Page 222 - The World's Best Boyfriend
P. 222

51



               Aranya see-sawed between feeling slightly guilty and strangely glad.

                  She wondered if Dhruv and Ritika had patched up. Her heart leaped with joy
               at the possibility of them failing to understand each other. But Ritika knew
               Dhruv could have fended off the accusations with no more than a groan. Ritika,
               the airhead, would have forgiven him. Her shoulders drooped and she frowned at

               this imagined amicable reunion of sorts.
                  She had just settled down to get some shut-eye when she heard the familiar

               screeching voice from the other room.
                  ‘Hey?’ Aranya knocked on the common wall. ‘Are you okay, Ritika?’
                  ‘GO AWAY!’ howled Ritika. Ritika threw things at the wall and Aranya
               smiled heartily. They were breaking up!

                  ‘We can talk,’ offered Aranya.
                  She heard Ritika break down in uncontrollable sobs and felt like a heartless

               bitch when her lips curved into a celebratory smile.
                  After an hour of sobbing and cursing, Ritika invited Aranya over. Previously
               perilously pink and orange and delightfully decorated, the room lay in ruins and
               so did Ritika, legs splayed at odd angles and her hair a crow’s nest. Aranya tried

               to feel as bad for Ritika as she did for the room.
                  ‘What happened?’ asked Aranya.

                  ‘I fell in love with the worst boyfriend ever.’
                  ‘Listen, Ritika, I would have been really sorry for last night had something
               happened, but nothing happened between us. I mean I can’t even think of it. I

               just had to talk to Raghuvir and he helped me with it.’
                  Ritika wiped her tears and drank greedily from the bottle of water Aranya had
               thrust in her face.

                  ‘I know you think I’m like a dumb blonde, don’t you?’
                  ‘Me? Huh? Not at all,’ lied Aranya.
                  ‘You’re not that good at lying, are you, Aranya? And stop flattering yourself.

               It’s not you why I have had enough of him,’ Ritika said, steeling herself. ‘I have
               saved my boyfriends from the likes of you a billion times before.’
                  ‘Likes of me?’ asked Aranya, trying hard not to get offended.

                  ‘The pretentious, intelligent ones? The ones who think everyone around them
   217   218   219   220   221   222   223   224   225   226   227