Chapter 3 - Not for anyone else
By the time Geet turned 13, the 42% mathematics paper had stopped being an embarrassment and become something of a family joke, although unlike before, when jokes about her schoolwork would have made her defensive enough to argue with anyone unfortunate enough to mention them, Geet had started laughing along because she knew exactly what had happened after that mark and, more importantly, what it had taught her about herself.
The paper remained tucked inside the back of one of her folders, creased around the edges and still covered in the same red corrections she had once hated looking at, but she had refused to throw it away because every time she stumbled across it, she remembered how easily she had accepted the idea that being bad at something was simply part of who she was.
A year later, nobody described her that way anymore.
She had not suddenly become the student who came 1st in every subject, nor had she transformed into somebody who enjoyed spending every available hour revising, because Geet still considered weekends sacred and could usually be persuaded away from a textbook with food, television or anything remotely more interesting, but she had developed a discipline nobody had expected from the girl who once believed reading a chapter summary should count as revising the entire topic.
Meera remained her favourite study partner, although the balance between them had shifted naturally as the months passed because, where Meera had once spent most of their revision sessions explaining mathematics while Geet helped her with English, Geet had gradually reached the point where she could challenge Meera's answers, explain a difficult question back to her and occasionally recognise a mistake before Meera did.
The 1st time that happened, Geet had stared at Meera's calculation for several seconds before reaching across the dining table and tapping the incorrect line with her pencil. "You changed the sign here," she pointed out, trying unsuccessfully to hide the smugness spreading across her face as Meera frowned and leaned closer to inspect the equation.
When Meera realised Geet was right, she sighed and reached for her eraser, although the moment she noticed the victorious expression on Geet's face, her eyes narrowed. "Don't start," Meera warned, pointing the eraser towards her because she already knew exactly what was coming.
Geet immediately leaned back in her chair and placed one hand dramatically against her chest. "I wasn't going to say anything," she assured her, although her smile widened as she watched Meera correct the mistake. "I was simply enjoying this historic moment in silence."
"You have never enjoyed anything in silence in your entire life," Meera muttered as she erased the calculation, which only made Geet laugh before reminding her that she had spent almost a year listening to Meera correct her maths and therefore deserved at least 5 minutes to enjoy returning the favour.
Their latest test results arrived on a Monday morning, with Meera receiving 88% while Geet scored 85%, and although Geet had stared at the number for several seconds after turning the paper over, the feeling that settled inside her was entirely different from the disbelief she had experienced after receiving 83% the previous year.
An 85% no longer felt like some strange accident she had to prove she deserved.
It simply felt like the result of the work she had done.
That was the part Geet liked most.
The change had not gone unnoticed at home either because Mohinder had stopped peering into the dining room with exaggerated suspicion whenever he found his daughter studying, while Pammi had stopped asking whether Meera was forcing her to sit there and instead automatically left tea, fruit and snacks beside both girls without interrupting their revision.
Even Yash had eventually stopped reacting to every good mark like evidence of a national emergency, although he still insisted that years of older-brother insults had been the true source of Geet's motivation, a theory Geet considered so ridiculous that she refused to dignify it with anything beyond an eye roll.
Maan, however, was more difficult to ignore.
At 16, he had grown noticeably taller and broader through the shoulders, and although the mischievous boy who had once dedicated ridiculous amounts of time to finding new ways of annoying Geet still existed somewhere beneath the surface, he had become more serious as school grew more demanding and Rajveer increasingly included him in conversations about architecture, university and the responsibilities that would eventually come with the Khurana name.
Unfortunately, according to Geet, maturity had done absolutely nothing for his arrogance.
He still called her ladoo and football occasionally.
The difference was that Geet had stopped reacting.
The 1st few times Maan assumed she had not heard him, but after several unsuccessful attempts to provoke the familiar response, he began to suspect she was deliberately ignoring him, which bothered him far more than he was prepared to admit.
One Sunday afternoon, Geet and Meera were sitting beside one another on the large sofa in the Khurana living room, both attempting to finish their homework before Avantika allowed them to watch a film, when Maan walked past and casually called, "Football," without stopping.
Geet continued reading.
Maan slowed.
When she still did not look up, he turned around and stared at the top of her head before calling again, this time slightly louder, "Football."
Meera's eyes flickered towards her brother before moving towards Geet, who calmly turned another page without acknowledging him.
Maan walked back towards them and stopped directly in front of the sofa, blocking Geet's view of the lamp beside him, which finally made her lift her gaze from the book resting across her lap. "Can I help you?" Geet asked politely, although the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth told Meera she knew exactly why he was standing there.
Maan folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at her. "You heard me."
Geet tilted her head slightly, allowing a deliberately confused expression to settle across her face before replying, "I usually hear you, yes."
"Then why didn't you answer?"
Geet glanced briefly towards Meera before returning her attention to Maan. "Because I thought you were looking for a football," she explained with such innocence that Meera immediately lowered her head to hide her laughter.
Maan's eyes narrowed before shifting towards his sister. "What are you laughing at?" he demanded, and when Meera attempted to shake her head while still smiling, he pointed towards her accusingly. "You're clearly laughing."
"I remembered something," Meera replied quickly, although the excuse sounded unconvincing even to her.
Maan stared at her for another moment before turning back towards Geet, who had already lowered her eyes to the page again, and the fact that she had dismissed him so easily irritated him enough that he reached down and closed the book.
Geet slowly looked at his hand resting over the cover before raising her gaze towards his face. "Maan," she warned, her voice remaining calm even as her expression made it clear that he was rapidly exhausting her patience.
"There you are," Maan replied with a satisfied smile, as though finally getting a reaction proved something important.
Geet stared at him before reaching for the book, although when Maan lifted his hand away and allowed her to take it, she did not immediately reopen it. "Did you genuinely interrupt my homework because I didn't react to you calling me fat?" she asked, her brows pulling together as though she could not decide whether to be irritated or amused.
Maan shook his head immediately. "I didn't call you fat."
"You have been using that argument since I was 9," Geet reminded him, while Meera glanced between them with the expression of somebody who had heard the same debate far too many times.
"Because football and fat are not the same word," Maan argued as he lowered himself onto the arm of the sofa.
"In your vocabulary they have always meant exactly the same thing," Geet countered before reopening the book, and when Maan opened his mouth to respond, she glanced up again and added, "If you need attention this badly, go and annoy Yash because I actually have work to finish."
Meera pressed her lips together.
Maan stared at Geet.
Geet returned to reading.
He remained sitting there for several seconds, strangely dissatisfied by how quickly she had forgotten about him, before eventually pushing himself away from the sofa and walking towards the kitchen.
What irritated Maan was not the insult itself.
It was the fact that Geet had once given him attention without him ever needing to ask for it.
When they were younger, he could barely enter the Handa house without Geet appearing somewhere beside him, asking where he was going, what he was doing and whether she could join them, while Maan had spent years telling her to stop following him and complaining whenever she ignored the order.
Now she increasingly did exactly what he had once wanted.
For reasons he refused to examine too closely, the silence bothered him more than the noise ever had.
Geet's decision to become healthier happened several months later and, despite what almost everybody initially assumed, it had very little to do with Maan or with the endless comments she had heard about her weight throughout childhood.
It started with a staircase.
After renovations at school forced several classes to move, Geet's science lessons were transferred from the ground floor to the 3rd floor, and one particularly warm afternoon she reached the classroom breathing heavily enough that Meera, who had already placed her books on the desk, immediately looked towards her with concern.
"Are you all right?" Meera asked as Geet dropped into the chair beside her and leaned back, trying to control her breathing without making the effort too obvious.
Geet waved one hand dismissively while reaching for Meera's water bottle. "I'm fine," she assured her before taking several long sips and passing it back. "I just think whoever designed this school hated children because there is absolutely no reason we need this many stairs."
Meera laughed at the complaint and opened her textbook, while Geet forgot about the incident before the lesson had even ended.
The following week, however, something similar happened during physical education when the class was instructed to complete several laps around the field, and after barely finishing half of what everyone else had managed, Geet found herself slowing to a walk because her legs felt heavy and her lungs were burning enough to make continuing feel impossible.
Usually, she would have laughed it off because she had never liked sports and had spent most of her childhood proudly declaring that unnecessary running was one of society's greatest mistakes, but that afternoon she sat on a bench after class and watched several of the other girls continue around the field without looking remotely as exhausted as she felt.
For the 1st time, Geet did not think about how she looked.
She thought about how she felt.
She was tired of stairs leaving her breathless, tired of avoiding anything that required too much physical effort and, although she had never considered herself unhappy, she suddenly realised that she did not want to feel uncomfortable inside her own body simply because she had become accustomed to it.
She mentioned it to Meera while they were walking home after school, adjusting the strap of her heavy bag as she said thoughtfully, "I think I want to get fitter."
Meera turned her head towards her immediately, and although she did not react dramatically, Geet noticed the careful way her best friend studied her face before asking, "Because of PE today?"
"Not just today," Geet admitted as they continued walking. "I hate getting tired so quickly and I hate stairs, and I know I joke about it because I've always hated exercise, but I don't think I actually want to feel like this forever."
Meera remained quiet for several steps before asking gently, "Did somebody say something to you?"
Geet knew what she was really asking and sighed as she shook her head. "No, nobody said anything."
"Maan?" Meera asked, because if anybody had spent enough years commenting on Geet's size to make the question reasonable, it was her brother.
Geet stopped walking altogether and turned towards her friend with an incredulous expression. "If I was going to change myself because of something Maan said, I would have done it years ago," she pointed out, which made Meera's concern disappear beneath a reluctant laugh. "He has been calling me ladoo and football since before I properly understood why he thought it was funny, so no, this isn't because of your stupid brother."
Meera smiled as she adjusted her own bag and began walking again. "Good, because if it was, I was going to tell you not to bother."
Geet caught up with her and bumped their shoulders together. "I just want to know what I feel like when I'm fitter," she explained more quietly, and when Meera nodded without turning the conversation into anything more complicated, Geet knew she understood.
Telling Pammi that evening proved considerably harder.
Her mother had barely allowed Geet to finish explaining before placing her spoon down and fixing her with the expression she usually reserved for situations involving her children and possible emotional distress.
"Who said something to you?" Pammi asked immediately.
Geet closed her eyes briefly before looking towards the ceiling. "Nobody."
Pammi did not appear convinced. "Did someone at school make a comment?"
"No."
"Did Maan say something?"
"Mumma," Geet groaned, dropping her spoon onto her plate before turning towards Mohinder as though expecting her father to intervene.
Mohinder looked between his wife and daughter and wisely continued eating.
Geet frowned at him. "Papa, you could help."
Mohinder swallowed before reaching for his glass. "I have been married long enough to know when not to involve myself."
Pammi turned towards him sharply. "Mohinder."
"I am listening," he assured her immediately, although the amusement in his eyes made Geet sigh before turning back towards her mother.
"Why does everybody think I'm doing this because somebody said something?" Geet asked, leaning her arms against the table as she tried to explain herself without becoming frustrated. "I'm not upset, nobody bullied me and Maan hasn't suddenly said anything he hasn't already been saying since I was 9. I just want to feel fitter, and I don't understand why that has to mean somebody made me feel bad."
Pammi's expression softened slightly, although the concern remained as she reached across the table and rested her hand over Geet's. "Because you're my daughter, and I want to know that you are doing this because you want to feel healthy rather than because someone has made you believe there is something wrong with you."
"There isn't anything wrong with me," Geet replied without hesitation, squeezing her mother's fingers before giving her a reassuring smile. "I know that, Mumma. I'm not planning to stop eating or starve myself or suddenly spend my life thinking about being thin, because I like food far too much for any of that anyway, but I want to exercise properly and maybe stop treating vegetables like they personally offended me."
Mohinder finally looked up from his plate with exaggerated surprise. "I would like that last sentence officially recorded because your mother and I have waited 13 years to hear you voluntarily mention vegetables."
Geet immediately turned towards him with a glare. "Papa, I was trying to have a serious conversation."
"I am being serious," Mohinder insisted, although the smile tugging at his mouth ruined the effect. "This is a very important family moment."
"Mumma, control your husband."
Pammi laughed despite herself before squeezing Geet's hand again. "If you want to become healthier because you want to feel stronger, then I'll help you," she promised, although her expression became serious once more as she added, "but the moment I think you are standing in front of mirrors worrying about whether you are thin enough for other people, we stop and talk about it."
Geet smiled as she nodded. "Deal."
That was the truth.
There had certainly been moments when she was younger when Maan's teasing genuinely hurt her feelings, and there were still clothes she avoided because they made her uncomfortable, but Geet did not hate herself and had never looked into a mirror wishing she could become somebody entirely different.
She simply wanted to discover whether she could change something because she had decided to.
The same way she had changed her marks.
That thought excited her more than becoming thinner ever could.
Pammi approached Geet's new goal with the enthusiasm of a woman who owned a successful catering company and therefore considered food both a profession and a personal responsibility, which meant Geet soon discovered that becoming healthier did not involve the miserable plates of lettuce she had imagined.
Within days, Pammi had explained portion sizes, proteins, vegetables and meals that would keep her fuller for longer, although Geet immediately established one important condition by informing her mother that anybody attempting to remove dessert from her life would lose her cooperation completely.
Pammi, who knew her daughter well enough not to argue with impossible demands, agreed that dessert could remain.
Exercise proved considerably less enjoyable.
Geet began with long walks alongside Meera after school, although during the 1st week they spent so much time complaining that neither was entirely convinced their pace counted as exercise, while by the 2nd week they had started timing the route and competing against their previous best.
By the end of the month, Geet no longer dreaded putting on her trainers.
Several weeks later, Avantika suggested both girls join her for yoga in the Khurana garden on weekend mornings, and Geet accepted with unreasonable confidence before discovering that flexibility was another ability she had apparently failed to inherit.
Maan discovered that weakness one Saturday morning when he returned from playing football with Yash and Aditya and walked into the garden to find Avantika standing calmly on one mat while Meera and Geet occupied the 2 beside her.
Geet was attempting to balance on one leg.
Attempting being the important word.
Her arms stretched awkwardly to either side while she wobbled enough to make Meera laugh, and Avantika, who was somehow holding the same position without appearing to exert any effort, reminded her to stop staring at the ground and focus on something in front of her.
Maan stopped walking.
Yash, who had been directly behind him, nearly collided with his back before looking around his shoulder. "Why did you stop?" Yash asked, following Maan's gaze towards the garden.
Neither boy had time to say anything else because Geet lost her balance at that exact moment and fell sideways into Meera, sending both girls tumbling onto the grass.
Maan's laughter was immediate.
Geet pushed herself upright and turned towards him so quickly that the expression on her face only made him laugh harder.
"You look ridiculous," Maan informed her as he moved closer, dropping the football beside one of the chairs while Yash and Aditya joined him.
Geet brushed several blades of grass from her leggings before placing both hands on her hips. "Thank you for your support," she replied dryly, fixing him with a glare that would have been considerably more effective had her hair not been sticking messily across one cheek.
Maan pointed towards her as his laughter eased. "I am being supportive because I could have taken my phone out and recorded that."
"You would have done exactly that if your phone had already been in your hand," Geet accused him before returning to her mat.
"Obviously," Maan admitted without shame.
Geet rolled her eyes and moved back into position, and while Maan had expected another argument, she simply raised her arms and tried the pose again.
He watched her for several seconds before something finally registered.
"You're exercising?" Maan asked, the surprise in his voice making Geet lower one arm and look at him.
"That is generally what yoga is," she replied, while Avantika shook her head at both of them and told Geet to concentrate.
Maan ignored his mother's instruction as he folded his arms. "You hate exercise."
"I hated PE," Geet corrected him, carefully trying to position her foot again.
"You hate walking upstairs."
"I still hate stairs."
Yash laughed from behind his friend, but Maan continued looking at Geet as though she had presented him with a mystery requiring an explanation. "Why are you doing it then?"
Geet lowered her arms completely this time and glanced down at the mat before understanding what he meant. "Because I want to," she answered simply.
"That's it?" Maan questioned, his brows drawing together.
Geet reached for the bottle of water beside her mat and twisted the cap open before giving him a knowing look. "Before you ask, no, nobody said anything to me, nobody bullied me and this isn't because you call me football," she explained as she took a drink.
Maan's expression changed slightly. "I wasn't going to ask that."
Geet lowered the bottle and raised one eyebrow. "You were thinking it."
For once, Maan did not immediately argue because she was right, although he had not realised until she said it aloud that part of him had genuinely wondered whether someone had made Geet feel uncomfortable about herself.
When she continued looking at him, waiting for some response, Maan finally nodded. "If you're doing it because you want to feel fitter, then good," he said, and the sincerity in his voice made Geet's expression soften for a brief moment.
Then Maan glanced towards her mat and added, "Although your balance is terrible, so you clearly need the practice."
Geet immediately threw the bottle cap towards him.
Maan caught it before it reached his chest, his grin returning as he held it up between his fingers. "There she is."
Geet glared at him while holding out her hand for the cap, and for a moment the exchange felt exactly like the hundreds of arguments they had shared throughout childhood.
Only something had changed beneath the familiarity.
Neither of them understood what yet.
The physical changes came slowly enough that Geet barely noticed them herself.
There was no morning when she woke up and suddenly looked like a different person, no dramatic transformation that caused everyone around her to stop and stare, and no particular number on a scale that convinced her she had finally reached some imaginary version of perfection.
Instead, she noticed smaller things.
The stairs leading towards her science classroom stopped leaving her breathless.
She could walk further without automatically searching for somewhere to sit.
The exercises Avantika taught them became easier.
Clothes that had once felt tight became more comfortable, while Pammi occasionally had to adjust something because Geet had grown out of it differently than expected.
Her face gradually lost some of its childhood roundness, while the rest of her body changed naturally as she grew taller and moved further away from childhood.
Her confidence changed faster.
Several months after she began, Geet felt stronger, healthier and considerably more comfortable with physical activity, although she still ate cake whenever Pammi baked, stole chips from Yash's plate whenever he looked away and maintained that salads became far more enjoyable when followed by dessert.
Becoming healthier had not required becoming somebody else.
That mattered to her.
Other people noticed eventually.
Family members began commenting during gatherings, usually telling Pammi how much weight Geet had lost or asking Geet what she had been doing, and although she accepted most of the remarks politely, she disliked the way some people spoke as though her previous body had been an unfortunate problem they were all relieved to see disappearing.
At one family lunch, an older aunt looked Geet over while she stood beside Pammi near the dining table and announced approvingly that Geet was becoming very pretty now that she had lost some weight.
Pammi's smile disappeared immediately.
Across the room, Avantika looked over too.
Neither woman managed to speak before Geet turned towards the aunt with a perfectly pleasant expression and replied, "I was pretty before as well, Auntie."
The woman blinked, clearly not expecting the answer.
Geet smiled politely before reaching across the table and helping herself to another piece of naan as though nothing unusual had happened.
Meera, who had heard the entire exchange from beside her, nearly choked on her drink.
Across the table, Maan lowered his gaze towards his plate, although not quickly enough to hide the smile spreading across his face.
Later that afternoon, he found Geet and Meera sitting on the low garden wall outside, sharing a bowl of fruit while talking about school, and instead of continuing towards Yash and Aditya, who were arguing near the other end of the garden, Maan stopped in front of them.
Geet looked up at him as she bit into a strawberry. "What?"
Maan folded his arms and repeated her earlier statement with obvious amusement. "You were pretty before as well?"
Geet swallowed before lifting her brows. "Yes."
"Very confident."
"Very accurate," she corrected him without hesitation.
Meera laughed beside her while Maan shook his head, although the teasing response he had intended to give never arrived because he found himself looking at Geet properly.
The change was undeniable now.
Her face was slimmer than it had been a year earlier, although the softness had not disappeared completely, and her features were beginning to lose the roundness of childhood while becoming more defined, but the difference that held his attention had far less to do with her appearance than with the way she carried herself.
There was a certainty in Geet that had not existed before.
At 13, she no longer looked like the little girl who waited for everyone else to decide whether she could join them, nor did she immediately seek reassurance whenever somebody challenged her.
She still laughed too loudly, argued whenever she believed she was right and spoke with her hands whenever she became excited, but there was something steadier beneath all of it now.
Maan noticed.
The more uncomfortable realisation came when he noticed himself noticing.
His gaze lingered for a second longer than it should have before he looked away towards Yash and Aditya.
Geet did not notice.
Meera did.
She said nothing.
The following school term brought another change Geet had not planned for because, although she had never particularly cared whether boys noticed her, boys had started noticing her anyway.
It did not happen dramatically or all at once.
The 1st boy suddenly began asking to borrow her English notes despite having several friends in the same class who had copied exactly the same material.
Geet lent them to him without thinking anything of it.
Another boy started appearing beside her locker often enough for Meera to become suspicious.
Geet assumed he happened to use the same corridor.
The 3rd boy actually stopped beside them one afternoon and told Geet that she looked nice before walking away with an embarrassed smile.
Geet thanked him politely and continued towards class.
Meera managed to remain silent until they reached the end of the corridor before grabbing her best friend's arm and pulling her to a stop. "You genuinely don't know, do you?" she asked, staring at Geet as though she had discovered an entirely new level of obliviousness.
Geet frowned as she adjusted the books in her arms. "Know what?"
"That boy likes you."
Geet looked over her shoulder towards the corridor before turning back towards Meera. "Which boy?"
"The one who literally just stopped to tell you that you looked nice," Meera replied, lowering her voice when several students walked past them.
Geet shrugged. "He was being polite."
"He has never spoken to you before."
"That doesn't automatically mean he likes me."
"He was staring at you through half of science yesterday," Meera pointed out, folding her arms while waiting for some sign that the information mattered.
Geet considered it for a moment before shifting her books more comfortably against her chest. "All right."
Meera stared at her. "That's it?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know, react."
Geet laughed softly before resuming her walk towards class, forcing Meera to follow beside her. "It's nice, I suppose, but I don't know him, and I have a science test tomorrow that I care about considerably more than whether some boy stared at me yesterday."
Meera shook her head as she followed her. "You're weird."
Geet immediately nudged her shoulder against hers. "You're the one monitoring who looks at me."
"I'm observant."
"You're nosy."
Meera smiled. "That too."
Geet forgot about the conversation almost immediately.
Maan did not.
He heard about it 2 days later while sitting in the Handa living room with Yash and Aditya, both of whom were arguing over what to watch, when Yash casually mentioned that apparently some boy at school had started following Geet around.
Maan looked away from the television almost immediately. "What boy?" he asked, his attention suddenly far more focused than it had been moments earlier.
Yash shrugged while continuing to scroll through the channels. "I don't know. Meera mentioned something."
Maan's gaze immediately shifted towards the dining table, where Meera and Geet were sitting several metres away with their schoolbooks spread between them. "Meera," he called, waiting until his sister looked up before asking, "what boy?"
Meera frowned as though she had no idea what he meant. "What boy?"
"The boy following Geet."
Geet lifted her head at that.
Meera glanced towards her friend before turning back towards Maan. "Nobody is following her. I said a boy likes her."
Maan's expression tightened slightly. "Who?"
Geet slowly placed her pen down.
The amusement on her face appeared before she even spoke. "Why do you want to know?" she asked, leaning back in her chair as she looked towards him.
Maan met her gaze. "Because I asked."
"That explains the question, not why you care."
Yash looked away from the television now.
Aditya lowered the volume.
Maan noticed both of them listening and became more irritated. "You're 13."
Geet raised her eyebrows. "I know how old I am."
"So who is he?"
"I don't even know whether he likes me," Geet explained, picking her pen up again before gesturing towards Meera with it. "She decided that because apparently telling somebody they look nice is now evidence of eternal love."
"It is not eternal love," Meera protested, turning towards her. "I said he has a crush on you."
Geet gave her a pointed look before returning her attention to Maan. "There you go. Mystery solved."
Maan was not satisfied. "What's his name?"
Geet stared at him for several seconds before slowly asking, "Why are you behaving like Papa?"
Yash laughed immediately, leaning back against the sofa as he looked towards his friend, while Aditya's expression became considerably more interested.
Maan frowned. "I'm not behaving like your father."
"You are asking his name, how old I am and why he likes me," Geet pointed out, counting each example against her fingers before looking at him expectantly. "What exactly were you planning to do once you found out?"
"I wasn't planning anything."
"Then why do you care?"
The question should have been easy.
Maan had known Geet almost her entire life.
Yash was his best friend.
Their families had raised them together.
He had spent years protecting her without ever questioning the instinct.
There were dozens of perfectly reasonable explanations.
Yet when Geet looked at him and waited, the answer that came out was the simplest one available.
"Because you're basically my little sister."
Something shifted in Geet's expression.
It was so brief that Maan almost missed it, although Meera, who had been watching both of them carefully, noticed immediately.
Geet looked at him for another second before nodding once and lowering her gaze towards her book. "Right," she replied quietly as she picked up her pen. "Then you don't need to worry because your little sister can handle a boy telling her she looks nice."
Maan should have felt relieved.
Instead, something about the way she said little sister left him strangely dissatisfied.
He watched her for several seconds, but Geet had already returned to discussing the question in front of her with Meera, clearly considering the conversation finished.
Yash eventually turned the television volume back up while Aditya began complaining about the channel he had chosen, and within minutes the room returned to normal.
Maan did not.
His gaze drifted towards Geet again.
She was leaning over Meera's notebook while explaining something, completely unconcerned with whichever boy apparently liked her and equally unconcerned with Maan's opinion about it.
He told himself that should reassure him.
Geet was only 13.
She was Yash's younger sister.
She had practically grown up inside his house.
Of course he was protective.
Of course he wanted to know who was interested in her.
Of course it meant nothing more.
The explanations were reasonable enough that Maan accepted them without questioning why he had disliked hearing about another boy in the first place.
For now, that was enough.
What Maan did not yet understand was that Geet's transformation had very little to do with the weight she was losing, the marks she was gaining or the attention boys were beginning to give her.
The real change was happening somewhere much deeper.
For the 1st time in her life, Geet Handa was learning that she did not need anybody else to tell her she was clever, attractive, capable or worth noticing because she was beginning to believe those things without permission.
Maan Singh Khurana, who had spent years assuming Geet would always look towards him for attention, approval or reassurance, had not yet realised what that meant for him.
He only knew that she no longer answered every time he called her football, no longer abandoned whatever she was doing the moment he walked into a room and no longer seemed particularly interested in whether he was impressed by anything she accomplished.
Maan had spent most of their childhood wanting Geet to stop following him.
Now, whenever she walked ahead without looking back, he was beginning to notice just how often he was the one watching her go.
I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, please do hit the like and comment.
Cricket
Yeh Fitoor Tera
Geet - Hui Sabse Parayee
