American library books » Juvenile Fiction » Nothing But Love by Swapnil Patil (summer reading list .TXT) 📕

Read book online «Nothing But Love by Swapnil Patil (summer reading list .TXT) 📕».   Author   -   Swapnil Patil



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Nothing But Love

“ARJUN?” she shouted.

“That’s a strange way of greeting your friend,” he said as he entered the bedroom, “Hey girls!”

“You’re going to Brussels?” she emphasized on each and every word in her question.

“How did you get to know?” he asked her casually, claiming a seat between both of them.

“So you’re really going?” she asked, bemused. Before he could utter a word, she leaned in towards him and gave him a hug. “You’ll go without me? I’ll miss you so much. When are you leaving? And when will you return? Who’s accompanying you? God, I’m going to miss you so much.” She was still hugging him. He smiled. He was enjoying it.

“I’m just going for a week Shriya!” he tried to console her. She nodded, and let a moment pass. The room enjoyed the reign of silence. Arjun looked at Akanksha who was sitting at his right. She smiled. She always did.

“Arjun?” Shriya broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t go!” she said with a face and voice so sad, he believed she would start crying any moment.

“Really?” he asked, confused. “Uh-Okay” he replied with a smile. Within a moment, there were shrieks and laughter, loud enough to shake every single thing present in Akanksha’s house, followed by a dance on the bed obviously put up by Shriya as her two besties kept staring at her.

“See! I told you he won’t go, didn’t I?” she asked Akanksha, who looked at Arjun in disbelief for a long time, and just nodded later. “I’ve got to tell this to your mom too. I’ll be back in five.”

“You aren’t going?” Akanksha asked as soon as Shriya left the room.

“Nope!” he smiled. He leaned across the bed and reached out for her study table and tried to open the drawer. She slapped his hand and kept him from opening the drawer. No one knew what secrets she hid from the world in that drawer. Meanwhile, there were screams and bellows from the adjacent room in Shriya’s voice alone.

“Look at me, Arjun. You can’t just cancel it. It was your dream!”

“It still is. I’m just postponing my dream. And I never really planned to go. I would never picnic without you both. I have already told Mum that I won’t be coming. And it was never a picnic. Mom has a job offer at the University there, and she just wants to find out if it’s worth the move. I just wanted to check how both of you react! And besides, I was supposed to go with my family. But wouldn’t it be better if I get to see Brussels with my besties a few years later, if not now? I hope you and Shriya will come along. Won’t you come Anna?”

Only her family, Arjun and Shriya called her Anna and she liked being called that. Every pet name has a story and Arjun always wondered about the story behind Anna. For some reason, he never asked. And she never told. “But Arjun—”

“It’s okay Anna. Brussels can wait” he winked.

She smiled. “You love her a lot, don’t you?”

“You know the answer, don’t you?” he asked back as a certain sadness took over his eyes. “And,” he said pulling her pastel cheeks, “if I’ll ever leave, that would be never to come back again.” He smiled. But she didn’t hear a word. She was too busy staring at his moist, deep eyes.

 

***

 

The door was closed, but the uproar could be easily heard outside. Hers was the only room located upstairs in the house— quite suggestive of the fact that she was the only child to her (now separated) parents. Even her mother, who was busy working in the kitchen, received the chaotic sound waves from upstairs & shook her head— with a smile although— as she looked up at the analogue clock hanging on the adjacent deep cerulean painted wall, as if a certain realization had dawned on her. September had brought a lot of cold along with the dark monsoon clouds, and as a result, all the windows in the drawing room were shut— including her favourite one.

It was 8 o’ clock and the fixture was about to be kicked off. It was the Manchester derby— Manchester United were scheduled to take on Manchester City in the English Premier League, and two of the craziest ‘United’ fans awaited the epic soccer fiesta in the room upstairs. The preparations for this contest had been long and tiresome, but at the same time, were apt and perfect too. Curtains closed, lights off— the only light in the room was that of the larger-than-life 42” Television set located centrally that connected them to a time zone running four and a half hours behind theirs. Two large porcelain bowls filled to the brim with popcorn and French fries, packets of their respective favourite chips, and a bottle of coke that sat right in the middle of the elliptical table in front of them─ all they thought they would need was present right there.

The referee blew the whistle and the timer positioned in the top right corner of the television set went ticking. “Go Cristiano! Finish ‘em off!” she screamed, showing off her colossal aggression. When most people at school called him Ronaldo, she preferred saying Cristiano. ‘I like the way his name sounds,’ she’d often tell Arjun. While her belligerence was on its peak, he was, on the other hand, much patient and calm— like it was in his blood. “Just don’t give away the possession boys,” was all he could spurt out. Forty-five minutes into the first half, the board was devoid of goals. Two minutes of added time too, proved fruitless. The referee declared half time as both the teams, and both of them, breathed a sigh of relief. Thirsty, he reached out for the bottle of coke, just to find out that it was half empty. He looked at her in disappointment, discontent and disbelief.

“You finished HALF of it? HALF?” his pitch gave the complete idea about his annoyance.

“I was damn thirsty, Arjun, and each time I took a sip, I just craved for one more!” she answered with a cute kitten-like innocence piling up on her already beautiful face.

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well, you were so engrossed. And I thought you would get angry on me if I had disturbed you for such a petty thing” she answered trying to sound as guilty as possible.

“Oh, right. Okay” he said, forgiving her within a moment.

“And that’s why I love you baby” she said.

She was looking at him exactly the way he loved— hazy eyes transfixed on him as if looking through him, head lopsided on her right shoulder, giant annular earrings clanging like a wind chime as they swayed back and forth like a pendulum— bumping into her cheeks occasionally, face resting on the palm of her right hand while the left one being folded supporting the right elbow, a smile developing and stretching to the farthest corners of her face, and a dimple emerging out of nowhere and bejewelling her already endearing smile— she was nothing less than perfection. He didn’t even realize when he had lost his heart to her. He was thunderstruck— not only because of her splendidly divine looks, but also owing to the statement his despairing ears had just analysed.

She puffed-up her eyes. “How was it?” she enquired.

“How was what?” he asked back, petrified.

“The proposal,” she cried, “you silly boy! You think I’ll make a good girlfriend?”

“Yes Indeed!” He smiled at her, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You’re a cutie! You know that?” she said pulling his cheeks. “Can I ask you something Arjun?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever” she said looking into his eyes, “fallen for someone?”

“I— I mean, I’ve never—” he stumbled upon his words.

“You’re dumb, you know” she shook her head.

“WHAT? But why?” his pitch descended exponentially.

“Chuck it. By the way,” she hushed, “do you have feelings for Anna?”

“No! She’s my best friend and—”

“So what you’re trying to say is best friends cannot, or rather, should not fall in love, right?”

“No! In fact—” he started but wasn’t allowed to finish.

“Quick!” she said all of a sudden, “the game has already started,” and all that he was about to say had vanished into thin air.

The red devils seemed more confident this time around. They were mounting a burden of numerous niche passes and even worked out a few delicate crosses. The possession stats of the second half were pretty satisfying as the Reds possessed the ball for a gross 61% of the twenty odd minutes that had ticked, thanks to which, Arjun had completely lost himself to the TV. Shriya was sure the game was on the verge of slowing down for some time looking at the new team strategy. Eyeing the opportunity, she looked at him and gradually lifted the pack of lays that lay resting softly on his palms. She was skilled in this job, enough to succeed without having him noticed. Ten minutes later, he happened to notice that he was trying to find chips in his palms as the pack had already disappeared. He looked at her and smiled, lost in his thoughts and completely failing to notice not only the first and the only goal of the match that was scored by the team he was supporting, but also the ear-splitting celebration his best friend was up to.

 

***

 

He looked around. The class was full. He checked his wristwatch which cried out that it was 9 o’ clock in the morning. He looked at the classroom door that was wide open, giving him a complete view of the corridor and the lush green playground beyond it, thanks to the modest height of the corridor wall. He looked up at the ceiling and stared at the rotating blades of the fan, trying to locate its centre and simultaneously murmured something softly that seemed like a prayer. The fan demonstration-cum-prayer lasted for a few minutes, and he directed his neck and sight back towards the door. His bag pack sat beside him silently, as it performed its duty of reserving the place adjacent to its master, tirelessly.

The classroom was just fine when it came to accommodation. Accommodation─ not space. It was richly spacious─ ample space to roam around, the walls on the either sides of the blackboard breathing calmly thanks to the numerous windows dug through them. The right one was more comfortable, for it had the trees and open air standing outside. However, the left one boasted of the entrance door in its front corner─ the one that would lead her in, and that’s what he was waiting for. He was looking at the trees outside through the window to his right, involuntarily tapping his right foot on the flooring, when he heard someone enter the classroom. He looked at the door, expectations flooding his eyes.

And there she was. Finally. ‘Finally,’ he thought. He smiled at her. She resembled a doll─ a really cute one. Dainty brown pinafore culminating just at her knees, sheltering her bright yellow full-sleeved shirt whose neckline in turn supported a murky brown tie, an equally bright yellow hair-band— the colour of which was in step with that of her shirt— holding her long silky hair in a neat puffy pony-tail that dangled from side to side, a cherry red ‘Nike-MUFC’ wristband which he spotted her taking off the left wrist in no time, the only thing missing was her pair of earrings, making her earlobes appear bleak. ‘How can anyone possibly manage to look this cute?’ he thought, while his eyeballs were still fixed on Shriya. His Shriya.

The teacher scanned her attire with an ‘is-this-the-way-you-come-to-school’ look and checked the clock. Shriya was scared she might be yelled at, but the old lady preferred ignoring her indiscipline and unpunctuality and allowed her inside with a

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