April 2005

Vikram was pissed at Ruvee for not telling him whatever the truth was supposed to be but he also kind of respected the fact that she didn't get tempted into blindingly spreading gossip just for the sake of the thrill.

Fix this, Ruvee had said to Vikram. But how was that to happen? Aditya wasn't coming to school, Vikram didn't know where he lived and he wasn't even sure if Aditya still worked in the hotel kitchen after Vikram had found him out.

After much contemplation, against his own judgment, Vikram decided that he would find a way to reach Aditya and talk to him. They could be civil about this, right?

To his dismay, which Vikram would never admit, Aditya didn't show up to school the next day either. By now, Ruvee sitting next to Vikram had become a regular thing. And Vikram knew it pissed Shruti off but since she was not talking to Vikram anymore, she couldn't really say anything.

In all the years that Vikram had known Shruti, Vikram was always the one to approach first after fights or arguments or even when it was Shruti who was wrong. It was always Vikram who had to tame himself and go to her and apologize. Not this time though. This wasn't a fight between her and Vikram. It was between Vikram and Aditya and if she wanted to be on the opposite side of Vikram, that was on her. This time, Vikram would not apologize.

"You have to apologize." Ruvee whispered to Vikram when they were halfway into the first period.

"Why the fuck would I apologize to Shruti?"

"Huh?" Ruvee asked in confusion and looked at Vikram's head. "Sometimes I wonder how you are one of the top students at school." she said and hit Vikram lightly on his arm. "I am talking about Aditya. You have to apologize to him."

This was even more outrageous than the previous presumption. Vikram would have laughed his lungs out if there was no teacher in the class. "No, I don't. He brought it upon himself."

"Yes but you crossed a line."

Vikram shook his head, grabbed his pen, opened the last page of his notebook and began stabbing it in anger. "I crossed no line. He stole my clothes..."

Ruvee put a hand up. "Yes, we all know the back and forth going on between you two." She sighed and snatched the pen from Vikram which he was very reluctant to let go of. "I talked to Mr. Jha, okay?"

"And?" Vikram asked, borderline pleading Ruvee.

"And he won't budge. I told him I would partner with you but he was very clear that he wants only you two working together."

"That can't happen. I will either kill him to end up being killed by him."

"That's up to you but if you would like to know, Aditya came to school today."

His eyes shot up in surprise. "He did?"

Vikram felt something strange inside his sternum when he heard Aditya was back. He had no word for that feeling because he had never felt it before but he realized that it wasn't something bad. It was more like a weird flutter that rose and died quickly.

Ruvee nodded. "Turn left." she said and Vikram followed.

And then, Vikram saw him. Running laps in the field was none other than Aditya, in flesh and bone.

When Vikram found Aditya, it was after the school day had been over. He was in the library, borrowing books and thank god he was alone.

Vikram approached slowly like he was testing the waters.

"No novels this time?" Mrs. Sengupta, the librarian asked Aditya and he gave her an empathetic smile.

"No, not this time."

Vikram didn't know what they were talking about until his eyes fell on the books in Aditya's hand and he realized that they were all school books.

"Four is the limit." Mrs. Sengupta said, tapping at the bottom of the library card that had the rules printed on it.

"I need a few more." Aditya said.

"Sorry, Aditya." Mrs. Sengupta said. "Rules are rules."

Aditya clenched the books in his arms tightly but after much contemplation, returned a few he didn't need right away. When he was done, he held the rest of the book close to his heart like they were the most valuable things he had ever held. Vikram's eyes wandered to the make of Aditya's lower arm that exposed veins that were as visible as the frustration on his face.

Vikram couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Aditya took his library card after it was signed by Mrs. Sengupta and was about to leave when Vikram called him out.

"Can we talk?"

Aditya turned around calmly. Vikram could see that he was struggling to keep his anger in check.

When he looked at Vikram, there was no sign of anger or annoyance on his face. It had gone back to being blank. It weirdly reminded Vikram of still water, waiting for stones to be thrown at that created ripples all across the surface. Was Aditya waiting for the same?

"There is nothing to talk." Aditya said and was about to dash when Vikram grabbed him by his arm.

"Aditya..." Vikram said, his voice soft and mellow. "Please." He felt Aditya's hand relax under his touch.

The football player didn't say anything but instead of going in the direction of the exit, he proceeded towards the back of the library and Vikram quietly followed.

Now they stood by the large desk near the 'XYZ' section of the books.

"What do you want?" Aditya asked, placing the books carefully on the desk and looking outside the window.

There were traces of tiredness on Aditya's face and Vikram wondered if he had been overworking himself for the past few days. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face looked thinner than usual.

"Are you okay?" Vikram asked.

There was a weird intensity hanging between them that Vikram had no explanation for.

"What do you want from me?" Aditya asked again.

"Nothing." Vikram said, staggering a little. He had no idea why he was so nervous. Apologizing wasn't that big of a deal. He had done it a million times to Shruti even when he was not at fault, so why was he struggling so much with Aditya? "I wanted to talk about the English project."

Aditya shook his head. "I am still not doing the project with you."

"I know. I don't want to do it with you either but it's not like we have any other choice."

"I don't care." Aditya said.

"It's 25% of the total credit, Aditya."

Almost instantly, something softened on Aditya's face. Vikram wondered why it happened.

"I don't care about the credit or the 25%."

Vikram didn't know how to talk to Aditya and to get him to understand the situation. "You don't care about your 12th score? You don't care about giving up 25% for no reason at all?" He realized his voice was getting higher as he spoke. "Don't you care about your future?"

Aditya looked at him in all his unmoving, emotionless apathy. "I don't."

Vikram blinked. He had not expected this. For as long as he had known Aditya, being the first ranker in class was what he lived for.

"Maybe you don't." Vikram said, "But I do."

"Why?"

Vikram felt flustered. "What do you mean why?"

"Why do you care about the 25%?"

Because he cared for his own future? Because he wanted to beat Aditya fair and square? Because he felt guilty for what he had done? Because he didn't want to be a disappointment to his father any more? There were many reasons why Vikram cared about the 25% but he didn't tell any of this to Aditya.

Instead, he did something he should have known he'd come to regret.

"Listen..." Vikram began, taking his wallet out. "If you're mad at me for your books, here..." he said, handing some money out, "Buy yourself new ones, okay?"

Aditya gave out a laugh, probably the first of what Vikram had seen but it was anything but kind. "Do you think this is it?"

Vikram shook his head and took more money out and placed it on the desk by the books. "I know what I did was wrong but I was trying to get back at you for what you started."

Aditya ran his hand through his hair and a few strands fell on his face. Vikram had never seen his face so up close. Standing there, he had to tilt his head up a little to get a better view of him because although Vikram was 5'10", Aditya was a towering 6'3". He had a slight stubble growing on his chin and above his lips like he hadn't shaved in two-three days. His eyes were a mixture of brown and hazel that seemed lighter in the sun-filled corner of the library.

"Get over this delusion that I started this." Aditya said, bringing Vikram back from his temporary trip to Aditya-land. "It was you who started this when we were at the amusement park."

Vikram sighed. "For the nth time, I didn't do anything on purpose that day. I have acrophobia."

Aditya wasn't buying any of this and Vikram knew it.

"Why were you there then?" Aditya asked. "Why did you come on the ride with us?"

Vikram went silent for a few seconds and Aditya got his answer.

"Stop living in the delusion that Shruti wants to be with you." the football player finally said. "Stop behaving like a kid who cries after being denied candy. Stop acting like money can buy your way into this and stop with your fucking excuses."

With that, Aditya picked his books up and walked away, leaving Vikram kind of embarrassed and kind of... thrilled? He was embarrassed because he had been yelled at and he was thrilled because, well, he had been yelled at by Aditya, someone who rarely showed how he felt on the inside.

All it made Vikram feel was a tingling sensation in his fingers, like he was waiting to touch raw electricity. He knew it would destroy him, but did he care? Vikram laughed to himself. He would have to find out.

Suddenly Shruti was talking to Vikram again. Sometimes he didn't understand her. They had known each other since before they even started going to school together. Shruti's dad, Manoj Chhabra, was the city's top builder and was also Vikram's dad's friend.

Also, they were neighbours. So it was all-natural that they had grown up to be good friends. Except, Vikram thought of her as more than just a friend while she thought of him as something less. And to top that, whatever Aditya had said in the library, stuck with Vikram.

Stop living in the delusion that Shruti wants to be with you. Was it true? Was Vikram really delusional? Would someone like Shruti never be with someone like Vikram?

Pondering in his room, Vikram walked up to the full-length mirror on one corner and looked at himself. At first, he didn't see anything, but then he actually looked and the more he did, Vikram began looking like a stranger to himself.

He wondered if his eyes were too big for this face. And what was up with those freckles? The light brown dots were such a contrast against his pale white skin. No one he knew had them, it was like he was meant to stand at odds with everyone. He hated them and wanted to get rid of them because the more he looked at his own freckles, the more he left like an alien standing out in a crowd of humans.

He assessed himself from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. Were his arms and legs too big for his torso? Sometimes he felt like his hands dangled from his body for no reason at all. Vikram pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt up to his shoulders. He was neither buff nor muscular like Aditya but he still had a lean figure that could be considered as fit, all thanks to the one year of Judo lessons he had taken when he was in the 9th standard. Vikram couldn't do much but he could flip any person of any size flat on the floor because of that.

Vikram let out a heavy breath and pulled his t-shirt over his shoulders before throwing it away somewhere on the floor.

So thin, Vikram thought to himself. He had a flat stomach, flattest of all and they had no traces of abs. He bet if Aditya took his t-shirt off, there would be blocks of abs underneath. Is that what Shruti liked? Abs?

Vikram flexed his arms in front of the mirror. They didn't even form half a bulge.

"What are you doing?" a voice came from the door and Vikram tried to hide in panic but all he did was stumble on his own feet and fall on the floor with a big thud.

Vaibhav, witnessing this debacle, shook his head and walked inside the room. "Are you okay?" he asked but it seemed more like he was trying to control his laugh.

"Yes." Vikram said, standing up and rubbing the back of his head that had hit the floor. "What are you doing here?"

"I was bored of studying and was going downstairs to get something to drink when I saw you strip-teasing in front of the mirror."

Vikram's face flushed in embarrassment. "I was not... strip-teasing." he said, hushing his voice down at the last word.

Vaibhav shrugged and sat down on the edge of Vikram's bed. It was only then that Vikram realized that his brother seemed a little off.

"Is something wrong?"

It was probably the first time he had asked something like this to Vaibhav.

For a split second, Vaibhav looked at Vikram and the latter thought that Vaibhav would cry. He had never seen his brother like this before.

Vaibhav closed his eyes, shook his head and got up. "Nothing." he said before leaving the room just as he had walked in.

Vikram wondered if he should go after his brother and talk to him but he decided against it.

Sometimes, Vikram felt sorry for Vaibhav. As long as general life was concerned, Vikram at least had Shruti and Mohit and now even Ruvee. He had school and teachers and a life that was not a part of this house. Whereas Vaibhav had nothing like that.

Vaibhav had been born with a weak heart and Vikram's dad and step-mother had spent a good amount of their fortune and time in getting him treated. For a good part of his first five years, Vaibhav had spent his time at hospitals. The freckles that Vikram hated were from when they had gone to New Zealand one time for Vaibhav's treatment. He was probably six and Vaibhav was four. While the younger brother spent all his time indoors, Vikram spent all his time outdoors, playing under the sun.

That was also how Vikram's interest in photography developed. He carried the vintage camera with him all the time when he was a child. He would take photos of the beaches and the mountains and whatever he could find. Even at six years of age and when Vikram's hands were barely able to hold the camera properly, he would take photos and ask his step-mother to get them developed only so he could show his brother what the world outside was like.

It was not like Vaibhav wasn't allowed outside the house, but as a kid, he hardly understood his health risks and so, their parents being extra cautious about Vaibhav, prevented all means of him being alone or out without proper supervision. This meant his walks were not supposed to take place beyond the house boundaries, that he was homeschooled, that he was not to play outside the house and unfortunately, that also meant that he had no friends.

Vikram didn't know how and when they grew apart. It was probably when they had come back to India and since Vaibhav was the priority, Vikram had been left with the house help to be raised. And it had come with a price.

As days passed, all Vikram heard from these women raising him was how the woman he called 'mom' was his stepmother, how his own mother had died at childbirth, how Vaibhav was all his parents cared about, how Vikram was being neglected only because he was not his step-mother's own child- like Vaibhav was. And it definitely did not help that whenever his dad did talk to him, it was only about his studies and if he was doing enough or how he had to study more to beat Aditya because no one remembered the 2nd ranker and only the number one got to build empires and rule the world.

It was involuntary, really because Vikram didn't remember when he began to care about pleasing his father. It was probably because he wanted his father to care for him and talk to him like he did with Vaibhav but this also created a vacuum of emotions inside of Vikram, a void where he kept his family, wanting to feel nothing towards them.

He knew they were not bad people, but Vikram had been ignored by his parents for so long that there was no turning back now.

Vikram walked to where his t-shirt lay on the ground and picked it up before putting it on. So much for self-reflection.

His eyes fell on his wallet on the table and it made him think of Aditya. He was sure things would be solved if he gave Aditya money to buy new books. But the rejection hit him like a truck on a highway. What kind of person said no to easy money? What kind of person preferred to work extra hard to buy something someone else had destroyed?

No matter what Vikram did, he was not able to figure Aditya out, and only he knew how much he was dying to. It was a new kind of obsession and the only relief was that it was not hate that he felt now.

Vikram surprised himself when he realized that he actually did not hate Aditya anymore. He still disliked him but it was not as strong as what he had felt before. He could even imagine them casually hanging out- him, Shruti, Aditya and even Ruvee for that matter. The conversation in the library hadn't been as bad as he had thought either. Vikram was convinced that Aditya would punch him through a wall or something but he had not. And the only time he had gotten angry was after Vikram offered him money.

And then he thought about the brief second when Aditya had softened. Twice actually. The first time was when he had held Aditya's arm to stop him from leaving and the second when he had told him that the exam was for 25% of the total credits.

Vikram racked his brains, trying to figure out what the common factor was in both these cases so that he could perhaps use it again to try and talk to him once more. But the more he thought, the more lost he got.

Completely at loss and finding no solution to his problem, Vikram decided to talk to Ruvee about it.

When he arrived at school the next day, Ruvee was already sitting on her side of the seat, next to Vikram's unoccupied one.

"We need to talk." Vikram said as Ruvee moved to let Vikram slide it.

"Did everything go well yesterday?"

Vikram shook his head. "Everything went disastrously."

For the next minute or two, Vikram told Ruvee in details of what had gone down the previous day at the library and Ruvee found herself clutching her head like she was getting a headache.

"I swear Vikram, how?"

"How what?"

Ruvee looked at the top of Vikram's head. "How do you manage to be among the top two students with that broken brain of yours?"

Instinctively Vikram's hands reached his head like he was trying to protect his brain from Ruvee's gaze.

It made Ruvee chuckle a little. "Have you done the chemistry homework?" she asked.

Vikram nodded and handed her his notebook. "So what do I do now?"

Ruvee flipped the page of his notebook until she found what she was looking for and swiftly began jotting it down her own notebook. "Chemistry makes me so angry." she said, and Vikram watched in amusement. "Especially organic chemistry." Ruvee continued. It was like Ruvee was forcing herself to write the homework down.