"Do you think I won't notice this change in my son's behavior?" My mom's narrowed eyes, questions the change in my behavior while snatching the bottle of perfume from my hand.
Her constant need to drive out information of certain someone through me goes to vain. How am I supposed to verbalize my emotions just like that, when we aren't clear about our relationship yet.
"Uhh Ahad you've grown to be someone different. When you were in lower grades, you used to tell me everything but now you don't even bother sharing anything with me" I chuckle as she takes her position on my bed with a mock scowl. "C'mon mom you know if there's anything I'll share it with you first"
"Promise" I peer at her through my shoulder and place the hairbrush back on its position. "Promise Mom" I sigh as mom tousles my hair "so who's that girl?" She beams at me and I grasp that it's better to get out of here.
"Better luck next time mom" I chuckle and rush out of the room, for I'm aware that if I stuck around mom any longer, she'd blackmail me into sharing every single thing with her.
The moment I step inside the main lounge, I catch sight of Ayan engaged in his favorite task- irritating Ayzal. He's displaying some pictures that Ayzal seems to be embarrassed from.
She swats his arm, her face twisted in annoyance "Ayan stop irritating me" Ayzal whines, trying to hold back an appearing smile.
"But look at this" Ayan scrolls another picture "you look so beautiful while sleeping..haha... imagine how flattered your crush would be"
"Ahad Bhai!" Ayzal calls out to me the moment she sees me. "Tell him to leave me alone! Tell him to delete the picture" Ayan's phone contains such pictures that if they're leaked, we all would have no where to hide our faces. Once, his phone's storage held no capacity for more pictures, so this man deleted his own pictures but kept ours.
I can't help but chuckle at the sight. "Ayan," I say, stepping closer, "delete the picture now and stop irritating her"
"Uhh traitor first you ignore me, you call someone else jaan and then betray your charming best friend" he pretends to be offended but passes his phone to Ayzal.
"Uhh I'm straight Ayan!" I head to our colossal garage, where my bike is parked. It's been my reliable companion through thick and thin, and today is no different.
I pull on my helmet, feeling the cool leather of my black button-down shirt against my skin, and kick the engine to life.The rumble of the bike beneath me is a comforting sound, a reminder of the freedom I cherish.
I revive the engine and take off down the driveway, leaving Ayan and Ayzal behind, their playful argument fading into the distance.
As I ride toward the university, the wind rushes past me, clearing my mind. The streets blur as I speed through, and for a moment, all the thoughts about my mom's questions start flashing in front of me.
Mom always stressed upon building a trusting relationship between both of us, she presented herself more like a friend than a mother. I've always been a privileged kid in terms of relationships, mom and dad- both share a warm bond with me however, speaking about the past.. well it hasn't been much happening for me.
I've built this strong guy imagine in order to conceal the scars that I've been carrying. As I step into the grounds of our institute, a familiar sense of relief washes over me, like a blossom touched by the first hint of spring after enduring the harshness of autumn.
Because I know, if I'm autumn then she is my spring. If I'm despondent, then she is my hope. If I'm defeated, then her smile is my victory.
I'm so in love with Hoorain shah, my eyes haven't met hers and yet, I'm flattered by the thought of being in the same place as her.
Getting off my bike I make my way to her class instead of my own. Why? Because I'm crazily in wish to see her.
As I walk into Hoorain's class, the room hums with quiet focus. Everyone is glued to their computer screens, fingers dancing over keyboards. My eyes scan the room, searching for her, and then I spot her.
There she is-Hoorain Shah, sitting at her desk, typing something furiously, a small smile playing on her lips. That smile alone is enough to melt away any lingering tension in my chest. I take a moment to just watch her, marveling at how her presence seems to brighten even the dullest of places.
Unable to resist, I quietly make my way over to her. She's so engrossed in her work that she doesn't even notice me approaching. I crouch down beside her desk, leaning in just enough to get a glimpse of what she's writing.
The words on the screen catch my eye, and without thinking, I read them out loud in a low voice, "He grips my throat tightly while pinning me next to the wall."
Hoorain jumps in her seat, her eyes widening in shock as she snaps her head to the side, her gaze locking with mine. For a split second, she's frozen, staring at me like I've just caught her doing something she shouldn't. Her scent, a mix of something floral and sweet, fills the space between us, and I can't help but inhale deeply.
I raise an eyebrow, smirking as I murmur, "You want me to do that?"
Her face turns a deep shade of pink, and she slams the laptop shut with an embarrassed squeak. "Ahad! What are you doing here?" she stammers, quickly getting up from her chair.
Still grinning, I let her grab my hand and drag me out of the classroom, my heart racing at the contact. She's trying to hide her embarrassment, but the way she avoids my eyes only makes her more adorable.
Once we're out in the hallway, she finally lets go of my hand and turns to face me, her cheeks still flushed. "Why did you come?" she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.
I lean against the wall, crossing my own arms with a satisfied smile. "I couldn't resist. Besides, I was curious-what exactly are you writing in there?"
She huffs, looking away. "It's just a scene for my book. And for your information, it's not what it sounds like."
"Oh? And what does it sound like?" I tease, taking a step closer to her.
She rolls her eyes, finally meeting my gaze with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "It's a thriller, okay? And that scene... well, it's just a tense moment between the protagonist and the villain. Nothing more."
"Sure, sure," I nod, still grinning. "But seriously Hoor what could possibly be the thought behind this.... amazing scene"
She narrows her eyes playfully, a smile tugging at her lips. "Ahad..um.. just forget about it naa" I silently chuckle and pull her chubby cheeks.
"Iss Tarah kahogi to pura Ahad qurbaan AP par"
(If you talk like this, then complete Ahad is devoted to you)
Her expression softens at that, and for a moment, we just stand there, the teasing forgotten. There's something about being close to her that makes everything else fade away, leaving only this bubble of warmth and contentment. But again she narrows her eyes and reminds herself that she isn't supposed to be softening this moment "bohot besharam horahe ho"
(You're getting really shameless)
"And you're irresistible, Hoorain Shah" I reply, my voice dropping to a whisper. "What can I say? You bring out the best in me."
She huffs and rolls her eyes "stop flirting or else you're not getting away with it"
I peer around my surroundings and utter "who wants to get away?"
She huffs and starts to walk away from me pretending to be angry. As we walk down the hallway, I can't help but chuckle at how cute Hoorain looks trying to maintain her stern facade. She's got her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her steps a little quicker than usual, as if she's trying to put some distance between us. I know she's not really mad, just pretending to be upset, but the way she's doing it is both adorable and endearing.
Her lips are pressed into a firm line, but I can see the way she's struggling to keep her expression neutral. Every so often, she glances back at me, probably to see if I'm still following her, and each time she does, I give her my best apologetic look.
"Hoor, come on," I call out softly, quickening my pace to catch up with her. "Don't be mad at me. I was just having a little fun." She doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down. Instead, she huffs and quickens her pace even more, her shoes clicking sharply against the floor. "Fun Ahad? You embarrassed me in front of the class and weren't even apologetic about it"
I can't help but smile at how serious she sounds. She's so strong-willed, so determined to keep up this act of being upset with me, and it just makes me want to tease her more. But I also know when to back off-at least a little.
This little, blue eyed, chubby girl has me wrapped around her little finger.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you, I swear," I say, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "I just couldn't resist. You were so focused, and I... well, I missed you."
She gives a little shake of her head, still not looking at me, but I catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. I know I'm getting to her, even if she won't admit it. By now, a few students in the garden have started to notice us. I can feel their eyes on me, the so-called 'bad boy' of the campus, trailing after Hoorain like a puppy dog. It's probably a sight they never expected to see, and I don't care one bit. Let them stare. I'm too focused on getting Hoor to smile again. "Hoorain," I try again, reaching out to gently touch her arm. She pulls away before I can, pretending to be even more upset. "Hoor I'm willing to do sit ups as well. Just smile at me please"
Finally, she stops, turning around to face me with that fiery look in her eyes that I've come to love.
Would you?
I bite back a smile and give her an assuring nod.
Anything to make you smile, just name it.
She crosses her arms again and shrugs her shoulder.
I'd like to see you try.
As I watch her cross her arms and raise an eyebrow, challenging me, I can't help but feel a surge of pride. She's come so far from the shy girl I first met, and seeing her embrace her confidence makes my heart swell with affection.
I smile playfully and, without warning, gently grab my ears, starting to do sit-ups right there in the middle of the garden. "Whatever your order is my Hoor"
Hoorain's eyes widen in surprise, and then she bursts into laughter, the sound ringing out like music. "Ahad, stop! I wasn't serious!" she exclaims, hurrying over to me.
But I keep going, grinning up at her with each rise. "You said you wanted to see me try," I tease, feigning innocence. "And I take your challenges very seriously."
She laughs again, her laughter filling the space around us, and I can see the tension in her posture melting away. "You're unbelievable," she says, shaking her head as she reaches out to grab my arm, pulling me up to stop my ridiculous sit-ups.
As I stand, I can't resist leaning in closer, my tone softening. "Unbelievably in love with you, maybe."
She blinks, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, and I can see she's trying not to let her smile get any wider. "You're... you're impossible" she mutters, but her voice is soft, and there's no real bite to her words.
I straighten up, still holding her gaze, and brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe. But if it makes you smile like that, I'd do it all over again."
She tilts her head slightly, her expression softening as she looks up at me. "You don't have to do anything silly to make me smile, Ahad. Just being with you is enough."
I release a sigh accepting that it's time to move forward. I can't stay oblivious and continue charming her. I need to tell her that she isn't just a fling for me, I intend to make her more than just my university love, I need to make my intentions clear.
"Hoor?" I murmur, holding both of her hands as a wave of emotion washes over me, one that I can hardly name but feel deeply.
"Yes, Ahad?" she replies softly, her eyes locked onto mine, curiosity and something more lingering in her gaze.
I take a deep breath, my voice dropping low and intense. "Hoor," I begin, trying to convey the depth of what I'm feeling, "from the second your hot coffee burned my chest and your blue eyes met mine, I knew you had captivated me in a way I'll never be able to free myself from." I chuckle, the sound tinged with vulnerability, as I struggle to find the right words. "I can't ever convey how much I love you; it's impossible. It's like trying to describe the beauty of a sunset to someone who has never seen the sky."
I pause, trying to keep my emotions in check, but the words keep spilling out. "I love you with a love as deep as the ocean and as boundless as the sky. A love that will never fade, never waver-a love that will last a lifetime. I love you with the intention of making you Mrs. Ahad Sikandar."
Her eyes start to glisten with unshed tears, and I gently cup her face, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. "But I know...I don't deserve you yet," I say, my voice filled with sincerity. "I want you to wait for me, Hoor, until the day I become someone you'd be proud of, someone worthy of being your partner. Will you...will you wait for me, Hoor?"
Her nod is almost imperceptible, but it's there, and it fills me with the happiness I've never known. Unable to contain my joy, I reach the side and pluck a small flower from a nearby bush. With a grin, I carefully wrap its delicate stem around her finger.
"So...we're dating?" she asks, a playful glint in her eyes as she admires the makeshift ring.
I nod, my heart swelling with affection. "For now, yes. But this is a lifetime commitment, Hoor."
She looks down at the flower wrapped around her finger, her expression softening into one of pure, genuine delight. "This is so beautiful...more than any jewelry," she whispers, and I can see how much she treasures the simple gesture. Her genuine reaction makes me fall for her even more.
But then, she suddenly scrunches her nose cutely and says, "Oops, but we're not dating yet."
I blink in surprise, my brows furrowing. "What? Why?"
With a mischievous grin, she tilts her head. "My girls haven't approved of you yet."
I can't help but laugh, her playful nature only makes me love her more. "Okay, ma'am," I say, playfully saluting her. "I'll make sure to impress your girls first. Though, Naya is already on my side."
She giggles, the sound light and carefree, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world just hearing it. "Well, you still have three more to go."
"Challenge accepted," I reply, beaming down at her. "I'll win them over, one by one. Just wait and see."
She gives me a look filled with so much warmth and affection that it makes my heart race. "I'll be waiting, Ahad" she says softly.
As I stand there with her hands in mine, and the image of my flower ring wrapped around her finger. I can't help but marvel at my fate, the Ahad I used to be has the privilege of calling her mine is something I'll never get over with. I'm hers and that's all I need to know for a living.
â¯â¯â¯â¯
HOORAIN'S RING
â¯â¯â¯â¯
After a distracted weekend, I finally got the chance to get back to my routine. Same old books, and hands not growing tired from continuously jotting down notes.
It's basically our allocated free time by our professor, when everyone else is engaged in conversations and phones, I prefer the company of numbers and coefficients.
I'm aware that investing hours of focus to solve a single numerical, all I'd get to hear is 'you're born genius and please send us your notes', no one actually pays attention to how I starved my body, skipped parties and heard taunts to reach this spot.
I'm already struggling to find the answer but of course Harmain found it impossible to distance herself from me, therefore she arrives to disturb my serene time.
"Uh nerd always engrossed in books" she sits beside me, flipping her curly hair. I can't grasp what exactly she feels after constantly pushing me down? "Better than being a pick me girl always engrossed in boys" I retort back, I hate how she manages to get a reaction out of me every single time.
"Oh c'mon Ayra you know you must've imagined yourself in a lehenga, walking down the aisle, to hold someone's hand"
I roll my eyes and frustratingly place my pen down, my gaze travelling towards her. I can't comprehend why some girls have limited themselves to such fantasies, I mean there's nothing wrong in dreaming about marriage but revolving your entire life around it is something I can't relate with.
"The only thing I imagine myself is in a business suit, walking up on a stage receiving awards. Our priorities differ"
Being called a successful businesswoman is what I'll always choose over being called babe. If I talk about myself, then I can't see why anyone would fall for me? I'm simply... difficult to love.
"Now if you'll excuse me I was doing something really important" staying true to her pathetic behavior, Harmain jerks my pen and blesses me with her absence. I'm building images of strangling her but that won't be a sensible idea for now.
I exhale frustratingly and crouch to pick up the pen, but before my fingers could feel the cold exterior of the pen, it brushes with a strong hand instead. As I glance upwards, my eyes meet with a pair of dark eyes; guarded by rectangular specs.
Zaid grabs the pen and slowly presses its tip against my head, clicking it open. I groan, preparing to unleash a barrage of curses on him, but he rolls his eyes and promptly scribbles in the notebook.
I watch in disbelief as Zaid scribbles away in my notebook, his focus unwavering, his movements almost casual, as if he's done this a thousand times before. The audacity of this guy knows no bounds. My frustration simmers just beneath the surface, ready to boil over, but I hold back, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose my cool.
He finally finishes, lifting the pen from the paper with a smug grin, and leans back in his chair as if he's just performed a miracle. He casually tosses the pen onto the desk, the click of it landing somehow even more infuriating than the rest of his actions.
"Problem solved," he says with a smirk, his voice dripping with arrogance. "That was easier than I thought. Maybe you should try paying attention in class, Ayra. It might help."
"Don't you have better things to do other than to stick your nose in my business?" my eyes narrow into the slit as I snatch my notebook back, my voice sharp with irritation. No matter the time I've repeated this but I hate Zaid Mirza. "You're just trying to prove that you're smarter than anyone else, genius"
He smirks, shoving his hand inside the pockets of his pants "what's there to prove in it Ayra? I know I'm smarter" He tilts his head, his dark eyes gleaming with that infuriating mix of amusement and superiority. "If you ever need a tutor then I'm available"
I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. "I'd rather fail than accept help from you"
Before he can muster a cutting retort, the classroom door swings open, and Dr. Williams strides in, holding a stack of papers that instantly commands the attention of every student in the room. The tension in the air thickens as we all recognize the familiar sight-the results of our latest test.
My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum. I've always been confident but this feeling gnaws at me before every result announcement. Maybe it's because I know Zaid will be comparing our scores, scrutinizing every decimal point to determine who came out on top.
I glance over at him, sitting in his usual spot with that calm, collected demeanor that I both loathe and again DESPISE. He catches my eye, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a slight, almost imperceptible smirk. It's like he knows he's already won, and it makes my blood boil.
Dr. Williams begins handing out the papers, his expression neutral as he moves from one row to the next. The classroom is silent, the only sounds the shuffling of papers and the occasional creak of a chair. My palms are clammy, and I wipe them on my dress, trying to steady my nerves.
As he approaches my desk, I brace myself, unwilling to let any emotion show. He places the test face down in front of me, and I hesitate for a split second before flipping it over.
99.2
The number stares back at me, taunting me with its nearness to perfection. Most people would be ecstatic with a score like this, but to me, it feels like a failure. I can't help the sinking feeling in my stomach, knowing it's not enough. Not enough to beat him. Mom's expectations and everything?
From the corner of my eye, I see Zaid turn his paper over. I don't need to look to know he's beaten me. The energy in the room shifts slightly, a ripple of anticipation as everyone waits to see the scores of the two rivals.
Zaid leans back in his chair, his eyes flicking to my paper, and I see the triumphant glint in his gaze.
99.5
He says nothing at first, just leans back in his chair with that infuriatingly self-assured expression, one that makes me want to rip the paper into shreds and throw it in his face.
"Well, well," he finally drawls, his voice low enough that only I can hear. "Looks like I'm still on top. Better luck next time, Ayra."
His words are like a match to dry kindling, sparking a fire of frustration and anger inside me. I can feel my composure slipping, the careful mask I've held in place all day starting to crack under the weight of his smugness.
"Don't get too comfortable," I snap, my voice sharper than I intend. "It's not over yet."
Zaid chuckles softly, the sound grating on my nerves. "Oh, I'm not worried," he replies smoothly. "I know you'll give it your all, just like you always do. It's almost...endearing."
I glare at him, hating how he can turn even the simplest comment into something patronizing. "Don't mistake my hard work for anything other than what it is," I retort. "I'm here to win, Zaid, not to play nice."
He tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. "Oh I'm still waiting for you to win Ayra? What if you lose?"
"I won't" I say through gritted teeth, refusing to let him see how much his words are getting to me.
Zaid's smirk widens, his gaze never leaving mine. "Not when I'm your competition shaikh"
The casual arrogance in his tone is the final straw. The frustration, the anger, the bitterness of losing by such a small margin-it all boils over. Before I know it, my hands are shoving the chair in front of me with a force that sends it clattering to the ground. The sound echoes through the room, drawing startled glances from my classmates.
I don't care. I can't stand to be in the same room as him for another second.
Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm out of the classroom, my footsteps echoing in the silence. I don't stop until I reach the washroom, pushing the door open and positioning myself in front of the mirror.
It feels like my reflection is disappointed of my own self. My hands tremble, the weight of disappointment weighing heavy on my chest. The cool, sterile environment of the washroom did little to soothe the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I lean against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror, trying to force back the tears that threatened to spill.
99.2 the number flashing before my eyes, taunting me. I had worked so hard, gave my everything- yet- this is what I get? My trembling escalates as the image of mom comes in my view, thw words she'll utter, the way she'll call me a disappointment. I clench my fist, feeling a tightness in my chest that I can't shake.
Why wasn't it enough?
My breaths begin to come faster, shallower. I hear the rush of blood in my ears, the way my heart pounds as if trying to escape from my ribcage. The tightness in my chest grows, spreading like a vice, and I realize with a jolt of panic that I'm starting to hyperventilate.
"No... not now..." I whisper to myself, but my body isn't listening. I should've known better, asthma has always been my worst enemy and currently, the attack is proving my point.
I try to take a deep breath, but it's like breathing through a straw-no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get enough air. My vision blurs, the white tiles around me twisting as my breathing becomes erratic.
Mom's going to be so disappointed... The thought echoes, making the panic spike, twisting the knife deeper. I'm such a failure... I feel like I've proven my dad right, that a daughter would've remained a liability on him, the only reason he chose his son and left us.
My grip on the sink tightens, my knuckles turning white as the tightness in my chest becomes unbearable. The room tilts, and I feel lightheaded, my legs wobbling beneath me. My breaths come in desperate gasps now, quick and shallow, each one more painful than the last.
I stumble back from the sink, my back hitting the cold tiles as I slide down to the floor. I try to remember the breathing exercises, try to calm myself, but my mind is a fog of fear and self-loathing.
The cold, clinical washroom seems to close in on me, every muscle in my body tensing, shaking uncontrollably. I close my eyes, wishing it would stop, wishing the world would stop spinning out of control.
I curl up against the wall, pressing my back into the cold tiles, fighting to regain control, to find a breath that doesn't feel like it's tearing me apart from the inside out. But the panic has its grip on me now, and I feel powerless to stop it.
Suddenly, the door opens revealing Inaya. Her presence is a lifeline It has always been my girls. As soon as she sees me crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath, she curses softly under her breath and rushes to my side.
Without hesitation, she pulls my inhaler from her bag and quickly hands it to me. "Here, Ayra, take deep breaths. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here with you," she says in a calm, reassuring voice, even though I can see the worry in her eyes.
I fumble with the inhaler for a second before managing to take a deep breath, the familiar medicine working its way through my lungs, gradually loosening the tightness in my chest. The suffocating pressure starts to ease, and I focus on the sound of Inaya's voice, grounding myself in the moment.
"That's it... just breathe... You're okay..." she whispers, her hand resting on my shoulder, offering silent comfort. I close my eyes and take another slow, deliberate breath. Gradually, my breathing steadies, and the panic recedes, leaving behind only the remnants of fear and exhaustion.
"What happened Ayru? What triggered your attack?" I shake my head, trying to push back the tears that threaten to spill over again. "It's just... everything. The test, my score... I worked so hard, Inaya. I thought... I thought I did everything right. But I only got 99.2. Zaid... he got 99.5. And I just keep thinking about how disappointed my mom will be. I feel like such a failure..."
Inaya's expression softens, and she moves to sit beside me, leaning against the wall. "Ayra, you're not a failure. You're brilliant. And besides, 99.2 is an amazing score. But you know what? There might be a mistake. Did you recheck your test?"
Her words plant a small seed of hope in me, one that I hadn't considered. "No... I haven't. I was so caught up in the disappointment, I didn't even think to double-check."
Inaya nods encouragingly. "Then let's go and recheck it. Dr. Williams is still here, right? If there's a mistake, we'll find it. And even if there isn't, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You're amazing, Ayra. Don't let this get to you."
We make our way to Dr. Williams' office, my heart is pounding with nerves, but Inaya's presence is a steadying force beside me. When we reach his door, I hesitate for a second before knocking. Dr. Williams opens the door, looking up from his papers. "Ayra, is everything alright?" he asks, noticing the tension in my expression.
I take a deep breath and step forward. "Dr. Williams, I was wondering if I could recheck my test. I think... I think there might have been a mistake." He raises an eyebrow but nods, gesturing for us to come in. "Of course. Let me pull up your paper."
I watch anxiously as he retrieves my test and begins to review it, carefully going over each question and my answers.
The silence in the room is almost unbearable as I stand there, wringing my hands, waiting for the verdict. Finally, he pauses, and I see his eyes widen slightly as he looks at the last question.
He adjusts his glasses and turns to me with a surprised expression. "Ayra, it seems there was indeed an error in the grading. You didn't score 99.2. You actually scored a perfect 100. My sincerest apologies for this oversight."
I feel the breath leave my lungs in a rush, my heart soaring with a mix of relief and disbelief. "A... a hundred?" I repeat, hardly daring to believe it. Dr. Williams nods, looking genuinely apologetic. "Yes, Ayra. Congratulations. You're the highest scorer in the class. I'll correct this mistake immediately."
Inaya beams beside me, squeezing my arm excitedly. "See? I told you, Ayra! You're amazing!" I finally allow myself to smile, the weight lifting from my chest. "Thank you, Dr. Williams. And thank you, Inaya... I don't know what I'd do without you."
With a grateful nod to Dr. Williams, I turn to leave the office, Inaya by my side. The weight of disappointment is gone, replaced by a sense of pride and relief. I didn't just do well-I did the best. And that's all I could have asked for.
I tightly secure Inaya into my embrace, hardly letting her draw a breath "I love you girls so much"
I'll never count myself into emotional beings, but these girls always pushes me to react opposite. I don't know what I'd do without them? They've provided me with love and support, I never knew I needed.
I never pondered to get such a reaction out of Ayra. I knew that she would react furiously if I kept pushing her buttons further but this much...nope..never thought that.
I can't get her out of my mind, the way she just... exploded like that. The image of Ayra shoving the chair and storming out of the classroom replays in my head as I wander down the hallway, trying to shake the unease gnawing at my insides. She's never been one to lose her cool, not like that. And it bothers me more than I care to admit. Where did she even go? The thought loops in my mind as I walk aimlessly, scanning the corridors for any sign of her. It's not like Ayra just disappears, especially after a confrontation like that. We're rivals, sure, but something about seeing her like that... it felt wrong.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway. I pause, my gaze snapping to the end of the hallway just as Ayra appears, her usual composed self restored, except... there's something different. She's holding a piece of paper in her hand, and there's a gleam in her eyes that's unmistakable.
Oh, here we go.
She walks toward me, and I notice her steps are lighter, more confident than they were earlier. I raise an eyebrow, trying to decipher her expression. Whatever she's got in her hand, it's clearly good news. For her, anyway.
"So Mr genius" she calls out, her voice steady as she approaches. There's a smirk tugging at her lips, and I instantly know I'm in for it.
"Yes Academic worm" I reply, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against the wall. "Looking for chairs to throw?"
She stops in front of me and holds out the paper with a flourish. "Oh definitely no, just reminding someone that I got a perfect score of 100 out of 100"
I blink, momentarily stunned. "Wait, what?"
She nods, her grin widening as she waves the paper in my face. "That's right. Dr. Williams made a mistake with my grading. I'm the top scorer, Zaid. One hundred. Beat that."
I stare at the paper, then back at her, unable to believe it for a second. She's serious. "You... got a hundred?" I repeat, the words sound not so foreign but act like it, I know Ayra has the potential to beat me but now.. it's not fathomable.
She crosses her arms, mirroring my earlier posture, and tilts her head, clearly enjoying the moment. "That's what I said. Looks like your little 99.5 doesn't seem so impressive now, does it?"
I adjust my glasses, studying her test with every ounce of focus. This can't be happening.. she can't possibly get a higher score then me? Especially for this one, I made sure to tick all right answers.
"Studying it won't change the fact that I won and you lost Zaid"
Her hand makes it's way to her bag and I know what she's up to. She fishes her phone out of her bag and captures a memorial selfie of her and this test, I wait for the ding of notification in my phone. It's a silly ritual that we've grown related to, after every test, the highest scorer sends an insulting clip or a selfie to other person's insta..and trust me.. nothing is more insulting than that.
"In your words again Zaid Mirza, better luck next time. Text me if you want a tutor but, you know what, I don't tutor incompetent students so I hope you get your better luck.. NEVER"
she flips her hair and walks through the hallway without sparing me any chance to retort. I silently chuckle, and select the recent selfie of her out from the pool of other insulting videos, she purposefully kept the 100 closer to screen.
Ok this is getting good now, winning once doesn't mean you'd always win Ayra Shaikh.
My phone rings again and a glance speaks to me that it's my mother calling me.
Before I can plot my next move, my phone buzzes in my hand. A glance at the screen tells me it's my mother calling. I sigh, bringing the phone to my ear. "Yes, Mom?"
"Zaid" she begins in that sweet, yet no-nonsense tone of hers, "I want to talk to Ayra" I recheck my phone to make sure this is my mom who has called, why would she want to talk with Ayra. "Uh, what? Mom what do you want from her"
"That's not important. What's important is that you give her the phone. I want to talk to her."
I nearly choke on my own breath. "What? Mom, how am I supposed to-" I know the entire residents of our mansion liked Ayra way too much, my Mon and dad topped that list but, calling me to give her the phone that's totally ridiculous.
"Just do it, Zaid," she cuts me off, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument.
Rolling my eyes, I groan internally. This is not happening. Not only do I have to call Ayra, but now I have to be the messenger boy for my mother. Great.
I clear my throat and call out, "Ayra!"
She stops in her tracks, turning slowly, an eyebrow raised as if to ask, "What now idiot?"
"Uh, my mom wants to talk to you," I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. If I told her anything else, she would've insulted me and rushed away like always.
Her eyes widen slightly, but she quickly masks it, walking back toward me. "Your mom?" she repeats, clearly puzzled.
"Yeah," I sigh, handing her the phone. "She's... expecting you." God this feels so embarrassing to even say it but no one can explain their point of view to a brown mom..my dad failed to do so.
Ayra takes the phone cautiously, placing it against her ear. "Hello, Aunty," she says, and to my utter shock, her voice is suddenly sweet, almost saccharine. "Yes, this is Ayra... Oh, it's so nice of you to ask... Yes, I'm doing well, thank you."
I watch, dumbfounded, as she continues to speak to my mother with a tone I've never heard her use before. Is this the same girl who was just taunting me with a smug grin not two minutes ago? Mere sath to baat karte hue madam Kay munh se aag barasti hai.
After a few more moments of this surreal conversation, she hands the phone back to me, her expression neutral. "Your mother got my number" she says, and for a second, I think she might actually be... pleasant?
But the moment passes, and her smirk returns as she flips her hair again. "You know, Zaid, your mom and dad are really nice Tum DNA test karwalo shayad kachre se utha kar layein hai tumhe"
I narrow my eyes, feeling my frustration rise again. "Oh kachra to tumhara ghar hoga na Ayra?"
"Ahh shut up"
As I watch her retreating figure, still holding the phone, I can't help but feel some difference in the air, as if the doors to something unwanted have left opened. Like something is about to change which I can't quite know yet.
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Hey guys I hope y'all are doing fine and well.
I know that this chapter wasn't much about couple thing but mainly this is what I wanted to convey through this book.
Some of you might think that Ayra is overreacting, but every over achieving academic person would relate with her character. There's a lot more to her past and character so stay hooked.
Thankyou for the love and support you've been showing, I couldn't be more grateful for that.
Also I've left a hint of upcoming plot twist in this chapter, guess if you can ðððð»ââï¸
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I've been seeing your edits on this book and I must say y'all are really good at itð thankyou to everyone.
Do share what you wish to read on this book in upcoming chapters?