FF: Asya - Written in the Skies (Part 19/pg.80) - Page 3

Originally posted by: loveuarmaanu

nice part
but where is my asad yaar 😳

Originally posted by: -KSGsmitten-

Unreserved page 2. 😆

Introduce Asad soon na... I'm dying for that brilliant scene of AsYa's first meeting!

Great update but ZoyAan pisses me off big time. 😆

Originally posted by: pinky06

Wow awsome 👏

the best part I looved in this part was zoya imagining long walks at the beach,talking to her lover...

I looved this mature Zoya 😊

I want baada walls update...

Continue soonish 😃

N yesss m the first one to comment 😃...thanku sooo much for the pm 😳

i very special thanks to my lovely friends KSGsmittn😉 & Pinky 😊

Part 3

Now, as Zoya stood in the dorm room, thinking about seeing him again after an entire year had passed, she was already trying to prepare herself for the possibility that all Ayaan would ever be was a friend. The prospect was disheartening, but she felt certain of his friendship, and that meant a great deal to her too.

Behind Zoya, Humairah walked out of the closet with her last armload of clothes and dumped them on the bed beside an open suitcase. "You're thinking of Ayaan," she teased. "You always get that dreamy look on your _" She broke off as the famous jock arrived in the doorway. They started packing. Behind them, Ghafoor Siddiqui walked in a half hour early and came to a halt, his face darkening with fury as he looked at the young men. "What the hell is going on in here?"

The three occupants of the room froze, and then Zoya stepped in and tried to smooth matters over by hastily introducing the boy to her father. Ignoring her effort, he jerked his head at the door. "Out!" he snapped, and when he'd left, he turned on the girls. "I thought the rules of this school prohibited men other than fathers from entering this goddamned building."

He didn't "think" that, he knew it. Two years ago, he'd paid a surprise visit on Zoya, and when he arrived at the dorm at four o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, he'd seen boys sitting around downstairs in the dorm's lounge area, just inside the main doors. Before that weekend, male visitors had been allowed into the lounge on weekend afternoons. After that day, males were banned from entering the building at all times. Ghafoor had gotten the rules changed himself by storming into the administrator's office and accusing her of everything from gross negligence to contributing to the delinquency of minors, then he threatened to notify all the parents of those facts and to cancel the large annual endowment the Siddiqui family gave to Delhi Highschool.

Now Zoya fought down her fury and humiliation over his behavior to the boy who'd done nothing to warrant his wrath. "In the first place," she said, "the school year ended yesterday, so the rules don't apply. Secondly, he was only trying to help us stack these boxes for shipping so we can leave""

"I was under the impression," he interrupted, "that I was coming here this morning to do all that. I believe that was why I got out of bed at"" He broke off his tirade at the sound of the administrator's voice.

"Excuse me, Mr. Siddiqui," she said. "You have an urgent phone call downstairs."

When he left to take his call, Zoya sank down on the bed and Humairah slammed her Coke onto the desk. "I cannot understand that man!" she said furiously. "He's impossible! He won't let you date anyone he hasn't known since babyhood, and he scares off everyone else who tries. He gave you a car for your sixteenth birthday, and he won't let you drive it. I have four brothers, and combined they're not as overbearingly protective as your father is!" Unaware that she was only adding to Zoya's angry frustration, she walked over and sat down beside her. "Zoe, you have to do something about him, or this summer is going to be worse than the last one for you. I'm going to be gone for half of it, so you won't even have me to hang around with." The staff at Delhi high school had been so impressed with Humairah's grades and her artistic talent that they'd gotten her a six-week European scholarship, where the chosen student was allowed to select whatever city best suited her future career plans. Humairah had decided on Rome and enrolled in a course on interior design there.

Zoya slumped back against the wall. "I'm not as worried about this summer as I am about three months from now." Humairah knew she was referring to the battle she was having with her father over which college to attend.

Several universities had offered Humairah full scholarships, and she'd chosen Delhi University because Zoya was planning to go there. Zoya's father, however, had insisted she apply to Mumbai University, which was little more than an exclusive finishing school in a Mumbai suburb. Zoya had compromised by applying to both, and she'd been accepted by both. Now she and her father were in a complete standoff on the issue. "Do you honestly think you're going to be able to talk him out of sending you to Mumbai?"

"I am not going there!"

"You know that and I know that, but your father is the one who has to agree to pay the tuition."

"Maybe I should talk to him privately and try to convince him to let you go to Delhi."

Zoya shot her a wry look. "What do you think that would accomplish?"

Bending over, Humairah gave a frustrated yank on her left sock and retied her shoe. "The same thing it accomplished the last time I stood up to him and took your side"he'd start thinking I'm a bad influence on you." In order to prevent Ghafoor from thinking exactly that, Humairah had, except once, treated Ghafoor Siddiqui like a beloved, respected benefactor who'd gotten her admitted to Delhi Highschool. Around him she was the personification of deferential courtesy and feminine decorum, a role that was so opposite to her blunt, outspoken personality that it chafed on her terribly and usually made Zoya laugh.

Now Humairah felt again that same impotent anger and bewilderment at the rigid restrictions he imposed on Zoya. "Do you really, honestly believe," she said, "that the reason he acts like your watchdog is because your mother cheated on him?"

"She didn't cheat on him just once; she was a total s**t who slept with everyone from horse trainers to truck drivers after they were married. She purposely made a laughingstock out of my father by having flagrant affairs with sleazy nobodies. Ayaan told me last year, when I asked him, what his parents knew about her. Evidently, everybody knew what she was like."

"You told me all that, but what I don't understand," Humairah continued bitterly, "is why your father acts like lack of morals is some kind of genetic flaw you might have inherited."

"He acts that way," Zoya replied, "because he partially believes it."

They both looked up guiltily as Ghafoor Siddiqui walked back into the room. One look at his grim face and Zoya forgot her own problems. "What's wrong?"

"Your grandfather died this morning," he said in a dazed, gruff voice. "A heart attack. I'll go and check out of the hotel and get my things. I've arranged for both of us to get on a flight that leaves in an hour." He turned to Humairah. "I'll rely on you to drive my car back home." Zoya had talked him into driving instead of flying so that Humairah could ride back with them.

"Of course I will, Mr. Siddiqui," Humairah said quickly. "And I'm very sorry about your father."

When he left, Humairah looked at Zoya, who was staring blankly at the empty doorway. "Zoe? Are you okay?"

"I guess so," Zoya said in an odd voice.

"Is this grandfather the guy who married his secretary years ago?"