Page 175 - The World's Best Boyfriend

you’re a heartless bitch because that’s how I know you as! Because that’s what
you were. You fucking lied and ruined my life years ago when I loved you. And
here you’re waiting for a man to turn up? What did I do that you didn’t stand up

for me and fucking lied but you can sit here all day and rue about Raghuvir’s
absence? Did you regret my absence as well? Did you sit like this in the last
bench where we used to sit? Did you miss me as well? Or were you busy

protecting your stupid scholarship? Why him and not me?’
‘You are getting nothing from me,’ Aranya said calmly. Dhruv threw his
hands in the air, exasperated and walked back to his room. The girl’s unflinching

devotion towards Raghuvir was excruciating for Dhruv. He would have
preferred getting skinned alive.
A month after Raghuvir’s resignation, Aranya had accepted offers from two

more professors, Dr Sharma and Dr Mitra, to be their research assistant. Prof.
Mitra, who had been waiting for his revenge on Aranya who had turned him
down earlier, was exceptionally hard on her, making her work nights and days in

succession, counting on her to either succumb or make a mistake, whichever
came earlier.
It was the latter.

A couple of weeks after she had started working with Prof. Mitra, he came
marching and shouting into the class with an army of teachers behind him.

Apparently an expensive machine had shorted in the laboratory and there was a
small fire.
‘WHERE IS ARANYA?’ shouted Prof. Mitra. Aranya who looked like she
was expecting it stood up. ‘Do you even know how much that machine costs,

Aranya? ANSWER ME! DO YOU KNOW? How could you not keep the mains
off? Don’t stand there like a fool—answer me! What’s the reason behind such

carelessness? Will your parents pay for the damage? Tell me? Who will pay for
it?’ Prof. Mitra’s face was flushed red, his voice shook with anger, his body
convulsed like he was having a stroke. He addressed Prof. Tripathi, ‘Mr Tripathi,
now you tell me what I should do? On your recommendation I chose this girl

and now she has ruined the incubator I had ordered from Germany. Thirty lakh
rupees! It’s all ruined. It’s all wasted! What do I tell the trustees now?’

Aranya shivered, little drops of tears dropped on to her notebook.
‘DARE YOU EVER COME NEAR MY LAB! And tell me what to do with
that junk machine now? Should I just throw it? TELL ME.’