped her lips because of the way bits of paper were littered around the hostel room that she shared with Jiya and Shanya. Plastic bags, newspapers, pieces of dirty cloth, discarded threads from their clothes, long strands of hair—all of them mingling together to form one massive ball of garbage and triggering her OCD in the worst way possible.