The doubt & the enquiry

One crisp Monday morning, I was rushing to get ready for college, still riding high from the wonderful weekend spent as Suhasini. I had carefully painted my nails in a lovely shade of lavender with a sparkly topcoat, a color I adored. In my excitement and rush to leave, I completely forgot to remove the nail polish before stepping out.

As I walked into campus, my heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. I knew I had to blend in and keep my secret safe. But as fate would have it, just a few hours into the day, I bumped into Aditi, a girl from my class who had always been friendly. She had a sharp eye and an even sharper intuition, and I could see her gaze linger on my hands.

“Hey, Suhas! I think you’ve got something colorful going on with your nails!” Aditi said playfully, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a rush of heat to my face.

“Oh, um, I… I just tried something new over the weekend,” I stammered, desperately trying to play it off. “You know how it is with friends sometimes.”

Aditi laughed lightly. “Yeah, I get it! But that’s quite a bold choice! Do you often paint your nails?”

“Not really. Just, you know, wanted to try something different,” I replied, forcing a casual tone even though I could feel the weight of my secret pressing down on me.

She studied me for a moment, her curiosity piqued. “You’ve been acting a little different lately, Suhas. Like, more… expressive? And your style has changed too.” I felt my heart race. Had she noticed the subtle changes in my demeanor and clothing choices?

I shrugged it off, trying to maintain a casual demeanor. “Maybe I’m just feeling more comfortable in my skin?”

“Comfort is good! Just don’t go too crazy, okay?” Aditi laughed, seemingly satisfied with my response, but I could sense that she wasn’t entirely convinced.

Over the next few weeks, I noticed Aditi paying more attention to me. She would casually comment on my fashion choices, sometimes mentioning how I seemed more confident or how I had begun to carry myself differently. I started feeling like a detective being watched by a keen observer.

Every time we had a class together, I tried to be mindful of my gestures and mannerisms, but there was a growing sense of anxiety within me.

Despite my attempts to maintain my facade, I could feel Aditi observing me closely. She began to notice the little things—the way I spoke, the way I styled my hair, and even the slight flick of my wrist as I gestured. Each observation felt like a spotlight shining on my secret life.

As the weeks went by, Aditi’s curiosity about my “changes” deepened, and she began to casually weave more personal questions into our conversations. Initially, they seemed harmless—just friendly inquiries about fashion and style. But soon, I realized her questions were becoming increasingly specific, and I was caught off guard each time.

One day after class, as we walked together, Aditi glanced at my outfit—a simple yet stylish combination of a shirt and jeans. “You know, Suhas, I’ve been thinking about getting some new dresses for the summer. What do you think about floral prints versus solid colors? Which do you prefer?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine for a hint of insight.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “Um, floral prints are nice for summer. They’re vibrant and cheerful!” I said, hoping my answer was vague enough to dodge any deeper implications.

She nodded, clearly pleased with my response. “Yeah, I think they bring out a person’s personality! I was also thinking about trying out a new hairstyle. Do you think curls or straight hair looks better for formal occasions?”

“Curls can look really elegant, especially with a nice dress,” I replied, hoping my voice sounded confident. Inside, I was panicking, trying to gauge where she was headed with these questions.

Her enthusiasm didn’t wane. “And what about accessories? I want to know your opinion! I love bangles, but I’m not sure what color combinations would work best with my outfits. What do you think?”

“Bangles are great! I think mixing metallic colors with bright ones can really make a statement,” I suggested, wishing I could redirect the conversation.

Aditi paused for a moment, considering my answer, before moving on to the next question. “And what about bindis? Do you think they’re too traditional, or can they look chic too?”

My heart raced as I struggled to keep my composure. “Bindis can definitely add a fun touch to an outfit. It’s all about how you style it, really,” I replied, my voice slightly shaking.

“Exactly! I love how they can be so versatile,” Aditi said, her excitement evident. “I might try wearing one this weekend to a party. Do you think I should go for a traditional red one, or something more colorful?”

“Maybe a colorful one? It would definitely stand out,” I suggested, feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and anxiety. It was as if she was drawing me into a world I was living in but had yet to fully share with her.

Throughout the following weeks, Aditi continued to ask me more girly questions, and each time I felt the walls of my secret life getting thinner. “So, Suhas, if you were to choose a color for my bangles to match this outfit, what would it be?” she asked one day while trying on a new dress during a shopping trip.

“Maybe gold and turquoise? They’d complement your skin tone nicely,” I answered, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I realized I was starting to enjoy this. Was I, in some way, revealing my inner self through her questions?

“Good choice! You have a great eye for color, you know? Maybe you should help me shop more often,” she laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. I couldn’t help but smile at her compliment, feeling a sense of pride mixed with the weight of my secret.

The more she asked, the more I felt like I was living two lives—the boy everyone knew and the Suhasini I was becoming. Yet, I feared what would happen if Aditi connected the dots. What if she realized that my insights were based on personal experience rather than mere observation?

One evening, while we were studying together, she leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You know, Suhas, I really admire how you seem to embrace change. You’re always open to trying new things. Have you ever thought about how that applies to your style?”

I felt my heart race. “I guess I just like to explore different aspects of life?” I replied, hoping it would suffice.

“Totally! I mean, some guys wouldn’t be caught dead thinking about accessories or hairstyles, but you seem to have an opinion on everything!” she remarked, her tone playful but with an underlying seriousness.

I chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. “Well, fashion can be fun for everyone, right?”

“Right! And it’s about expressing yourself,” she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “That’s what I think makes someone unique.”

As the days turned into weeks, I found myself increasingly drawn to the idea of sharing my secret with Aditi. I could see the genuine care she had in her questions, and part of me yearned to confide in her about Suhasini. Yet, fear held me back, leaving me in a whirlwind of confusion.