Page 242 - The World's Best Boyfriend

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The day of the interview for the internship at AMTECH was nearing and she

was yet to finish a considerable part of the course. AMTECH traditionally hired
unconventional people with varied skill sets. Aranya had won thirty-four
debates, not counting the ones she had come second in, and she was a zonal-
level TT player. She was sure she would get through.

But despite her apparent nervous excitement, something was amiss. The smart
girl she was, it didn’t take her long to pin-point it—it was Dhruv’s prolonged

absence.
Ritika, who looked like shit now and had slowly been recovering from the
break-up, told Aranya about Dhruv’s father’s situation. She had broken down in
Aranya’s arms, as if she herself were the root cause. ‘I wish I was with him right

now. I wonder how he’s taking it. I haven’t been good to him.’
‘He will be okay. I’m sure he will call you if he needs you,’ said Aranya and

quietened her, stroking her like a stray dog, compassionate but still wary of
catching rabies.
The thought of Ritika cradling a crying Dhruv was discomforting. Every night
she would find a pretext to sneak out and see if Ritika was still in her room. In

college, her eyes would follow Ritika to see if Dhruv was back, and if he had
found a shoulder to cry on in her. Luckily nothing of that sort happened. She

would rather have Dhruv’s father die a long, prolonged death, than have him in
the college, in Ritika’s arms mourning his father’s illness/demise.
When Dhruv missed three consecutive assignments, something she had been

waiting and planning for, Aranya got the opportunity to talk to Sanchit about
Dhruv’s prolonged absence.
‘I need to talk to him. He has not been submitting assignments. The professors

keep asking me and I don’t know what to tell them,’ lied Aranya.
Sanchit laughed. ‘It’s not about the assignments. You’re just missing him,
aren’t you? Aww. That’s so cute, Aranya. Finally you found your heart beneath

your umm . . . err . . . how do I put it without sounding gross or offensive . . .
womanly chest?’
Aranya rolled her eyes. ‘It’s about the assignments. And they are called

breasts.’