Page 101 - The World's Best Boyfriend

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‘I don’t want to get a zero in the first assignment itself. We shouldn’t have gone

out. I could have copied the assignment in time,’ complained a scared Ritika on
the phone.
‘Raghuvir is not a fool. He would have seen through it, that you had copied.
Trust me. You will not get a zero.’

Dhruv had made Ritika submit pages with only her name neatly scribbled on
the top. He had told her he would handle it. Ritika, Instagram-obsessed and a

raging bulimic, had not really struck Dhruv as someone who would care about
missed assignments.
‘I love you,’ said the girl.
‘. . .’

‘Why don’t you say it back?’ asked Ritika.
‘You wouldn’t want me to.’

‘Why is that?’
‘Because when I do, I tend to stick to it and it doesn’t end well. For me as well
as the girl I am in love with. I will be an asshole at the end of it all and you
would be a crying mess,’ answered Dhruv.

‘You don’t scare me,’ said Ritika.
Dhruv imagined her rolling over her nice and clean bed, maybe in a tiny pair

of shorts and stringy spaghetti.
‘I need to go,’ said Dhruv.
‘What are you going to do?’

‘Leave that to me.’ Dhruv disconnected the call, put on a T-shirt and knocked
on Sanchit’s door which was shut but not locked. He found Sanchit supine on his
tattered bean bag. The room reeked of alcohol and weed and unwashed boxers,

and there were two women touching each other on his laptop screen. He was
watching it with such piercing intensity one would think it was The Shawshank
Redemption playing on his laptop.

‘Hey.’
‘Shut up, this is my best scene.’
Sanchit never took the pain of turning the volume down during his private

porn screenings. The dirtiness is in their moans, he used to say.