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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬

Anjali's pov

I threw my bag down on the floor, a habit my mother didn't fail to criticize everytime she caught me.

"Anjali! How many times have I told you don't..."

"Throw your bag on the floor. Yeah mom I know. I'm sorry. I'm tired today," I said, plopping down on my bed.

My mom popped into my room out of nowhere. "What happened? Did something happen with Ken?"

I paused, weighting my words, "Yeah, kind of, I guess."

"Did you have a fight?"

"Maybe. I don't know really."

"Fine don't tell me anything," my mom walked out of the room, talking to herself loud enough so I could hear her, "There was a time when we were best friends."(I had to stop myself from snorting) "You would share everything with me. God knows what you kids do these days."

I shook my head and jumped out of bed. I walked into the kitchen and sure enough she was right there. "Mumma," I said. She acted like she did not hear me. "Mumma," I said again, this time walked up to her and gave her a tight hug from behind. "Mumma I'm sorry. You are still my best friend. I tell you everything you know that. Want me to help you with something?" I looked at the mess in the kitchen.

"No I don't need help," she said, but I could tell her mood had lifted.

My mother had done a lot for the family. She had worked two jobs when we had immigrated here and helped pull us out of the basement we were living in to an apartment and now, we had our own home. A beautiful one that too. Of course my father played a huge role in it too, but no one worked as hard as my mom did.

I went back to my room and sat down on my bed, without a single thought in my brain. Then all of a sudden, it all crashed down on me. I had kissed Ken. I had cheated on him. I had cheated on Varun.

Varun was my boyfriend. He had met my parents too, but only my mum knew that we were dating. He was a sweet guy, and he too had an Indian background, but he was born here. We went along quite well, but there was a part of me that felt like I had to push myself into doing things with him. I didn't particularly like his company, his hands constantly trying to find their way under my shirt. I let him do whatever he wanted to but a part of me just wanted to push him away.

He was decent, he never pushed me too far and I was grateful for it. Maybe I did love him in a way.

But then I remembered Ken. Her soft lips on mine. It was brief, the kiss felt like it lasted barely a second but as I lay there on my bed, I wondered if I wanted to do it again.

Out of the blue, I was imagining Ken, her pale hands on my waist, our bodies pressed together, our lips pressed together, her hand slipping under my t shirt her nails digging into my skin, inside my...

Fuck no. I can't go there.

But I was. I was already going there. In my mind, Ken was already mine.

Kenna.

"Kenna!"

I sat up with a startle. The voice was my mum's. I peeked out my window and there they were, my mom and Ken. Ken looked a bit awkward but my mom was blithely chatting away about something I couldn't hear.

My heart jumped to my throat.

Would Ken say anything?

"You should go meet her. She's not looking like herself since she came home," I heard my mother say and had to hold back from facepalming myself.

I peeked out the window. Ken had disappeared. I sighed with relief and lay down on my bed and closed my eyes.

Suddenly, there was a hand on my lower leg and I nearly fell out in the bed. " Anjali?," a voice said.

Her voice.

I had this sudden intense urge to pull her close to my ear and hear her say that again.

Her hand moved up my leg. "Anjali? Are you sleeping?"

I opened my eyes and saw Ken sitting there, with a look in her eye that I could not decipher. I had never seen it before.

"Well, I am not anymore," I said, trying to catch my breath.

Her hand moved higher up my leg till it reached the hem of my dress.

Don't stop, please. Just move your hand a little more closer to where you want it. You will feel me. You will feel how badly my body wants you.

But her hand was gone and she was staring at me blankly.

"Should I go?"

"Don't," I said gripping her wrist all of a sudden, earning a smirk from her.

Ken turned to look at something, "Hold on, let me just..."

She walked up to the door, and closed it.

"I think we can communicate clearly now," she said, her hand moving towards the hem of my dress again. She leaned close to me, close enough for me to feel her breath. "Maybe help you," she pressed her lips on the edge of my jaw, "relax a bit."

Her hand was under my dress now. All I could feel was her skin on mine. Her hands were tugging at my panties desperately, her lips pressed on my jaw, on my neck, her sweet breath all around me.

It was all good. It was all so good, until it was not.

"Stop," I said to Ken, who immediately slipped away from me, the warmth of her skin was gone in no time.

"I'm sorry," she said, stood up and walked out of the room. I sat up‌, "No, wait."

Too late, her shadow had disappeared.

I sighed and threw myself back down on my bed, my hand instinctively rubbing on the places her lips had been just a couple of minutes before. It was a couple of moments before I realised my dress was all messed up. I quickly fixed it, grateful my mom had not seen it.