I looked at the caller ID and tapped my foot on the floor, fighting the toughest battle of yes or no.

Tomorrow's grand mission: taking a parent to the sacred ritual of a parent-teacher meeting.

What parent? They are all busy.

My inner voice said. Oh, shut up! I still have a guardian.

Guardian? Yeah, that Adverb? Remember?

I stared at the text again and again, sent by our beloved class teacher in the group
' Timing: 9 a.m.; bring your parents; otherwise, You'll not be issued the admit card.'
Cue existential crisis.

And suddenly, Raghav's ingenious advice from the morning echoed in my head. 'Just don't tell your guardian about the PTM. Easy peasy.' 

Yeah, right. As if hiding a PTM is as simple as sneaking a cookie past a toddler.

I kept my phone on the table and jumped on my bed, screaming my lungs off into my pillow

"fuuuuckkkkkk!" Anika! Anika! Anika! Why did you have to pick a fight with Disha in the first place?

It was not my fault. she had been picking me for the past few days and today I finally lost my temper, resulting in Class War II

Class war?  Yeah, because I was fighting in class.

Throwing paper balls is not a war.

"But why are you thinking about world war and class war when I'm simply going to step into war tomorrow at 9 a.m." I pointed at my reflection in the mirror with annoyance.  Sometimes these voices are too much.

"Jeena haram kr rakkha hai," I muttered, drowning in the ocean of self-pity. After approximately the 150th round of regretting my existence since morning, I thought of a genius plan. A text to Advik. Quick, simple, and then I'd ghost my phone. Genius. 

I took my phone, opened his chat, typed, and hit send, executing the phone shutdown like a ninja vanishing into the shadows.

ME : tomorrow, parents-teachers meet at 9 am

ME : thank you in advance :')

---

next day

I stared at my phone, contemplating how I'd bravely face Advik after the parent-teacher meeting.

Another episode of the 'Let's Embarrass Myself in Front of Advik' show. Classic.

Last month, I swore to my non-existent book boyfriend that I wouldn't do anything embarrassing in front of him ever again, and now, here I stand, breaking that promise like a pro.

Glancing at the clock—8:40 a.m. I swiftly stashed my water bottle into my bag. The school was a brisk 15-minute stroll from the hostel. Perfect!

Grabbing my phone, I locked my room and descended the stairs. As I powered on my phone, my eyes widened at the barrage of texts from him.

Adverb : Did you do something notorious again?

Adverb : Are you okay?

Adverb : Anika you there?
                                          22:49

4 missed calls from Adverb
07:18 a.m.

I stared at his texts and missed calls, a pang of guilt settling in my stomach. Shouldn't have shut off my phone. Now, he's probably worried because of me.

"Good morning, Anika!" Our guard passed me a smile and I smiled at her, "good morning~" I sang back and walked out of the hostel.

Mrs. Diya is in her mid-30s and humble, I mean, too humble to be true. Sometimes I frequently find myself asking her for help, and she never backs off from helping anyone in this hostel.

As I walked out, I took in a deep breath of the fresh air, sending a silent prayer to my lucky stars, 'Godji may this PTM go smoothly—'  But I was interrupted again when my phone rang, 

"or maybe not," I muttered, peeking at the caller ID.

"Hello-" 

"Where are you?" his voice interrupted my greeting. What the heck, Advik?

"at hostel?" I replied, hearing a sigh on the other end, "thought you did something again." he said.

I did something again? Again? Oh, right. Guilty as charged. But really, how does he see me? A troublemaker or the resident class clown?

"Will you be there?" I asked, and he responded with a nonchalant hum before abruptly ending the call.

Wow, so disrespectful. I rolled my eyes at the abrupt end of our conversation. Great start to the day.

Stepping out of the hostel grounds, I casually slid my phone into my pocket and headed towards the main road.

After a few minutes, the unmistakable sound of a horn caught my attention, and a bike pulled up beside me. With a glance, I instantly recognised the rider—the all-black helmet adorned with white-greyish stars and that specific orange-matt black bike.

"Good morning," he greeted, signalling for me to hop on.
Kahe ki good morning jab subhe subhe ja kar us khadus ki shakal hi dekhni hai.
(Why good morning when you have to go early in the morning and see the face of that grumpy evil?)

"I thought you'd head straight to school," I remarked, taking a few steps towards his bike.

"I got worried when I called, and your phone was switched off till morning," he confessed while removing his helmet. Swiftly, I placed my hand on his shoulder, settling into the back seat of his bike. 

Patakha, to be specific.

"Uh well... I forgot to charge my...phone..." What a lame lie, Anika.

He hummed in response, handing me his helmet. I shot him a dumbfounded look. 

"I don't have an extra helmet."

"It took me half an hour to do my hair. Don't ask me to wear it," I protested, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Your brother will kill me," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Who will tell him?" I retorted.
"He trusts me with you, Anika. You're my responsibility," he stated,

"Yeah, responsibility," I sighed in response to his words. Responsibility. Yeah, that word hung in the air, lingering with unspoken implications. Was that all there was to it?

--

"What's this PTM about?" Advik asked as we stepped into the campus

"Probably about academics and admit card kinds of stuff." and I frequently pick fights with my classmates is silent. 

He nodded, and we strolled into the classroom. My class teacher spotted us and flashed a greeting. I spotted Veer and casually parked myself on the nearest bench to him, clueless about everything going around.

"what's going on?" I whispered to Veer, raising an eyebrow. "Speech from our honourable principal, then admit card distribution." he replied, and I mouthed an 'o' in understanding. So, I'm about to be roasted in front of the entire class? Not just my classmates, but their parents too?

Godji ye to cheating hai na? (God, this is cheating, isn't it?)

Advik came and sat near me, taking me by surprise. Then I looked at Veer and the person next to him. Then my gaze danced around the class; everyone was seated with their parent.

The principal began with the customary greetings, diving into a speech about exams, results, and our bright future. Frankly, I don't recall absorbing much of his speech. What I did catch, though, was a bunch of girls whispering about something.

No, not about me, but about the person chilling beside me.

'Is he Anika's brother?' 

no.

'why he kinda... cute.' 

I know, right? Shut up.

Someone nudged me, and I turned to Veer, who arched both eyebrows and pointed at those girls. "They are talking about you," he murmured. The principal had finished his speech by now.

"I know right, mai hu hi aisi" (I know right, I'm like that only.) I whispered back, pushing a few strands of bangs dramatically.

Our class teacher began the roll calls, and the system of the classic PTM started. Thankfully, my roll number was slightly delayed due to my late admission.

I shifted my gaze to the left, finding Advik engrossed in his phone, fingers dancing on the keypad. His eyes remained glued to the screen, absorbed in whatever message he was composing. As I observed, I couldn't help but notice the details—his mole, just beneath the waterline of his eye, and a small scar gracing his jawline.

A smile played on my lips as I remembered his words about getting worried when I didn't answer his call. Was he genuinely concerned for me, or was it more about the weight of his responsibility as my guardian, propelled upon him by his best friend, who happened to be my brother?

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words barely audible in the chaos of the class. Despite the fuss, he still managed to hear it. I had no intention to disturb him and whoever he was texting.

"Hmm? What did you say?" he inquired, his eyes locking onto mine. Panicking, I shifted my gaze away and he leaned in,

As he leaned closer, his scent entered my nostrils, the same soapy-vanilla scent like he just had vanilla ice cream after showering and I forgot what I was about to just say.

"Uh, I was saying..." I began, and he inched even closer, placing his checks in front of my face. I bit my lip as a flurry of butterflies erupted in my stomach.

Say something, Anika, what the heck!

"Iamsorrytotroubleyou and waste yourtime!" I blurted out in one go without taking a breath, the words rushing out like a waterfall.

"It's okay, you don't have to." He gave me a small smile and got back to his phone. I let out a deep breath, which seemed to have been struck in my throat a while ago.

I hate him.

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