Shaurya
Nathan and I stand up from our lounge chairs as the wind blows against my face. "We should probably go inside," he notes, grabbing my glass as he tucks his under his arms. "I know the both of us has gotten a shit ton of homework for tonight."
"Tell me about it," I grumble, pulling the sliding doors open.
Once Nathan steps inside, I close the doors shut as the AC softly blows in the background. The quietness in the apartment brings back great memories in my old home, which it was peaceful and quiet all the goddamn time in that house. Maybe because the house was so huge that one would literally have to call the other person in the house from their cell phone just to communicate with them.
I start to go in the kitchen where Nathan is, and I see him washing the dishes. "I can help you do those," I remark. In our household, it is pretty safe to endure that Nathan is a whole kitchen person, while I'm the one to be lazy and give all the kitchen work to the other person. Nathan raises his eyebrow at me, as if I just asked him to become the president of the United States.
"Yeah, Shaurya," he snorts, aggressively rubbing a plate with an intense amount of soap. "You in the kitchen? What kind of universe am I entering?" he mumbles to himself.
I wince, placing my hand on the counter. "Yeah, now that you think about it, you may be right." Nathan smiles at me as he gestures to the hallway. "Go start on your homework. I know you got the most out of the both of us."
I take a deep breath. "Thanks."
He nods his head. Then, I turn on my heel and strut to the hallway. My laptop and the haunting piles of paper stand on my bed, as if they're whispering to me, 'Coooome work on me, Shaurya, as I give you stress and possibly a lot of anxiety for college! Ooooooh!'
I think that's enough vodka for today.
As I sit down on the bed, I look at the first pile of papers, which is my Economics work. I have to fill these papers out, then do an essay on the differences of macroeconomics and microeconomics. This is definitely gonna keep me occupied for a couple of hours.
I clear my throat, carrying the papers and my laptop to my desk. Placing my phone beside me, I begin writing some terms down as music plays from my speakers. The door suddenly opens, as Nathan peers inside. "You already started?"
"I have to," I breathe out. "I got work that's enough to keep me awake for three centuries."
Nathan chuckles to himself. "Honestly, me too. But if you need me, I'll be in the other room studying."
"Gotcha," I smile.
He closes the door behind him and I lean back against my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. Then, I take a snarky look towards my papers, take an exasperated sigh, and continue to write.
One hour and twenty five minutes, it is safe to say that my hand is demented at this point. I have written so much that I honestly feel like I wrote the first few chapters of Harry Potter. Now, I have to transfer this information down to my essay, which is going to take another hour and a half.
Suddenly, my phone comes into view. It sits there, inches away from me, dying to be used. Taking a deep breath, I grab the phone in my hands. It stares at me with a blank screen, and I press the home button, leading to my home screen.
Tapping on the messages icon, my thumb starts to linger on the new contact button, wondering if I should text her...
The thought of texting Anika has been on the back of my mind ever since I got her number. I don't know why, but it's just lingering there, haunting me to text her and to make the first move.
But what am I going to say? Oh, Anika, I got really bored with homework so I, like, decided to text you and pass time. Ya know, haha?
Very smooth, Shaurya. Very smooth.
Finally pulling my shit together, I press the new contact button, leading to a blank white screen. Then, my hands shake as I jab the plus sign and type in 'Anika.' Her name immediately shows up, and a text messaging screen appears.
Oh, here we go...
I type into the message box:
Me: Hey, Anika! It's Shaurya. I was wondering if you'd like to talk to me for a bit? :)
The smiley-face? Seriously, Shaurya?
My heart starts to pound against my chest, sending my body into complete anxiety. Why is she making me feel this way? Over a stupid text? I never felt this nervous over a girl, especially over a thing like this. What's wrong with me?
The bottom of the text shows up as 'delivered', and now I'm gonna have to wait for her to reply.
Anika
I get out of the shower, my hair dripping water droplets down my back. The towel sits on the towel rack, so I grab it and immediately wrap it around my hair. The mirror has completely fogged up, because I am known as taking the hottest showers on earth, so I wipe it with my hands, giving a clear view of me and my body. Then, once I dry myself and my hair, I wear a dark blue tank top with baggy sweatpants, because why the hell not?
Humming to myself, I get out of the bathroom and hear the TV blaring downstairs, which indicates that my father is home. Great!
Sighing with defeat, I trample down the stairs to see the back of my father's head. His right arm is tucked behind his neck, and his feet are reclined onto the coffee table as he watches some weird excerpt from CNN that supposedly states that there was a McDonalds that got robbed on a shady street in Wisconsin. That things that happen in this country.
"Hey, Dad," I mutter. He quickly lifts the remote, mutes the audio, and turns his head to me, raising his eyebrows. "Hello," his gruff voice answers.
"I..." I clear my throat. "I was wondering what we were gonna have for dinner."
He shrugs. "There's some leftover pizza from last night. Help yourself."
My father arrives from work extremely late, so I just end up eating dinner with him. My mother was known as the cooking extraordinaire in the family, and let's just say that she made bomb ass meals. Like, her raviolis? Magnificent! Her pies? Extraordinary! And her enchiladas? Don't even get me started on those!
I nod my head and walk down the stairs, my feet thumping against the hardwood floor. Opening the fridge, I pull out the box of pizza, close the door, and saunter to the dining table. Once I warm up two slices of cheese pizza and grab a bottle of coke, I sit on the dining table, scrolling through social media, catching up with everyday life.
I hear the TV turn off in the living room and I immediately place my phone down, knowing my father is going to come over here and ask me about college and lecture me about education and whatnot. He walks over, crossing his arms over his chest as he raises his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkles showing. "Did you finish this pizza?"
I show him my half-eaten slice of pizza. "I'm on the second one."
He nods his head, taking a seat across from me. As I take another bite, he said, "So, how's college? Work? You haven't been talking to me lately."
"I'm sorry," I mumble. "I've been busy. But, yeah, it's going pretty good."
"Going pretty good?" he repeats, chuckling. "Come on, Anika. Describe."
I take a deep breath. "Well, I have literature first. The teacher's pretty nice, and I even made a friend in that class," I blurt out without even noticing what the hell I just said.
"Oh, really?" he asks, leaning in a little bit towards me. "Who?" Oh, God.
I nervously clear my throat. "She's," I put emphasis on 'she's,' "A very smart and nice person."
"Wonderful," he nods his head. "What's her name?"
"Sha--" I stutter, mentally slapping myself, "Shaili!" Oh, good job, Anika! You almost told your very strict Indian father that you were friends with a GIRL named Shaurya? You are doing so great at this!
"Uh huh," he squints his eyes at me. I feel my cheeks turning very red, and I clear my throat. "Y-yeah. She's very good at literature. Like, she can read."
"That's good," he replies. "I'm glad you're making friends. Mom would be proud," he adds, looking solemnly to the ground.
"Yeah," I mutter. Suddenly, I almost yelp as my phone vibrates on my lap. The screen lights up and I look down and see--
Holy shit.
My mouth completely dries as I see the text message I just got. What? I... I'm shocked.
Here I am, reading that the Shaurya Roy texted me... that he wants to talk to ME? Holy moly, someone needs to pinch me.
"Ehem," my father grunts out, clearing his throat. "Who was that?"
"Uhmm..." I try to think of an excuse. "It's Shaili. She wanted help with something from class. So is it okay if I go upstairs and... help her with it?"
"Of course," he nods his head. "Just don't stay up too late, okay?"
"Okay," I answer, and it's not even been five seconds and I'm already at my room.
I slam the door shut, my back rammed against it. What the hell am I going to say?
My chest heaves up and down as I walk to my bed. The phone stares back at me with the notification, the text message Shaurya had surprisingly sent me. Pulling my hair back, I take a deep breath, wondering what the hell I am going to say.
Then, my fingers start to move anxiously as I go on the chat. The text stares at me in a horrid gray color, and I take a deep breath as I start to type.
Me: Hey! And of course, I'm just doing my homework here haha.
And with no hesitation, I press the send button. Somehow, I feel a sigh of relief as I see my text message in a royal blue color with the word 'delivered' imprinted in tiny letters at the bottom. My heart hammers against my chest as I suddenly see that there is a box on the left on the screen with three dots moving in a weird way--
Oh shit! He's typing!
I yelp as I immediately swipe out of the chat, my hand placed on my chest as I take deep breaths. Oh God, Oh, God, Oh, God...
Shaurya: Yay! Also, do you wanna FaceTime, if you're free? I don't understand some shit from literature and I would like some help lol.
A smile slowly appears on my face, and I reply back--
Me: Sure! I'll call ya!
I can't believe this. Am I seriously about to FaceTime Shaurya Roy, son of a top-notch businessman?
I run over to my dresser, straightening my hair out and applying a little bit of makeup, so I won't look like an actual zombie. Then, taking a deep breath, I walk to my bed, lay across it and pry open my laptop. I press on Shaurya's contact then jab on the FaceTime button as I hear the ringing.
Then, the words go from 'calling' to 'connecting.' I sigh, my insides bursting with energy as his screen pops up.
Shaurya smiles at me as he seems to be seated in a room, the fan spinning in the background. He leans against his desk, flashing a bright grin. His hair is ruffled on his head as he speaks up. "Hey!"
"Hi," I mutter, smiling back. He glances at his desk and sighs. "You wanna work on this assignment together?"
I nod my head. "We're gonna have to or else I'm gonna fail this thing."
He breaks out in a wide grin, laughing. "Same!" God, why does he have to be so attractive?
As we open up our books, we start off filling out some forms. Then, we work on some questions the professor assigned us, which is a 100 question list that asks the most random questions about Romeo and Juliet.
"Question number one," Shaurya says, "How would one describe the relationship between Romeo and Juliet?"
"Um," I think, placing my pencil on the bed. "Their relationship had a lack of communication. Also, it seemed very forced because they only liked each other based off of looks and lust."
Shaurya raises his eyebrows, as if he's willingly impressed by what I spat out. "Damn, I guess we'll go with that." I smile at him as I jot down the sentence.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" I blurt out. Oh God, did I say that out loud?
He pulls his hair back, clenching his jaw. "Yeah, what's up?"
"Well," I take a deep breath, "I heard that Neil Roy is your father. Is that true?"
He puts his pencil down and leans back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, it is. But I don't really like to talk about it, though. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I know," I wince. "Sorry for bringing it up."
"It's okay," he sighs. "I get it a lot, you know? Like, I don't want someone's definition of me to be 'the son of Neil Roy, the exquisite millionaire and extraordinary businessman of California.'" One side of his lips curl in an upward motion. "I guess I'm kind of used to it at this point, getting compared to my father. And worst of all, I'm expected to follow in his footsteps, and it sucks." He looks at me and his face softens. "Sorry for venting like that. This must be a lot for you to get in."
"Oh, no," I wave off, "It's okay. I get that parents get rough sometimes, and honestly I can relate as well."
"Yeah," he chuckles to himself. "I guess we have came to the conclusion that Indian parents suck."
I laugh, throwing my head back. Shaurya joins in as well, and once we calm down, he takes a deep breath. "So, how has it been going with your parents?"
"Parent," I mutter, looking solemnly to the ground.
"Huh?" He leans into the screen, looking confused. "What do you mean by that?"
I take a deep breath, tapping my pencil on my knee. "It's just me and my father. My mom passed away about a couple of years ago."
"Oh," he breathes out, then he looks at me apologetically. "I'm sorry for bringing it up. I feel like such a dick."
"No, it's okay," I sadly chuckle. "You had no idea."
"Yeah," he whispers. "But, you mind if I ask...?" He trails off, sighing. "You know, how... it happened? Sorry, I get so awkward about these things."
"No, it's alright," I frown. "She..." I take a deep breath. "She passed away due to cancer. I found out when I was about to enter college. And, well, let's just say me and my father were devastated about the news, especially my father. He started to get so stressed, and he was never uptight about anything. In fact, he was the chillest father I've ever seen," I rant. "And it just really confuses me sometimes because one second he gets so soft with me and then another he starts lecturing me about something that doesn't even apply towards me." I take a deep breath. "I guess he was just stress because he was engulfed in hospital bills and just the thought that his wife was going to pass away very soon and that his daughter was going to college. Then, after my mom passed away," I pause, "He got so strict and... torturous," I shudder. "He expects me to be so perfect, and I honestly don't even blame him. He just wants me to be happy, just expresses it in a weird Indian father way."
I look over at Shaurya curiously to see his expression. His lips are slightly parted and his eyes are widened. "Wow," he mutters. "I... I didn't realize that happen."
"Yeah, well, it did," I solemnly reply. "But we moved on. She's just in a better place, away from pain and worry."
"Definitely," he sadly smiles.
I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually feel a little better, talking about my personal issues. Not only does it seem like a whole weight is lifted off my shoulder, but I feel a little better now too because I'm venting about it to a guy... that I possibly may have feelings for.
And for the entire night, it seems, we talked and talked and talked about our personal problems, issues, everything that may have occurred in our lives. Before we knew it, it was almost 3 o' clock. 4 o' clock. Even 5 o' clock. But we didn't get sleepy or tired or anything. We just continued to talk, about our deepest fears and regrets, or our best moments in lives. And talking to Shaurya... man, it's a completely different feeling. Sure, I have Em and Ty, but Shaurya just has this label on him where it expresses that he's an open book and so am I, especially towards him.
But the thing that seems to be on my mind the most is the fact that I don't even hesitate when I express my thoughts to Shaurya. Though, I got to admit, I feel so much better when I do, as if I've been carrying this load on me for my entire life, which I have been. And the years have all been the same: living in misery, drowning myself in books and books and books, and maybe, just maybe...
this year would be different.
*
A/N:
Whoa, this ending was deep af.
So, as we see here, Anika and Shaurya are developing feelings for each other, and I think it's mainly because they are opening up to each other with no hesitation. As Anika mentioned, it's as if they have a label on them that basically screams at them to express their feelings for whomever or whatever.
Stay tuned for the next chapter as you guys experience more unforgettable memories between Shaurya and Anika and maybe even a possible plot twist...
-Ru <3