Page 136 - The World's Best Boyfriend

put in a few questions in the examination from this topic . . .’
Write down everything he says.
But look how gorgeous!

WRITE. STUFF. DOWN.
But?
What but?

I said butt. Look at his butt.
And look at yours, fatso Aranya.
What about it?

It’s like a continent. And his is like a cute little island. There’s no way the
tectonic plates of yours and his are going to meet.
Fine.

Fine.
Raghuvir wielded the chalk like a samurai and no one saw how it happened
but the board was filled with equations so dizzying it looked like they had spilled

over to the walls, slowly creeping up to the windows, and would soon engulf the
students in their wake. He made physics trippy.
Aranya’s daydream of Raghuvir as a celestial DJ who spun out equations was

rudely interrupted when the door was banged open and Dhruv crawled in,
smelling like rug rat, face swollen, eyes bloodshot and his hand extended like
sculpted warriors at traffic intersections. He was still in a pair of strategically

torn jeans and white linen shirt with three buttons open, his muscular cleavage
visible from afar.
‘Excuse me?’ asked Raghuvir.

With Dhruv’s hand still pointing in Ritika’s direction, he answered Raghuvir.
‘I love her.’ He looked at Ritika who was now crying. ‘I love you. Don’t try to
run from me. I really do.’

Such a fucking drama queen, Aranya thought. This is a physics class, damn it.
Ritika stood up from her seat and said she loved him too, snot and tears
obscuring her face. Beautiful, just beautiful. Aranya held her head, embarrassed.

What was happening? How can this be a self-respecting college and why wasn’t
Raghuvir aiming the duster at Dhruv’s head? Raghuvir stood there, amused, and
Aranya felt like apologizing to him like it was her fault.

The bell rang and Raghuvir collected his books and walked out like it was
business as usual.