The Wrong Number

15

Alankrita was feeling snappier than usual when she stepped into her house that day. She didn't wear her usual smile, nor did she do her little jig on the doorstep to shake off the cold. She didn't even pat Archimedes, her golden retriever, and Socrates, her beagle, on their furry heads as they stared expectantly at her. Grumbling, she dropped her bag on the floor and plopped onto the sofa in the living room.

Stupid Ruhan Das. She knew getting friendly with him was a mistake. She'd heard stories about girls who'd had their hearts broken by him and had always mocked them for being so stupid. But now she understood what they'd seen in him. He had a way with words, to make a girl seen like the only person worth talking to. He had certainly made HER feel that way. Stupid Ruhan Das.

She hated herself for feeling this unhappy. No, Ruhan was not worth it. He was just a boy. A cute, smart, terribly eloquent boy with beautiful eyes...

She punched one of the many mini-diwans on the sofa and it flew into the coffee table, making the vase resting on its top wobble. Stupid Ruhan Das.

"Alloo?"

Alankrita pressed her eyes shut and cursed under her breath. There were only two people who called her by that name, and the second was in England visiting Alankrita's brother.How could she have forgotten? Her mother, seeing that she had only a few appointments that day, had decided to take the rest of the day off to spend time with her. Her mother popped her head out from behind the study door. "Hi kanna," she said, smiling, "How was your day?"

Alankrita scowled at the floor and muttered something under her breath. Her mother took this as a cue to do some damage control. "I see," she said, and walked into the living room. Mrs Varsha Sundar was a short, middle aged woman with a long black hair that was in a perennial bun. She was an esteemed psychiatrist at Athena, one of the best hospitals in the country. Having her as a mother had both its advantages and disadvantages, Alankrita often thought. It gave you an unfair advantage in social situations, allowing you to never encounter an awkward moment. On the other hand, you found yourself subconsciously becoming the patient when having a normal conversation with you parents.

"Kanna," her mother sat down next to her and rubbed her back, "Do you want to talk about it?" Alankrita shook her head and sunk lower into her seat. "I got paired with this boy for a project." Alankrita's mother raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Alankrita undid her ponytail, which had been tied so tight her head had begun to ache, and said, "We have to make a working model on the effect of gravitation, proving all the related laws with examples, and we get and combined grade for that. And then there's this test that accounts for 5% of our individual grades," she threw her hands up in the air. "I don't know how I'm going to do this!"

Her mother smiled and said, "I'm sure with a little bit of time management you'll be able to-"
"No, it's not the project- it's my partner!" Alankrita interrupted, throwing her hands up, "He's useless!"

Her mother tutted and said, "It's not got to have such tension between partners. Your work environment should not have any added stress to it. Try accepting the fact that he may not be as," her mother paused and Alankrita raised her eyebrow. "...academically gifted as you are," her mother continued, "This could be a great learning opportunity for you."

"Ma, he can't stand me," she said, hoping she didn't sound too sad when she said it. Her mother pressed her lips together and the living room was quiet as both of them stared off into space, deep in thought. Alankrita was now wallowing in the fact that she had sunk so low that she was so hurt over somebody's impression of her.

The only reason he'd texted her was because he'd received her number by accident. From a girl he was hitting on. A girl who was completely different from Alankrita. A girl who was Ruhan's type. Alankrita guessed it was probably stupid to believe in social distinctions, and the hierarchy followed in the high school system, but she couldn't help but notice the enormity of the difference between her and the boy in question. He was extremely athletic, and had the build of a sprinter. The most she could do was run from table to table taking down orders. His messy dark hair, perfect skin and sad eyes made him exquisitely good looking. And to top it off, his father was a music director, practically making him a B-list celebrity.

She, on the other hand, was only average by all standards. She stood at five feet seven inches, earning her a place in the "Too tall to be cute but not tall enough to be sexy" squad. Her shoulder-length hair had been going through an identity crisis and did not know whether it wanted to be straight or curly so it decided to be both. He eyes were kind of pretty, she allowed, and she made sure her lips stayed moisturized, but every French fry that made it past them would pop up on her face in the form of an unsightly blemish. However, that wasn't important.He didn't like her as a person. It was that simple. She didn't appeal to him as Alankrita Sundar.

She wiped a tear that had sneakily escaped off her cheek before her mother noticed and took a deep breath.

"Oh, I know," her mother said suddenly, grabbing hold of Alankrita's thigh, "Why don't you call him over? I'll make some spinach and cheese quiche and you can work on your project here."

"Absolutely not!" Alankrita yelped, scandalized by the very thought of Ruhan stepping over the threshold of her house, "I'm not calling him anywhere!" and got up. She kneeled down to pick up her bag and her mother stopped her. "Think rationally, Alankrita. If you are not going to work here, where else? In school- in between all your classes and during the lunch breaks? In the public library- where you'll have to lug all your notebooks and textbooks here and there? Unless of course, he wants to work on the project in his house," her mother asked mockingly, knowing Alankrita's squeamishness when it came to going to other people's homes.

"No, no, here is fine," Alankrita said hastily. She didn't particularly want to go to Ruhan's house after what she knew about him.Her mother smiled and stood up too. "Okay, I'd better start making dinner then. Call him and find out if he can come today, I want to meet this 'useless' boy."

Alankrita froze halfway to the staircase and turned around. "Why?!" she asked, her voice higher than usual. Her mother sniffed nonchalantly and took her time before answering. "I just want to meet him, that's all," and walked off into the kitchen. Alankrita was left standing in the middle of the living room, feeling very stiff all over. A minute or two later, she groaned and brought out her iPhone. As an afterthought, she kept her phone in her hand and walked to the landline on the cabinet in the hallway. She picked up the receiver and scrolled through the contacts on her phone till she reached Ruhan's name. She dialed the number and waited, putting it back into her coat pocket. 'This is very stupid,' she thought, 'What if he recognizes my voice?' She heard someone answer the call. 'Too late to hang up now' she thought glumly.

"Hello? Is this Ruhan?" she asked. The reply came quickly. "Yes. Who is this?"
"Hi, this is Alankrita. I wanted to talk to you about our physics project."

There was a sound as if he was exhaling right into the phone's mic. "Ah," he said, sounding much less enthusiastic, "Hi." Alankrita frowned, twirling the telephone cord in her hand, and said, "I want to start working on the project today, and I was wondering if you could come to my house?"
"Your house?" Ruhan asked, sounding confused, "You want me to... come to your house?"

"That's what I just said, keep up, will you?" Alankrita snapped, irritated. "Uh, sorry. Um," she stammered, "My mother is making quiche- maybe we could have some while working?" There was a long pause.

"Okay fine, where do you live?"

She breathed a sigh of relief and told him her address, and after he confirmed it, she hung up. "Urrrrgggg" she gurgled, leaning on the wall and sliding down against it. Her mother called out from the kitchen, "Kanna, is he coming?"

"Yes, ma," she yelled back tiredly, sitting on the floor, "He'll be here in an hour or so," and, lightly hitting the wall with the back of her head, quietly added, "Which is approximately when the reputation I've built for myself will come crumbling down."

All thanks to that Stupid Ruhan Das.

*****