I woke up the next morning feeling like a potato that had been abandoned in the corner of a fridge for three months—soft, confused, and absolutely useless. Kiara, on the other hand, had the audacity to wake up like a functioning human being. She stretched, yawned, and casually announced, "I'm gonna go freshen up," as if that wasn't the most disrespectful thing she could say to a half-dead potato like me. I stared at her with one eye open, judging her life choices and mine.
I groaned and rolled further into the blanket like a dying whale.
Don't get up. Life is pointless. You're a decorative item.
But you can't smell like depression in someone else's house.
After fifteen minutes of contemplating existence and the unfairness of morning time, I finally dragged myself out of bed. "Fine," I muttered dramatically, "I'll get ready before someone files a missing person report". I dragged myself up and got ready with the enthusiasm of someone attending their own funeral.
We went downstairs for breakfast, and the worst thing happened—
everyone decided to make fun of me.
Like literally the whole family looked at me as if I was their personal stand-up comedy show. Every single thing I did, said, breathed, blinked — they laughed at.
My mom started, "Misha, you sleep like there's a prize for it."
Dad added, "I think she actually competed with the fan in speed."
Kiara grinned, "Guys, guys, be nice. She tries her best... to be useless."
I groaned so loud I swear the birds outside changed direction. "Why am I the entertainment package of this house?"
Great. Fantastic. Lovely. I love being the entertainment package. Next time someone asks my skills, I'll write: certified disaster, professional clown, part-time embarrassment. God, if you're listening, please strike me with temporary invisibility. Or at least mute these people.
After breakfast, Kiara and I decided to help in house chores because the guilt of being alive was heavy. We were peacefully working when Kiara suddenly turned dramatically, hair flicking like a K-drama lead.
"Mishaaa," she said, hands on hips, "pack your ass. We're going to my college again."
I froze mid-wipe, holding a cloth like an old saas from Indian serials.
"What do you MEAN again? For what? WHY? What have I done to deserve this?"
Kiara smirked. "Because I said so. And because chaos follows you. And I like watching that."
I gasped. "So I'm a circus show now?"
"Yes," she said proudly. "My circus. My monkey."
I threw the cloth at her and she cackled like a villain.
"Kiara, I JUST recovered from yesterday's trauma, why—"
She cut me off, "Don't argue. Wear something cute."
I stared at her like she was telling me to walk into a volcano.
But okay, destiny decided. We were going. Eventually we left for her college. But halfway through the drive, Kiara got a call from Aarav.
"Where are you guys?" he asked.
Kiara said, "On the way to college, why?"
"Oh perfect. Come to our place. We're having parathas. Tradition, you know?"
I looked at Kiara. "Tradition?? What are they, a cult?"
Kiara shrugged. "Honestly... yes."
We reached the place soon and saw the four boys sitting at a table like they were posing for a magazine cover called Menace Monthly. Kiara and I sat at the table beside them.
They greeted us and I gave a quick glance at everyone. But, of course, my traitor eyes landed on Aarav and stayed two seconds too long. He was laughing at something Rudra said and the sun hit his face just right.
In that morning sunlight, this man was glowing like the sun itself was paying electricity bills through him.
My brain whispered, Vitamin D deficiency cured.
My soul whispered, Pretty boy alert.
My heart whispered, Down bad behaviour activated.
After two seconds of shameless staring, I got a grip on myself. Focus, Misha. Do NOT look like a hungry dog staring at chicken. Control your hormones. This is not National Geographic.
Thankfully nobody noticed... except maybe Kabir, who raised one suspicious eyebrow, but I ignored his existence.
Meanwhile, Rudra was being his usual dramatic self. He leaned back in his chair, holding his paratha like it was some sacred artifact, and announced with full Shakespearean tragedy, "Misha, did you know this paratha has more personality than half the people in my life?"
He took a slow, exaggerated bite as if proving a point. Advik didn't even look up before snorting, "Bro, that's because your personality is borrowed." Rudra froze, gasped like someone had thrown holy water on a demon, and slapped a hand over his chest. "You absolute menace. You sewer rat. You unseasoned biscuit." His voice cracked halfway through the insult, and that was it
I burst out laughing so hard I choked on my water, coughing like a dying crow while everyone stared.
Once breakfast chaos settled, we finally left for the college. And of course, the boys, being the certified circus troupe they are, suddenly realized a massive issue. They had to wear their college T-shirt as part of the uniform. I, obviously, did not have one. So what was their genius solution? They stuffed me into a huge, oversized jacket that could comfortably shelter a family of four. And they did this in the middle of the stupidly hot summer. I looked down at myself, drowning in fabric, sweating like a sinner in church, and genuinely resembling a traveling jumbo momo. The boys were proud of their plan; I was reconsidering every life choice that led me to this moment.
Aarav tried not to laugh. "Just... keep the jacket zipped. Gatekeeper won't check."
We reached the college gate looking like a group of perfectly normal humans—except I was dressed like an undercover snowman in May. The gatekeeper stared at me first, then at the boys, then again at me, his eyebrows slowly rising like he'd just spotted a wildlife documentary happening live.
Before I could say anything, Rudra stepped forward as if he had been training his whole life for this exact performance. "Sir, she's... uh... exchange student," he declared, waving his hand dramatically. "From—" He paused, clearly scrambling for the name of a country. "—Finland."
Finland. In this heat. I wanted to bury myself.
The guard blinked. "Finland?"
Aarav casually leaned on the bike as if this was the smoothest plan ever created. "Yes, sir. That's why she's feeling cold. Body is not used to Indian heat," he said with the confidence of someone who absolutely knew he was lying.
Kiara slapped her hand over her mouth to hide her laugh.
Advik jumped in next, adding absolutely unnecessary spice. "Sir, her body is very delicate. Temperature sensitive. If she takes off this jacket, she will melt. Like ice cream."
I stared at him, dead inside.
Kabir, not wanting to miss the chance to add chaos, hummed a dramatic suspense tune like background music to a crime thriller, making the whole situation ten times more stupid.
The guard looked at me again. I gave him the most innocent, helpless smile of my life—mostly because I had no clue what the clowns behind me would say next. He stared at us like he wanted to un-alive all five of us on the spot. After a long sigh, he finally waved us in. "Go, go. Before all of you melt."
The boys strutted past like they just won a national championship. I followed them, dragging my giant jacket like I was walking toward my own doom.
The moment we entered the empty classroom, everyone scattered like toddlers released in a playground. Rudra threw his bag on one bench dramatically, sighing like life had personally betrayed him. Aarav sat down quietly but with that focused face that made him look stupidly cute for no reason. Kiara took out her work like a responsible adult. Kabir and Advik were already arguing about whose handwriting was uglier.
And me?
Well... I did the only sane thing anyone could do in this circus.
I took out my novel, sat on a bench, and mentally teleported to a different universe where people were normal and didn't stuff girls into giant jackets to smuggle them into colleges.
Let them run behind professors and printers. I'll stay here and pretend I'm in another universe. Preferably one without these fools.
But peace is something God has not permitted me to have. Ever.
"Mishaaaa," Rudra said, sliding into my bench like a dramatic K-drama hero who lost his will to live. "You're reading? In THIS economy?"
I didn't even lift my head. "Yes. Because unlike you, I have brain cells that enjoy oxygen."
Advik snorted from across the room. "Bro, leave her. She's escaping reality. Honestly, same."
I closed the book slowly, painfully, dramatically — because I knew this was the end.
Of my peace.
Of my sanity.
Of my will to live.
"Come," Advik said, dragging me up.
"Where?", I groaned.
"To submit our work. If we suffer, you suffer too."
The boys had decided I was not allowed to exist quietly.
So I followed them. Like a headless chicken. A headless chicken that didn't even know where it was being taken.
We walked through corridors like some mismatched Avengers squad. Everyone split to submit their assignments to different professors. And within minutes — everyone disappeared.
Except me and Kabir.
Just the two of us.
Standing in a corridor.
Silence stretching like a bad WiFi connection.
I panicked.
My brain, being the pea-sized optimist it is, decided it was a GREAT idea to start a conversation.
"So... your college is nice," I said.
Kabir raised a brow. "Nice?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "I mean, aside from the fact that it isn't a college. It's basically a school. Uniforms, rules, timetable— full on school vibes."
Kabir looked personally offended.
"School? SCHOOL?" he repeated, as if I insulted his ancestors. "This is called DISCIPLINE. This is called SYSTEM. This is called EDUCATION. Colleges without uniforms? That's chaos. That's lawlessness. That's Wild West behavior."
I blinked.
He continued like an uncle on Facebook. "Uniform shows unity. Identity. Respect. When we walk outside, people know — ohhh these are OUR students. Pride. Prestige. Respect."
I stared at him.
He went on. "And wearing normal clothes to college? Who handles that pressure? Every day deciding outfits? My mental health will evaporate."
At that point, my soul left my body.
I nodded slowly. "Kabir... I think I lost 4 years of my lifespan listening to you."
He brightened. "Good! Means I explained properly."
"No," I deadpanned. "You drained every drop of energy I didn't even have."
Before he could start Lecture Part 2, Kiara came running toward us, waving her hands like she was calling a helicopter.
"MISHA!" she yelled. "COME HERE QUICK!"
I turned, confused. "What happened?"
"MISHA JUST COME!"
And in front of the entire corridor, she somehow managed to trip, slip, slide, and bump into me so hard that I crashed into the wall, sending two chairs and my dignity flying.
Everyone turned to stare.
I stood there like a squished tomato on the wall.
Kabir whispered, "Are... are you alive?"
I whispered back, "I want to unsubscribe from life."
Kiara looked at me with the politest expression: "Oops."
I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
The embarrassment was so loud even the walls heard it. At that moment, I decided it was safer to EXIT before the universe planned my next public humiliation.
So I grabbed Kiara's hand and marched out like a wounded soldier who just wanted peace and cold water.
We left the college before I tripped on the air itself.
By the time I reached home, I had convinced myself that the universe would finally give me one peaceful evening.
But no.
Because peace and I... we are not on talking terms.
My phone started buzzing violently, flashing NIDHI CALLING like a police siren.
My soul left my body.
"Oh god," I whispered. "I forgot. I forgot to call her. I'm dead. I'm finished. She's going to turn me into mashed potatoes and feed me to crows."
I picked up the call like a scared child picking up a phone from their angry mom.
Nidhi didn't even say hello — she just started yelling like she was stationed on a battlefield and I was the enemy soldier who stole her fries.
"YOU USELESS PIECE OF TRASH," she yelled so loud I flinched. "DID YOU DIE?? DID YOU TURN INTO DUST?? WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME BACK?? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, BITCH? I CALLED YOU YESTERDAY, THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY, AND THE DAY BEFORE THAT. ARE YOU DEAD? KIDNAPPED? MARRIED? HUH?" she screamed so loud my ancestors heard it. "YOU USELESS DUMBFUCK! YOU REMEMBER ME OR NOT?!"
I flinched. "Nidhi wait—"
"DON'T 'WAIT' ME! Two days! TWO WHOLE DAYS you disappeared like some Netflix villain! I thought Gujarat took you and sacrificed you to the heat!"
"I was busy—"
"BUSY? With WHAT? HUH? Adopting new friends and forgetting your ORIGINAL ONE?! I swear to god Misha Kapoor if you don't talk right now I will fly there and shave your eyebrows."
I panicked and immediately started talking like a toddler reporting to their strict teacher.
"Okay okay LISTEN! I didn't die. I didn't run away. I just— I went to Kiara's college. Twice. And the boys are actual circus animals. You have no idea what madness I have survived."
"Oh really?" she said, still dramatic but listening. "Say everything. FULL REPORT. RIGHT NOW."
So I told her.
Everything.
I summarized my last two days like a dramatic podcast host on 2x speed.
How I met the boys, how Rudra was being a clown, how Advik nearly adopted me into chaos, how Kabir lectured me like some motivational speaker with identity crisis, and how Kiara dragged me around like her unofficial emotional support animal.
Nidhi kept interrupting every five seconds.
"WAIT HE SAID WHAT?"
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"YOU WALKED INTO A COLLEGE IN A HUGE JACKET? IN SUMMER? ARE YOU OKAY?"
"OH MY GODDD MISHA YOU'RE A CARTOON CHARACTER."
"I swear your life is like a sitcom without a laugh track."
I laughed so hard, my stomach hurt. But she wasn't done.
"Okay, now tell me the important part—why were you giggling like a 5-year-old when you mentioned Aarav? Spill. RIGHT NOW. Don't try to act smart."
I froze.
Oh shit.
Here it was.
Universal best friend rule.
You can hide your sins, your crimes, your weird Google searches — BUT NOT YOUR CRUSH.
So I coughed dramatically and said, "So, uh... there was this... little... tiny microscopic thing..."
"MISHA."
Her voice got quiet. Dangerous quiet.
"Do not test me. Who is he? Why are you smiling like a clown? WHY WERE YOU STARING AT HIM LIKE HE WAS A SUN AND YOU WERE A SOLAR PANEL?"
I groaned into a pillow. "BRO, I WASN'T STARING— okay fine maybe I was but LISTEN—"
"AAAAHAAA! I KNEW IT! I KNEW SOMEONE WAS MAKING YOU ACT LIKE YOU'RE IN A WATTPAD STORY! TELL ME EVERYTHING! RIGHT NOW! WHAT HAPPENED? WHO BLUSHED? DID YOU FALL? DID HE CATCH YOU? DID YOU STARE AT HIM LIKE A PSYCHO? EVERYONE CLAP. HISTORY IS BEING MADE."
I could practically hear her banging utensils together like some overexcited aunty.
"I didn't stare," I lied immediately.
"Misha," she said. "You stare at samosas with more intensity than normal humans. I KNOW YOU STARED."
I covered my face. "He's just... I don't know man... he's sweet. And smart. And annoyingly cute. And he looks at people like he can read their brain but in a nice way. AND NO I DON'T LIKE HIM LIKE HIM—"
"Shut up," she said. "You absolutely like him. Don't embarrass yourself with denial."
I kicked the air. "UGHGHGHGHH NIDHI STOP. I WAS JUST ADMIRING, OKAY? SUNLIGHT WAS SHINING OUT OF HIS— never mind."
"NO SAY IT."
"OUT OF HIS ASS, OKAY? AND I'M SITTING THERE LIKE A VITAMIN-D DEFICIENT GREMLIN. HAPPY???"
Nidhi was laughing so hard she choked.
"Stop— STOP— I'm dying— HAHHAHA— a gremlin— I can't—"
I groaned like a dying goat and flopped on the bed.
"He just—" I paused, fighting the smile that was absolutely betraying me. "He's... not what I expected."
Nidhi smirked through the phone. "Meaning?"
"It's just—he's annoyingly calm. Like frustratingly patient. Like even when he's making fun of me he does it so smoothly it feels illegal." I kicked my blanket like it was his fault. "And he always looks like he's one second away from calling me a menace but also... smiling at it."
"Ayy, slow down, ma'am," she laughed. "Look at you turning into a Wattpad main character."
"Shut up," I whined. "He's just—nice. And kind of funny. And a little too composed? Like I try to annoy him but he doesn't react. He just gives me that look like—" I made a dramatic gasp. "—like HE knows something I don't. Which is rude."
Nidhi screamed. "YOU LIKE HIM."
"Do NOT start that narrative," I snapped, sitting up instantly. "I don't. I swear. I don't like him. He's just... interesting. That's it. Interesting. Like a puzzle. Or like a Rubik's cube person."
"So you think he's cute?"
"I did NOT say that."
"But you did not deny it," she said smugly.
I threw a pillow across the room. "NIDHI."
She laughed so hard the line crackled.
"Oho, my girl is down bad and in denial. I love this era."
"Shut up before I block you."
"He just listens," I admitted quietly. "Like properly listens. And I don't know why that's so—"
Nidhi interrupted dramatically. "Hot?"
I facepalmed. "Oh my god, you are the worst."
"And yet you love me," she said.
"Unfortunately."
We both laughed, and she softened a little.
"Okay, real talk—where do you stand with him?"
I shrugged even though she couldn't see. "I don't know, Nidhi. It's not like that. He just feels like... peace? But sarcastic peace. The kind that can roast me but also carry my bag if I trip."
"Oh wow," she said. "You're gone."
"Nidhi."
"Fine fine," she said, giggling. "But just remember— I expect DAILY updates about Aarav. Morning, evening, midnight. I want the full tea."
"You're impossible," I said.
"And you're in denial," she replied cheerfully. "Equally tragic."
After laughing at me for another five minutes straight, she finally calmed down.
"Okay okay," she said. "I'm done bullying you for today. But if you don't call me tomorrow, I'll personally kidnap you."
"I love you too," I muttered.
"Yeah yeah. Now go. And think about Aarav while hugging your pillow like the lovesick idiot you are."
"NIDHI—"
She cut the call.
I stared at my phone, feeling offended, embarrassed, exposed, and weirdly happy. We talked like two unhinged childhood friends who should never be given microphones. Because that's what best friends do.
After the call, I marched straight to Kiara's room to bug her about Kabir — because of course I would. And after gossiping about every stupid detail of the day, we finally decided to call it a night.
But when I finally lay down in the dark, the last thought in my head wasn't about the chaos...
...it was Aarav's stupid face and his stupid smile and the stupid way my stomach flipped like a cheap trampoline.
Why does he smile like that? Why does he look at me like he knows something? Why does my stomach twist like I swallowed a freaking butterfly farm?? I barely know him... so why does he feel strangely... familiar? Comforting? Ugh. No. Stop thinking, Misha. Sleep. Reboot your brain.
Aarav.
His stupid smile, his stupid glow, his stupid voice calling us for breakfast.
Ugh. I hated how much I liked the man.
I buried my face in the pillow.
"God, please. Control your favourite clown," I whispered.
And with that chaotic jumble of thoughts, I drifted off.