It's been two days since that incident, the moment Karan held me, carried me in his arms to the infirmary when I was knocked out. That memory had taken over my mind so completely that I didn't even realize when Diya came and sat beside me on our usual seat at the back of the class, right near the window in the third row on the third floor. From that seat, I could see the entire school grounds. I had chosen it for that very reason, so I could watch Karan whenever his class came out for their games period.
"Oi, Rohi, where are you lost? "Diya waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to her with an annoyed expression and muttered, "Now here. What happened?" My voice was tinged with irritation as I turned to look out the window again.
"Priya was looking for you. She's assigning you the duty of decorating the auditorium for the upcoming Spring Festival."
I groaned in frustration and looked back at her. Diya just shrugged, clearly just as annoyed. I knew she must've been assigned some equally frustrating tasks. That's what we got for having better art skills than half the school. I hated when teachers dragged us into extracurricular activities like this. We were here to study, not decorate bulletin boards or pretty up the school for guests we never even invited. Yet somehow, we were always the ones who had to make the school look perfect.
Dragging myself up from my seat like a zombie, I shuffled out of the class. I was severely sleep-deprived. I hadn't been sleeping well, and even when I tried, I failed miserably. I needed my fake scenarios to lull me into sleep, my daydreams of Karan and me together. I sounded like a love-struck fool, but in reality, I just wanted someone to love me for who I was, chubby, short, brown-skinned, and covered in marks I was too scared to show. I had stretch marks all over my body, and my hands weren't slender or delicate like other girls'.
Every part of me felt like a curse.
"Why me? Why did God choose me to be the ugliest?" These questions constantly haunted me, no matter how hard I tried to block them out. I told myself I was beautiful, that I was worthy of love. But those whispered insults, "fat," "black," always came back, louder than the affirmations. Seeing the girls with fair skin and perfect figures made me doubt myself all over again."You don't deserve love. You're too ugly for it."Even my own family joined the chorus, telling me to work out, to lose weight. I tried. God knows I tried. I spent so many nights crying over it, but nothing ever changed.
In my sixteen years of life, I'd never had a boyfriend. No one ever proposed. I'd watched other girls receive roses and gifts, and a part of me always hoped just once I could be that girl.
I reached the staff room and knocked on the door. A muffled "Come in" came through, and I pushed it open, stepping inside. Priya was already there. And standing in front of her desk, his back to me, was him. Even with just his back turned, I recognized him instantly. My body froze as Karan turned his head toward me, and our eyes met. My knees went weak under his cold, light brown gaze.
It felt like the air was sucked out of my lungs. Our eye contact lasted barely three seconds, but it was enough to burn every shred of composure I had. As I stepped closer to Sanju ma'am and came to stand beside him, my heart thudded so hard I was sure he could hear it. My hand accidentally brushed against his, and I flinched away instinctively, taking a step back before shifting my eyes to the teacher in front of me.
"I'm assigning both of you the decoration duty for the upcoming festival," she began, completely oblivious to the chaos inside me. "Karan's height and intelligence, and your art skills, especially your talent in turning even the ugliest object into something beautiful, make you the perfect team." She smiled, first at me, then at him. "We have one and a half months until the festival. Use this May wisely and work like a good team. I have high expectations from both of you."
And then, just like that, she left. Left me alone in the room with Karan Sharma.
God really loved screwing with me.
I had spent an entire year admiring the boy who now stood beside me. Quietly, from afar. And now? Fate had dropped me right into his world not only once, but again and again. Now, we were partners. For over a month.
"What is your name?" My brain short-circuited at the sound of his voice. Deep, masculine, and smooth like silk. I looked up into his eyes, and the intensity in them made my breath hitch. It felt like he could see into my soul.
"A-Aarohi Singhania," I whispered, barely audible. He leaned in slightly, his face dangerously close.
"I didn't hear you. Repeat it," he said, his tone more like a command than a request. "Aarohi Singhania," I repeated, my voice trembling. He tilted his head slightly and stared right into my eyes, and I didn't even realize when my gaze dropped to his lips. I saw him mouthing my name like he was tasting it, trying it out on his tongue.
He leaned in just a bit more, and I panicked. Taking a hasty step back, I turned toward the door, muttered a quick goodbye, and practically fled from the staff room. My heart was pounding so loudly, I was convinced the entire corridor could hear it.
I was going to work with him. For more than a month. I couldn't even make eye contact without falling apart. the hell was I supposed to work side by side with him? All my efforts to forget him, to move on, were shattered. Maybe God didn't want me to move on.
My steps quickened as I rushed back to class. Diya had to know. She'd been listening to my dramatic rants about this crush since the very beginning; surely, she'd know what to do now.
I entered the classroom and went straight to her, grabbing her wrist. "Come with me," I hissed, dragging her out of the class and toward the girls' washroom. "What happened, Rohi?" she asked, concerned.
"I'm in trouble," I declared dramatically, then began telling her everything, every tiny detail, from the moment I entered the staff room to the way Karan had said my name. I was talking a mile a minute, practically breathless, while she listened with an amused expression.
"You should be happy you're getting time to spend with your crush," she said, clearly confused by my stressed expression.
"I know, and I am happy..." I sighed, leaning against the cold tiled wall."But why does it feel like I'm stepping into a beast's arms?"