That Day

Chapter 6: Near-miss and near-date

After that first night, I wondered if I would see him again. But, my worries were unwarranted since Kabir continued to visit me. I'd wait with bated breath for the slight creak of window being opened. Where initially I lost sleep from anxiety, I was now losing sleep from anticipation of seeing him.

We grew close with each passing day. I would feel gloomy on days he wasn't around and when he did visit - life seemed glorious. We teased each other, laughed (keeping the decibel low, mind you - didn't want to alert my parents of a handsome boy in my bedroom) and spoke just about anything and everything - this one time we had an argument about the big bang theory. It was ridiculous and it made me smile.

"You look tired." I felt my heart melt at the concern in his eyes. "I should let you sleep more often."

"Don't be stupid. Here - quiz me."

He groaned. "Of all the things we could do, you want me to help you study?"

It was the strangest thing. I had been excellent at procrastinating when it came to studies. But the trauma had made me want to push myself to do more - achieve more. Maybe I didn't want to be collateral damage ever again - I wanted to matter.

"Mr. Kulkarni died." Kabir pointed when I'd argued with him on the topic. I hadn't mentioned to him about how disappointed I felt with the incidence and yet, he knew. He was shrewd, instinctive and nothing seemed to fool him. I was starting to understand why he was an undercover agent. He always had an uncanny ability to read my thoughts, even when I didn't speak them.

"Of all the things?" I teased and his answering grin was full of mirth.

"Do I hear a suggestion, Mika?"

I blushed but didn't want to back down just yet.

"And what if you did?"

The challenge in my voice seemed to take him by surprise and his eyes widened ever so slightly. I wanted to laugh but found myself sucking my breath in instead - his intense eyes had turned smoldering and oxygen suddenly seemed to be in short supply.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out.

Yes. I can do this.

I was head over heels for this boy. For some strange reason, he seemed to feel the same way.

There was fervour in his stride as he moved towards me. I was finding it very hard to stand still - maybe it would be better if I could find something to hold on to - something to make me feel steady. I was thankful when my hands found the sturdy teak wood chair. I grasped it tight.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You know how they spoke about electricity in the air, spark in the eyes, desire in the pit of the stomach? Yeah, I felt all that and more. There was perhaps inches between us and I was sure the yearning in my eyes matched his.

Mika! Teenage harmones! Control.

The cautionary voice in my head was my mother's. It put me off for a split second but as I felt his fingers on my cheek, the raging harmones took over. His fingers were cold - or maybe my cheek was on fire but his touch was soft, feather like. I craved for more.

Just when I thought the world had stopped around us, a resounding knock made me jump. It took me a second to realise it came from my bedroom door.

"Anamika? Are you alright?"

It was my father. Blood drained from my face and I felt mortified.

"Pa? I'm okay!"

My voice was high pitched, screechy. My father barged in. He held a knife in one hand and a.. Was that a cooker? Yes, it was. He was dressed in his usual pajama, baniyan and if not for the fear and determination in his stance, I would have thought him to be comical.