01: saccharine

The sky was the bluest Nila had ever seen. There were no clouds in sight, allowing the sunlight to filter in seamlessly and burn her toes that were peeking out her sandals that she had bought only yesterday from a 50% sale. It looked pretty on her feet, matching her green kurta and white-washed blue jeans. If she ignored the tan that she was going to be rewarded with later and the subtle bite at her pinky toes, she could consider the sandals a pretty good investment. Nila glanced up from her toes, hearing the familiar screech of a bus coming to a halt. The bus wasn't the one she was supposed to get on but the empty seats were tempting her and making her wish it was.

Nila rocked on her feet, waiting for her bus, the popular and people-loving 29X. She hated that bus because it was almost always crowded. Getting an empty seat was like getting to see Rajnikanth on the streets of Chennai – which was never. You would ask, then why does she take the bus? Well, buses weren't Nila's favourite mode of travel but to keep her bank account alive and thriving, it was a significant sacrifice she had to make.

It had been three years since she moved to the city and taking buses had become an essential part of her life. From the PG she had been staying in before, it took two buses and a share-auto to get to her college. Along with four of her friends, Nila had now rented a flat a little closer, reducing one bus in the equation. It might not look much but the difference it made was tremendous.

There was an old couple giving her silent company in the bus stop and she prayed she would get a bus in the next two minutes, because after that a storm of school kids would be fighting with her to get in the bus first. But, ha, of course, Nila was never lucky. The kids crowded around the bus stop, noise and chatter hanging over the area like a pesty grey cloud. The high school boys would sometimes say Hello to her, trying to make friendly conversations but she would reply with a scowl. If only they would be friendly enough to willingly offer their seats to her on the bus.

While Nila was distracted thinking of a plan to get rid of these kids, she sensed the crowd stepping forward, suddenly abandoning their conversations about that pretty teacher in science class and the upcoming tests. This was a sign — a sign that a bus was coming. She craned her neck and found it to be 29X, her very own dear bus. But the fact that it was slanting towards the side, like a man drunk off his wits, made her heart sink. If the road was water and that bus was a boat, it would have sunk ten hours ago. But it was the last bus in a while. She had to get on it otherwise she would have to be late for college. And Nila hated to be late.

Steeling herself and forgiving herself for her rudeness in the upcoming few minutes, she pushed through the crowd, holding her totebag close to her hips. Excuse me, Excuse me, Excuse me, she chanted loudly as she swam through the crowd and somehow got first in line to get inside the bus.

As soon as the bus halted and the door yawned open, she climbed in, almost slipping from the step as someone pushed from behind. Not a chance, loon, she muttered to herself and pulled herself up, scanning for a free space to stand. Just as she grabbed an empty space, the doors closed shut and the bus moved, throwing her forward.

She was going to die. Or face-plant into someone's lap or back. Just as she braced herself for the impact and the string of curse words from the people around, a hand shot out from somewhere and caught her arm.

The grip was gentle yet firm, strong enough to not make her topple forward. Catching her chest, she looked up and met chocolate brown eyes. They belonged to a sculpted face, a handsome handsome face with a neat stubble on his jaws, so in contrast with the unruly mop of curly hair on his head. As soon as her gaze dropped to his lips, the band of heat around her arm disappeared. He cleared his throat and looked away, his hand going to his shoulder to haul his backpack higher.

"Um, thanks," she said, giving him a small smile and holding the railing next to him. She was pressed close to him, her height allowing her to face his chest, which was clad in a navy blue t-shirt under a black and blue flannel overshirt.  He looked around her age, give or take a year. The guy glanced at her again but he didn't say a word. He didn't have to because the way he looked at her was enough to make her smile vanish. His gaze was accusing. As if she had voluntarily chosen to get propelled forward towards her death. As if she had done that to annoy him and personally taken charge of turning his life into a nightmare.

How rude, she thought, fuming on the inside. Nila ignored how his woodsy scent overpowered her berry fragrance, enveloping her in his arrogant addicting perfume. She had to move away from this guy as soon as possible otherwise he'd pass on his grouchiness to him as well. Thankfully, the bus conductor barked at her to get a ticket, making her fumble in her tote bag for change. Dealing with rude conductors wasn't something she'd usually be grateful for but man, this douchebag next to her took the crown today.

She fished out the change and exchanged it for a ticket, after which she kept an eye for an empty space to stand. As soon as the next stop came and the lady with jasmine flowers on her head got down, she took her spot, throwing a defiant glance at the douchebag. He didn't bother to look her way, which was good. After a few more stops, hers came. She got down and as the doors shut after her, she locked gazes with the guy who was now looking at her through the glass door. She glared at him back till the bus moved on, so tempted to give him the middle finger.

What a douchebag.

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"What's the point of looking smoking hot if you are a rotting cold-hearted man on the inside?"

"You know, that's how most men are. At least the ones in books and movies. They are incredibly grouchy and sexy at the same time that women don't know what to do around them except to fall for them. It's the biggest trope in romance novels — grumpy and sunshine, enemies to lovers. It all involves a cold hearted man or woman," Maya explained, putting her Kindle down. "Maybe this is the beginning of your love story."

"Bullshit," Nila snorted, clicking a picture of the sunlight piercing through the neem tree next to her classroom for her Instagram. "Maya, you're reading too much fiction. How many books have you finished this year?"

"23. And it's only March."

"Are you human?" Nila asked, watching their two other best friends walk in.

"I wish I wasn't," Maya shrugged, hoping that was a helpful answer. Nila walked to Sanjay and tipped her chin as to ask what was up with Lilly. Don't ask, he mouthed, throwing a comforting arm over Lilly, who wordlessly removed her backpack and shrugged off his arm to take a seat.

Lilly was in a relationship with Ana, who was a junior majoring in French, and it was the most stressful relationship Nila had ever heard about. It's not easy openly being affectionate as two women in love and it was frustrating both of them. Ana's parents knew about them but Lilly's parents weren't approving of her sexual identity. They knew about it but they had never encouraged her to embrace it. On top of it, Ana wanted an open relationship but Lilly was against it. They had been arguing over it, making up and going on a vicious cycle but never really making a firm decision. Nila and her friends could see how much it was draining Lilly.

They wanted to tell her to exit the relationship but it was hard to even suggest it. Lilly and Ana were too in love. They were so cute that Nila and Maya were determined to find a love like they had. Now, it all seemed like a painful facade. "You wanna talk about it, bub?" Nila asked, crouching to face her best friend.

"I'm sorry you guys have to do this with me everyday. I don't know what else to do. I love her too much to let her go even though I know she is not the one for me," Lilly said. She had been telling the same thing for a while now. Her shoulder-length hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was wearing no earring. She had forgotten her usual winged-eyeliner and her lipstick wasn't perfect. God, Lilly was losing herself. And Nila didn't know what to do to help her.

"Okay, enough is enough," Sanjay said, facing Lilly and almost stepping on Nila's fingers with his sneakers that he cleaned everyday. "You're going to shut up and take my advice. No arguments, you hear me?"

"What?"

"Your birthday is in a week. You're turning 22 so take this as a chance to start over and open a new chapter of your life. I'll give you three days to break up with Ana. I'll give you two more days to mope around and the next two days, I'm going to take you clubbing. I'll introduce you to hotter men and women and you will forget that bitch existed," Sanjay said. Unlike Nila and Maya, he had disapproved of Ana from the beginning. He had told them that she didn't look like the one to be serious in a relationship despite what she promised Lilly.

"What if I need more time to mope around?"

"No can do, babe. I'll haul you to the club, press a drink into your hand and let you cry there. Men love to play the saviour. They'll come to you."

Nila smacked Sanjay for being insensitive. "Be a little gentle, idiot," she whispered.

"Okay," Lilly said, glancing up. "I'll do it. I'll try. Like you said, enough is enough."

"That's my girl!" Maya cheered, pulling her friend into a hug. "Now that this is sorted, want to hear about Nila's new man?"

"Nila's what?"

"Nila, babe, I thought we were going to marry each other?"

Nila rolled her eyes and sent a saccharine smile towards the troublesome bookworm. "Maya, honey, now would be a good time to run."

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