Chapter 25: Zoya
INSTEAD OF TAKING THE stairwell by the cafeteria, Asad says he wants to explore a bit of the male wings. And so we move in that direction, despite all the debris in our path. It appears that pieces of the ceiling have collapsed to the floor, making me more than a little nervous about what awaits us upstairs. Asad's in the lead as we move farther down the G-wing, but he slows his pace every few steps so I can keep up. I think he wants to keep me close to him.
The thing is, I'm not really sure how I feel about that.
Prior to coming here tonight, I had heard little snippets about the infamous Asad Player Khan. How could I not have? I mean, I may not be Ms. Sally Social at school, but I do have ears.
And I've heard.
Like that time when I was in the bathroom at school and there was this blond girl crying, saying that Asad Khan totally broke her heart. She didn't even know who I was, but she warned me to stay away from him, calling him a pimp, a liar, and not even worth the effort of her spit—she actually said that.
The time before that, it was second period of the day and Asad got paged down to the principal's office. The entire junior class was abuzz, saying that the reason he got suspended was because he'd ornamented his locker door with a pair of girl's lacy underwear.
I hated him for that. I didn't even know him, but I hated him, especially since hearing all this stuff sort of ruptured the romantic mystery-boy image that I had built up of him inside my head—after that day, freshman year, by the bus circle.
But now, here I am, totally not hating him—totally feeling something, like one of those stupid girls that Imran was talking about, the kind that goes after jerks. I mean, it goes without saying that I had no intention of falling for him. Because, the truth is, I'm not like those girls; I don't go after "bad boys." I don't go after anyone, for that matter. I don't have time. And I'm certainly not one of those girls who likes the challenge of trying to transform the "bad boy" into the "nice guy." I'm way smarter than that.
And I'm not here to make friends.
So how come these people feel more like my friends than those I've known my entire life?
How come I don't even seem to care about Harvard now?
And why does becoming a doctor seem nowhere near as exciting as getting to the bottom of this whole Nikhat Khan mystery?
Or having Asad hold my hand again?
The thing is, he's been nothing but nice to me this entire night, putting my needs way above his own, almost forfeiting his dreams just so I could feel safe.
And for some inexplicable reason that I can't figure out with any equation or look up in any book, I do feel safe with him—even safe enough to stay here, despite all the weird vibes I've been getting from this place; despite how random my behavior has been since I got here.
And despite all the jitters that have been stirring up my insides.
We climb to the top of a stairwell and move down the hallway, our headlights paving through the blackness. This part of the building is beyond dangerous. There are entire sections of flooring that have lost all their ground support, that have caved in on the level below. I keep moving forward, trying my best to watch my step, following Asad's lead as he warns us over and over and over again how we need to be careful.
His camera propped up on his shoulder, still filming our every move, he passes the map to Ayaan and then reaches back to take my hand and lead me over a pile of debris. I ignore it, but then see him grab for my hand anyway.
A moment later, I hear it. A quaking beneath my feet—like the entire floor is erupting.
I scream. My stomach bounds up into my throat.
"Holy shit," Imran yells out.
Before I can dodge it, I've fallen through the floor— one hand barely holding on to Asad's grip, the other clenched on to a thin, rotted piece of floorboard. I feel my fingers slip through Asad's as the weight of my body tugs me downward—deeper through the hole. I struggle to gain a better grip of the floorboard, feeling a jagged piece stab right into my ribs. The more I move, the more the floor crumbles around me, making the hole bigger. I can hear the loose concrete pieces collapse to the floor below.
"Just hold on," Asad says, struggling to get a better grip of my hand. Lying on the ground, he instructs Imran and the others to anchor him in place—to hold his legs from behind so he doesn't fall through as well.
"Hurry!" I shout. My arms shake. The skin over my ribs singes. And the muscles in my fingers are growing weaker by the moment. I turn my head to look down, to see how far it would be to fall. At the same moment, my hand loses its grasp of the floorboard, and I'm just dangling from Asad's grip.
"Look up!" Asad shouts at me.
I crane my head to look back at him. His eyes are wide and urgent like he's just as scared as I am.
"Stay focused right here," he says, blinking. In a fairly stable position now, he grabs both my wrists. He pulls me forward, but the ground crumbles even more, and I scream. Asad slips waist-deep into the hole, but the others pull him back, and he regains positioning.
"Keep focused!" he shouts. "You're not gonna fall."
"Yes I am," I whimper, tears streaming from my eyes. My fingers slip a little farther from his grasp.
"What if I go downstairs," Ayaan offers. "I could try and catch her."
Asad is panting, trying to gain a better grip. And his hand is bleeding. There's a gash in his palm where he must have cut it.
"Two of you go," he says. Using his forearms, he lifts me upward instead of forward. His face is red and strained. The veins in his neck are protruded. He gets me up just high enough so that I can work my knee onto a solid piece of flooring, while the other knee collapses through the floor.
Still, I feel myself pulled forward, against Asad's chest. He rolls me over against his body, like tumbling from a fire, until we reach stable ground.
"Are you all right?" he says once we've stopped.
I nod, noticing how he's still gripping my hand, hoping that he never lets go.
Pati Patni Aur Panga
Jaane Anjaane Hum Mile
Tum Se Tum Tak
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Vasudha
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