Adolescence of Love - Chap15/Pg136 (11/29) - Page 80

Should I start off here too? No. Right nj?

recap:

"Atul!"

Her call was more determined this time, but it never reached him cause a gush of loud giggles from the doorway drowned the sound of her. Transiently, hearing her own name spoken aloud among other names and exclamations, she exchanged smiles over the distance with the bunch of girls who had arrived, in greeting. Before turning her eyes back to Atul who was having a word with Abhimanyu.

"Thanks!" she muttered inaudibly, for the odd peace she had found in knowing he hadn't been bluffing ... She'd have to quit being so judgmental... someday.

***

... If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long-forgotten snow ...

With the back of her healthy hand, she brushed away the unshed tears fogging her vision. Ridhima leaned backwards against the wall, swallowing hard. The words were an echo of her life. And Armaan Malik, who knew nothing of it at all, had taken the liberty to write her off as a whiny wretch ... How could he! It was him... the meanest wretch ever!

***

"This isn't like Malik. He can handle his jokes alright... " Abhimanyu mused keeping his note low. "Better than his drinks anyway." He added, inconclusive about the situation - with the way Armaan had been on the verge of leaving, then had not, then had excused himself dismissing discussion of the matter for now. "Whatever could she do to piss him off like that!... Or is it hasty to suspect only her?"

"Can't say." Atul whispered back at last, after having been thoughtfully quiet. "One tends to think they're getting to know her ... but there's only so much to Ridhima Gupta that meets the eye ..." He said, verbalizing one opinion, from the contradicting few inside his head. Formed primarily from the strange set of facts Anjali had only just made him privy to. It didn't answer Abhimanyu directly, and Atul stood figuring a way to elaborate without letting on the details, cause for fairly odd reasons he wanted Armaan to be the first to know ...

A low creaking silenced the hushed whispers around, including their own, and a path of

dim light widened slowly as the main door opened. A single pointed heel clanked against the tiled floor, then after some tentative seconds, the other matched in sound.

"Ridzi ... ?"

"SURPRISE!!!"

The hall came to life and the brilliant lights shone right back. But even through eyes half closed to block out the momentary blinding brightness, Abhimanyu caught a glimpse of her standing like a wide eyed doe dazed by a headlight on a highway. The hall filled with shrieks and many from around him rushed ahead to wish the bummed birthday girl. Unknowingly, with his gaze stuck on her, he inhaled sharply, and held onto his breath. His feet of some subconscious will removing him out of her line of sight ...

***

Did it mean what she apprehended? Could he really like Ridhima? Was she, Nikita Malhotra, just his means? Suddenly, Nikki was feeling exceedingly skeptical about the last few minutes, Ridhima's ease and familiarity around him, while she stood feeling odd, out of place, caught like a third between the two ... But Ridzi... could she like Abhimanyu? Did she? Oh but how repelling was the very thought!

Swamped with the disturbing ideas, it only just struck her, that he had not said one nice thing about the way she looked. He didn't even seem to have noticed! Now that was a sign, and not a good one at that. No! She had to stop thinking this way...

"So ... how's football going?" She changed the topic in somewhat desperate measure. Hoping to not have sounded too perturbed.

Not that she gave one damn about the game. But he did, and it was the only thing she could think of to interest him given her befuddled state of mind. Her resolve to distract herself from this dilemma was worth a bland topic, she couldn't let the negativity get to her, spoiling her cheerful mood, on her very special day. When she'd been gloating not long ago that nothing could. Discomfited, she wrung her hands.

***

From a distance, Ridhima moving through the guests, exchanged greetings and compliments, without losing sight of them. Still standing together, they were each an evident bundle of nerves that they were pretending not to be. She rolled her eyes.

And how exactly had this guy put up a show of that 'ragging' bravado, once upon a time? Targeting the same girl whom he could not engage in a harmless conversation currently!

She considered walking back to them to offer more of her cupid assistance. And she almost did set off on the mission too.

Except the sight of him which held her back in the step.

Armaan Malik.

***

"Touche!" He muttered through his teeth, winking, and stifling more laugh.

"If it lets you sleep better at night, I don't give one damn about Beckham! Or any of this for that matter." Abhimanyu raised an eye in teasing amusement at her indignant defense - which was what he made of her truthful confession. For Nikita, his continuance of mockery, silent even if, despite her outburst was the final straw! "You know what... actually, never you mind! I'm so done with this playing pretend nonsense!" Without a warning, or one that had he didn't perceive in time, she turned upon her heel, and it was after she'd already moved some feet away from him when he realized she was serious.

"Oh shit!" he muttered, hastening up behind her, "Nik...Nikita! ... Hey wait on, will you? Nikita! Come on, I was just...teasing...Nikki!"

***

She had been the one to tell Armaan Malik to stay out of her way, and she had no business to be disturbed by his compliance of as much. Ridhima sighed, her shoulders unknowingly slumping, and it was some more seconds before she realized her gaze had been wistfully fixated in his direction although she'd ceased to stare at him as such. She realized it, because on account of some primitive human instinct, she sensed being watched, and that was how she caught Atul's eye upon herself, a curious watchfulness cross his face. Embarrassed and instantly coloring, she chickened out averting her eyes, before thinking better and mustering up a polite smile for him, not convincing enough to quite fulfill its purpose, she dreaded, cause even in his responding nod, the curiosity lingered.

Damn, she swore mentally, spinning around upon her heel. What was with all the messy spots she kept getting herself into this evening! She had a morbid idea of having promoted unnecessary ideas... and what if ... shit, Atul was totally going to mention it to Armaan and... god what would he think?! She didn't know why she even cared, cause it couldn't get any worse than whatever she had led him to think of her in the kitchen anyways. Still...Fretting inside, she wove her way through chattering groups, inattentively, all the time swearing in undertones.

Until she was quite out of names to call herself, and somewhat out of breath too. Resignedly, she decided it was beyond her to help whatever was done.

Ridhima drew in a long, troubled and resigning breath ... Armaan Malik was disrupting her system. And she had to stop giving a damn. She was never going to understand him anyways. Ever.

***

Pre Note:

Dear Prathi: this one is for you =)

Dear Nutterz: this one is also for our day (a couple days too late now!)

Dear all: Here's wishing you guys a belated Happy Diwali, hoping it was bright, safe and *cough* loud for you! (yeh, fireworks are my not so secret dark passion - Diwali isn't the same without them, sorry environmentalist, he he!) Eid Mubaraq too, today it is I think, or just around the corner.

~ Part 12 ~

***

"Nikita..Nik-Nikki, hey hey hey...hold on now!" and saying that he rushed the last steps to block her path up front. "I prefer to be swept off my feet, than be run off them," he joked sheepishly. She shot him a sweetly smile.

"Oh really? I thought you'd prefer the athletic kind!"

He may have thought he understood her jab, but he hadn't quite - definitely not in its entire intention. And Nikki wasn't planning to elaborate. She made to turn right, but he moved quickly to block that, and when she made to turn left, he was no more compromising. Finally, forced to look at him again, she shot him the angriest glare from her intimidating stock.

"If you don't move out of my way this second..." she begun threateningly, but he surprised her to silence, by holding his ears. Playing a classic boy charm expression - crinkled eyes, scrunched up nose and a sneaking smile.

"I'm sorry! I really am..." Stepping back he put his hands up for her in surrender before adding, "You have my word, no more teasing." She was taken aback by his tactic, perhaps because she had not yet seen this easily conceding side to him before - so much that for a second she might just have actually let him off, but she managed to uphold her outer displeasure, which deepened as if she were making up for her momentary lapse, "Okay fine," he said hurriedly to the seeming worsening, "Beckham is awesome, and indispensable, and handsome...and er...and I can't say more than that without sounding gay! But I promise I'll behave. Now don't be angry on your birthday...please?" He still touched upon his ears in apology, and the cuteness of it would have won him his way, if the controversial mention hadn't, unknown to him, put him back to square one.

"I don't give One.Damn.About.Beckham." she said agitatedly. He was either too slow, or too audacious - either way, she was maddened.

"Even better! He wasn't worth one hoot to begin with!" At this, she gave him the most exaggeratedly weary look. "Er... no, I mean..."

"You don't see it do you? I don't give a damn about football, the game! I was insane, no I am insane that I even tried putting up that enthusiastic act for your sake. I mean who cares about rustic, sweaty, cursing, spitting...eww...uncouth...brash...physical... egoistic men, chasing and...fighting for a stupid ball on the field!" With every adjective she aimed at him, his expression underwent a change, a little initially and rapidly towards the end, his hands slipped away from the ears, and his jet black eyes turned half a shade darker. "Oh but you do, right?! Because you're just like that!" An impassive expression had replaced everything else on his face, but the momentum of her tirade didn't keep her from unleashing the final blow. "And hey, guess what? Ridhima loves the game too! Isn't that awesome!" He looked at her, blankly.

"Ridhima...?" Before speaking at last - a quiet, genuine question. The sharpness of her words couldn't but pinch him, cause frankly he hadn't seen himself in such a soup for a mere tease; but her last remark left him inexplicably disquieted.

His query was so guileless, that further berating words were lost upon her. Her eyes rose and fell, rapidly, as she bit her lower lip. Damn, she hadn't meant for that to slip!

***

Armaan was brought to an abrupt halt in his approaching step. The 'she-curse' would not stop interfering with his evening however much he shunned the thought! Dim party lights underplayed the hardening of his expression, but Atul missed nothing; not the gritting of his teeth, nor the slightest twitching of his mouth as if biting back likely swear words. He had caught the mention of her name himself, having tailed Armaan closely, and his first reflex was to seek his reaction. Consequently, he had gotten some clarifying answers. Whatever doubts had founded the debate in his head previously, Atul now knew that the tension between his otherwise jolly friend, and their otherwise gracious hostess, had remained unresolved, so far.

Just for then however, he had to put aside this cause, for the sake of the one at hand.

"The birthday girl up close at last!" Nikita turned around to the sound of a smiling voice from behind herself, and the sight of him softened her frown, somewhat.

"Atul...you're here?" she blurted before thinking, and immediately pursed her lips, mentally whacked her head and stuttered, apologetic and embarrassed at once, "No...no, I mean... hey, I..."

"Happy birthday Nikita!" His wish sounded a relaxing assurance for her, seemingly far from offended. "And just so you know, my own reaction at seeing a one time acquaintance gate crash my surprise party may not have been half as polite!" he shrugged it off lightly, trivializing her awkwardness to nothing. "By the way, is it just tonight, or have you been modestly keeping us in the dark about your coveted demi-celebrity status?!" Inevitably at this, she was giggling, her frown lines vanishing, as she shook her head at his irresistible leg-pulling.

"Thank you! But please, you mustn't embarrass me about this! You're most welcome...anytime...I didn't mean it like that at all..." then spontaneously, she landed hands upon hips and stood taller than usual with a smartened smile, "And what are you 'celebrit-i-zing' me for, Mr. Artist?! I wouldn't dream of tagging your famous presence as gate crashing!"

Atul raised an appreciative eye and smirked at her repartee, acknowledging the quick recovery, and Nikki putting out her hand to him, added. 'Just another tongue tied fan... no hard feelings, yeh?!" With a short laugh he took it, and shook it.

"No hard feelings." and agreed, pressing his lips into his silently good-natured smile. She was paying him back for his tease in kind, but that was good considering he'd sought to penetrate beyond the formal grounds.

Nikki herself, all that while, couldn't help her inner amazement in feeling so instantly at ease with this guy - she wasn't even beginning about how effortlessly her agitation from a minute ago had been diffused. He had some way about it - he was warm, and genuine, and his manner was unbelievably artless for a social being, which he absolutely seemed to be. Faintly, she came to appreciate how someone as uptight as her friend Anjali had befriended this guy in almost no time.

Meanwhile, Abhimanyu's notice failed at nothing. And although a part of him was glad about this timeout and the resultant change in her demeanor, especially, the return of her lovely smile; a much bigger part of him resented not being its cause (quite the contrary in fact). Very frankly all he wanted that moment was to whisk her away and set their mutual records straight, a wanting that overshadowed his gratitude and relief for Atul's savior interruption.

Stepping up from behind, last of the lot though hardly the least, Armaan, overcoming the uncharacteristic reaction that had prevailed over him briefly, mentally patted Atul's sensibility. Reminding himself of his resolve to not spoil the evening for his friends - because they mattered - especially Modi - who did care - however much more or less, admitted or unrealized; and so he proceeded to amend his own passing deviation.

"Why if that isn't the Armaan Malik!"

"Ha ha! You make that sound like the Grand Hyatt or something!"

"As long as it sounds grand, you shouldn't be the one complaining!"

"Aye to whatever you say missy, when you're looking like that...drop.dead.gorgeous!" Armaan said back gallant, naughty and extravagant in expression at once. Then pulling her into a light hug, he wiggled brows at Modi standing to her side, who looked straight back, unobliging with any explicit reaction - verbal or silent. Nikki smiled in the friendly embrace, feeling inexplicably the exact comfort in this company that she had lacked only just previously. A fleeting wish inside her wished, while crushing the urge of sneaking a side glance, that things could be the same way with him. But she brushed it aside determined to not make anymore mistakes with her other guests.

"Happy Birthday Chi..." Armaan started out of reflex in his attempt to elicit a reaction out of Abhi, but stopped. Even before Modi's startled glare had to snub him, because this was a rare instance of Armaan's own discretion. Nikki however, rendered curious at his incomplete wish, pulled out with a raised eye.

"Chikki!" He completed for her benefit. Out of no where at all! And playing his trademark Malik smile to all advantage, he mentally marveled and applauded his own spontaneity.

"Chikki?!" She repeated, her expressions forming in stark contrast to his - pinched nose, a disapproving pout and disdain in her tone.

For the onlooking Abhimanyu, the distraction her sulking stance served was so strong that momentarily, all his agitation lay forgotten, as beholding the childlike sight of her now, something came to an abrupt halt inside of him, while something else was set racing. Could this girl get any more cute...and endearing... He could only just stare at her, unquestioning of this attraction that like a vortex sucked in all his other thoughts, meaning more than ever to pull her away from this scene so he had her to himself. The consequent afterthought snapped him out of his dreamy mental suspension, and he scowled at Armaan, blaming him for barging in, and engaging Nikita in his fanciful nothing antics. And Chikki?! Yuck!

"Yuck!" Abhimanyu reeled at her exclaim, his head shooting up, when she stole and spelled the exact word...this was eerie! "How juvenile are you to twist my name like that?" Nikki scolded an unabashed Armaan.

Atul shook his head - he was getting to do so a lot many times this evening - knowing exactly where this was going. Abhimanyu was obviously rising to the bait, and any minute now Nikita Malhotra was going to witness an infamous extract right out of Nilgiri hostel's M-V-M chapter. This once, he didn't even consider making peace - a wise man knows where his abilities stand, and exactly how far they can succeed him.

"You underestimate my genius," Malik was explaining to her in the meanwhile, with an altogether exasperating calm, neither missing Modi, nor his rewarding scowl from the corner of his eye, "Its 'Chic' plus 'Nikki'...Chikki - you see?" Abhimanyu's scowl became live murder, and Nikki's verbal whining progressed to physical assault, as Armaan received a whack on his arm. "Ouch! Chikki!" It earned him one more.

"Don't call me that!"

"But why, Chikki?" Whack!

"It sounds gay!"

"Does not, Chikki!" Whack!

"Does too, Malik!"

"Trust me, its much better than other version(s)." He asserted solemnly, rubbing his upper attacked left arm in deliberate effort, then crafted a careful side look at Abhimanyu. Atul coughed to smother what would have been a treacherous laugh.

"Other... versions?" She looked highly dubious especially since it had suspiciously appeared to her as if Armaan was seeking siding up from Abhimanyu on the matter. Oh he had better not even consider! Modi himself decided Malik had had enough of his field day.

"Nikki," he began, but the glint he met in her eyes was indication that he had not been redeemed, yet, despite the evident change of temperature around them. Affectedly, he corrected himself, "Nikita...er...can I...talk to you for a moment?"

"Like alone?" Armaan uttered, pronouncing the 'alone' with a borderline scandalized wide eyed look. Without a warning, he was beside Atul (who shifted warily making some distance between them) and said "Are we intruding something here?" Inside Abhimanyu's head was already a vision of Armaan being a dead man. On the outside, he didn't get a chance to implement the same, because Nikki, disconcerted by Armaan's blunt insinuation, took clarifying upon herself. Not either the way he would he have preferred.

"Of course not," she said firmly, eying Abhimanyu briefly but meaningfully. Atul elbowed Armaan with a 'cut-some-slack-bro' look to which he mocked a helpless shrug, then bit his cheek to keep a straight face, and Abhimanyu swore once, twice, thrice at him - mentally. Avowing to not wait getting inside the gates of IIT to give Malik the deserved answers to his 'innocent' question. But first Nikita had to be mollified.

And, he still had that gift to give her...

"Do you plan to take my gift back with you?" She asked, changing the topic.

It was a second time, that her words had Abhimanyu nearly jumping out of his own skin. This was beyond eerie. Was she reading his mind, literally? But it took him only another second to discover she was addressing Armaan, before glowering at his best foe-friend.

Gruffly he muttered, "He might."

Catching which, the warning for Abhimanyu in Nikki's eyes shot up some notches, causing him to lower his own and swear some more inside his head. On his part, Armaan couldn't help frowning in surprise at Abhimanyu's repeated and unusual submission when he had had one too many chances to impress the girl with some witty comebacks. Subdued strategies were out of style and didn't suit him one bit. To Nikki, when she faced back towards him, Armaan's slight frown misspelled 'being offended'.

"Ignore him," she said with a wave of her hand. At which Armaan brightened up slightly, making a note of how she had taken the liberty to excuse Modi on his behalf, like it was her right. He grinned mysteriously.

"Actually, he has a point, Chikki!" Whack! "Ouch! You're so not getting the gift now!" he declared, flashing the silver pack, and pulling it higher when she tried to reach for it in defiance. He laughed when she made a face crossing her arms, and that was it for Abhimanyu's patience. Abruptly, he snatched the packet out of Armaan's grip and held it out for Nikki. He urged her with a tentative smile, but it faltered for it appeared she would deny taking it from him. Except, Armaan was fast.

"Not fair! You didn't say you guys were a team!" he complained, and Atul read right through his twisted damage control. So Armaan Malik, he thought!

"Well now you know." She replied back tartly, accepting the pack from Abhimanyu just as Armaan had expected while giving him a victorious look. As expected also, Abhimanyu's face showed some relief, which made Armaan smile to himself. On the outside, he pretended to be cross.

"That's cheating!"

"Yeh right! And you're trying to tell me playing your height to vantage was not cheating?"

"I can't help if you're a shortie!"

"Well I can't help if your tall best friend decides to be on my team!" Abhimanyu couldn't hide his surprise looking up to her. Nikki kicked herself, as the instant coloring refused to be hidden when she felt his eyes on herself. Atul shook his head at the scene, one more time, this time in some admiration.

"Of course he wants to be, Chikki!" Whack! "And stop hitting me or I'm going to take the gift right back."

"In.Your.Dreams.Malik." she told him, and stuck out her tongue at him feigning oblivion to the fact that Abhimanyu's eyes were still on her. Wishing and not wishing with equal might that he would look away. Then, pointedly she trained her own focus to the silver pack, tugging at its ribbon to get it undone.

"Chocolates!" she squealed, looking positively elated. "How'd you know I'm the ultimate goner for them!"

"Doesn't take a rocket scientist to think of chocolates for a gift," Abhimanyu muttered in undertones again, luckily this time his words missed, as the transient gracious feeling he had found for Malik rapidly wore off. He felt somewhat let down by her jumping for joy now, when she had not given him half the reaction. It may have been a prejudiced opinion, but it felt much more unfair to him that she attended so much more to this same guy who, unknown to her, had been obstinate to leave the party without so much as wishing her but a short while ago...

And, this was hardly the limelight Abhimanyu wanted to share, even with Armaan Malik. Maybe stopping him had not been such a great idea!

***

"Bhai left for Cape Town!"

Muskaan turned around at the sudden announcement from behind her, and found an unusually flustered looking Ridhima. Unusual, even by her own standards of being edgy as she had appeared to be from early on this evening, now and again.

"I know," she replied back naturally, before the deepening of Ridzi's frown indicated it was not a great reply. She made a candid, and much required amend. "I know he flew out, but Cape Town is news..." ...cause you never let him complete the call, she wanted to remind her, but didn't.

"Apparently, there were forest fires close to the timber place."

"Oh damn, of course, that's it! It was in the afternoon news. I was even meaning to ask Rahul about it...just slipped my mind...amidst all the party plans."

It was evident to Ridhima that Muskaan was thinking out loud, than sharing a conversation at this point. Another day she would have rolled eyes or laughed off at her friend - the straight A's journalism student - for being ever so updated about everything that happened in the world, cause current affairs had always been low on her own priority list. Not today. Ridhima exhaled impatiently. Then not regaining the desired attention, conspicuously cleared her throat.

"Muski!"

"Uh...sorry! You were saying...?"

"I was telling you how Bhai left without a word, but his departure appears to not have been so unannounced after all. Its just me." Muskaan frowned at the tone almost immediately.

"Well it was just you who refused to take his call. Your brother was dying to get a word through to you, and you may know better but I'd suspect he was trying right up to the point the airline staff would have threatened to suspend him from the flight. He even called me, for you, but you cut the call. And switched off my phone. For other commitments." Muskaan's stating was not unkind, but unstoppable, till she had made every point, and Ridhima realized her mistake as the accusation she had raised rebounded. The addition of yet more guilt only disheartened her further.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly, feeling more so for herself beneath all the frustration the bubbled on the surface. Out of habit she wrung her hands, and instant misery etched across her face from the physical pain; but Muskaan who was unaware of that bit about her sore hand misread it as misery on the obvious, current account. It was enough to soften her, and she transformed from the brother's defending girlfriend to the sister's concerned confidante within a matter of seconds.

"Its okay," she said no longer grudging; then ventured to ask, "Anything important you had to talk about?" Ridhima raised a puzzled eye, so she elaborated, "With Rahul I mean." He had seemed vexed about something himself, when he had called her earlier, insisting to be put through to Ridhima.

"Oh. Uhm. No. Yeh, no. Nothing. Nothing important."

Every punctuated, and mostly monosyllabic bit of her sentence was unconvincing and Muskaan saw right through the lie. However, knowing Ridhima, who tried looking everywhere else with occasional watery smiles, while alternately pressing between the teeth her lower lip, which looked like it could do well with a fresh coat of gloss now, Muskaan decided putting off a candid talk until later. If at all, because clearly whatever the matter was, it concerned the brother-sister pair of them. Somethings were within the family, and she could not figure in them - she wasn't family, literally speaking.

So he was off to Cape Town. She thought it rung a bell somewhere inside her head, but she couldn't pin down exactly what. Instead, she raked her mind for the news she had only just fleetingly caught on TV during the lunch hour in the mess, for they had been time pressed with all the pending arrangements that time, but decided she recalled its not being too serious. At least, the afternoon bulletin hadn't made a big deal out of it. It struck her abruptly as the reason for Ridhima's worry, and glancing up, she found her friend visibly preoccupied.

"The fires weren't serious Ridzi," she spoke by way of assuring, finding her brother's safety as the reason for her bother. Ridhima's response however, refuted Muskaan's personally evolved understanding.

"I know."

"You watched the news?" Her question was incredulous and it had Ridhima chuckle despite herself.

"Don't get hopeful, news keeping is still your job!" she teased, and Muskaan rolled eyes while inevitably smiling herself. "Mum told me. In fact she said Bhai had to go only to cover up for Dad because he had other work that couldn't be interrupted. She didn't think he'd be gone for more than a couple days though."

"Oh you called home." Muskaan concluded.

"Yeh, when his cell came off. I thought it was odd cause he rarely does that even for meetings." She was rambling distractedly now, Muskaan noticed. "Bhai always prefers to silence his phone when he absolutely must rather than having it switched off. Flights are the exceptions. I should have guessed..." And despite the clarification with regard to the matter, Muskaan did discern how her words were laced with a not so misplaced hurt. It was like stating those trivial routine facts was her self assuring way to undo the feeling that she had not been told - even if there was a solid logical explanation to why. She was disturbed, not just about having been unaware of his sudden trip, but that bit of information had definitely added exponentially to her seemingly complicated state of trouble. And clearly, it wasn't the fires, or business loss or worry for Rahul that were on her mind.

"What's the matter Ridz?"

"Nothing," Ridhima replied hastily then smiled a smile that was a silent understanding for both, "Nothing urgent. Its just a 16 hour flight Mum told me. I'll call him tomorrow morning, its only some hours away..."

She had dialed his number on an impulse after the closely timed and tiresome instances of the previous hour or so. Wanting to talk. She may have not needed to narrate the exact incidents at all, just a few quick words exchanged with her brother may have placated her, cause that was how it had always worked between Rahul and her. He just knew her, and she could trust him with that, always. But the automated answering declaring his number switched off had ticked her more so. Where was he when she just had to talk to him, she had thought, dialing home in consequent reflex, and then she had learned of his going. Just hearing Mum explain had riled her up so much, that she had cut the call short on the pretext of being called away, feeling the coming of an outburst, that she knew was best avoided even with her diminished capability to reason. But it hadn't kept her from feeling ditched, over something so minor now that she thought of it, and deserted. The bout of loneliness she had meant to dispel by talking to Rahul had engulfed her many times over, infuriating her, and upsetting her. This evening had been a wreck from the point of its very inception, she conceded dejectedly, before the sight of Muskaan had made her hurry towards her friend to share some angst...and the rest was history.

Muskaan observed the play of subtle but sure expressions on her face for a few seconds, certain now, that there was something. Something important, and urgent, exactly contrary to Ridhima's claims. But she also understood how her friend was unexceptionally aloof about the matter, and for all dislike of it, she knew she had to sustain her urge to quiz.

"Well I was looking for you anyways," she said, changing the topic with good intention. "What do you think about moving the cake table off its current spot?" Ridhima looked at the table being mentioned, beside which they were both standing right then. "We didn't think of it, but clearing more space in the center of the hall would be awesome for dancing...everyone seems to be quite up for it," Muskaan went on, lightly and even cheerfully with the purpose to change the mood. "I already told Anjali to go bring your pack of party CDs so people can hit the dance floor right away!"

"Hmm."

"Ridzi..." she waited till Ridhima had to look up and meet her eye, "I'm not going to ask you what's wrong one more time, but you're making this hard." Ridhima recoiled within, at this realization which should have occurred to her without prompting, and guiltily cleared her throat. Then going over Muskaan's suggestion in her head, she looked down to the table beside them, and back up at Muskaan with a resolved composure in her smile which partly put Muskaan's test to rest.

"We should totally do it! I'll go call Shakuntala to help move the stuff and shift..."

"Psst! What call Shakuntala?! I sent her to get the food heated and arranged in respective casseroles." Muskaan told her, encouraged by her effort, and getting into the organizing and hosting mode again. They'd planned out this party with ridiculous amount of time, effort, zeal and detailing, and there was no reason good enough to keep them from enjoying it now. She would, and she would make sure Ridhima did too - and they could think about their melancholic fates when tomorrow was here. "And look at this anyways, just a light table and the petty remains of an over three quarters devoured cake...and two strong girls, you and me!" Ridhima laughed at her comic imitation of a WWF wrestler or something.

"Bahut na-insaafi hai!" She quipped, still laughing, even as Muskaan joined in pepping up her usual quacky laughter even more, which made Ridhima shake her head. Feeling lighter, and happier in that moment, as she grinned at her and wondered what had made her feel so lonely in a place where she had friends like Muskaan lurking around.

"Enough fooling now! You grab that side and I'll get this one."

"Right boss," Ridhima shot back, extending her arms as instructed, before it struck her. She stopped short, and swallowed, becoming solemn again.

"What? Hurry up and lets get done with it already! I can't wait to get on with dancing..."

"Erm...Muski...I..."

"You?"

"This table looks lighter than it is." Muskaan crossed her eyes narrowing them to Ridhima's sudden fidgety manner. "I mean...its...its solid...rosewood..." Muskaan sighed, flaying hands into the air in a baffled way.

"What are you talking about? Ridzi! What's wrong with you? No, don't answer that! Just stop being weird. How did the table just become heavy solid rosewood? You were agreeing with my silly statements just seconds ago..."

Ridhima didn't have an answer. Or she did, the one she couldn't give. Didn't want to give... Her injured hand. Muskaan looked miffed now, and Ridhima had this mad urge to kick something really hard this second, something that would best be her fate - what the hell was wrong with this evening! With one last countering thought, she made up her mind.

"I'm sorry. You're right. Let's get it."

And saying that she grit her teeth preparing herself for obvious pain to come the moment she took hold of the table - which could have been feather light to no avail on this account. She pressed her healthy hand to one corner, apprehensively flexed the other gently, but catching Muskaan's skeptical eyes upon her eased a smile and indicated for her to get her side. Which she did, still looking confused by these fickle changes of Ridhima's mind, who finally had to reach out for the fourth and only remaining corner of the table with her battered hand.

"I got it."

She froze, her hand suspended mid air as the sound of him and the familiar whiff she had caught a couple times earlier that evening both reached her at the same time, when he came to step in beside her, getting hold of the two corners on her side of the table. Slightly his hand brushed against her own easing her fingers off the one edge that she had gripped tightly hearing his voice. Flashing a cordial smile at Muskaan, so naturally, that it had Ridhima stunned for the moment.

"Hey Muskaan!"

She heard him speak with the friendliness of that smile, now reflecting in his deep baritone, which dimmed out whatever Muskaan's response to the greeting was. It didn't occur to her to face up and check on her friend's reaction, cause she couldn't pull her eyes off his face, the profile view of it at the moment unknowingly holding her breath to catch his eye. Her thinking had been retarded so greatly, that it were some good seconds later, as the two of them Muskaan and him adjusted their positions balancing the table between them, that disappointment hit her. He hadn't spared her the barest glance, and more sadly than at any other point this evening, and somewhat angrily, she could simply wonder about the one thing.

What was Armaan Malik upto now?

***

PS: I know this was supposed to come like in a few days after part 11, not exactly a month after, as i realized while changing dates on my title but it was also supposed to come in 3-4 installments if that had happened, so maybe its not that hard to excuse me?! 😆

i was trying to keep it short, when intending an earlier update, but neither happened - earlier and short that is... and this what you have consequently, which is still about 19 word pages font size 10 - so much for promises of brevity, tsk! 😆

anyways - so for the most the part should be self explanatory - i also formatted the recap, as usual, just in case - although this seemed so not a bad delay by my usual standards, ahem!

the one obvious dialogue in Hindi is from the immortal blockbuster Sholay - and came as a result of my editing for a BC article he he! it just came, and i'm too much the Sholay crazy fan to have not used :D also, in case some people have forgotten and can't place the terms 'Nilgiri' and M-V-M - Nilgiri is the boys hostel of IIT where my lubly heroes reside 😳😆 and M-V-M from intro or first part is Malik-Vs-Modi 😆

Expecting more comments, and even more likes - considering i'm being nicer with the pace of updates, and also, claiming that i shall improve further on this feat - really! 22nd and 23rd next week are dates of meaning - i'm hoping to get something by then =)

other than that, i know there is lack of direct AR and/or AN but i kinda need what i'm writing here to form my story... besides its not like the four of them are really forgotten! Sakshi said something about missing RM last time, although i didn't get them straight on, there is something to make up for them too, i hope!

and well, enjoy reading. DON'T FORGET to reveal your presence! 😆

so long,

nj 😳

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