Page 70 - The World's Best Boyfriend
P. 70

‘Anamika? Are you trying to get pregnant? I have no problems with you
               fucking every boy in the college but you can’t do it on the dance floor. Dance,
               don’t grind. I don’t want professors to think we are vulgar. Be sensuous, not

               vulgar.
                  Dhruv laughed at this and the voice carried to the inside of the dance room
               and everyone looked in his direction.

                  ‘What’s so funny?’
                  ‘You, teaching people on how to be sensuous,’ said Dhruv. ‘Aren’t you made
               of stone?’

                  ‘You should have said diamond or cubic boron nitride or carbon nitride, the
               top three hardest materials. But wait! Oh yes, you’re not smart enough. I
               remember you being thrown out of the school because of it. And before you go

               into reminding me about that childish story of when we were eight. GET OVER
               IT!’ snapped Aranya.
                  ‘I wasn’t thrown out—’

                  Aranya shot back, ‘Fuck off, Dhruv, don’t make me throw you out of here as
               well. Don’t make me call Prof. Mitra.’ She turned towards her troupe who
               looked confused. ‘What are you looking at? Can we do it again from the top,

               please? Music?’ continued Aranya without batting an eyelid. ‘And this time we
               will do it without thinking there are chimps peering inside to observe human
               behaviour.’

                  Sanchit goaded him to answer back, but Dhruv walked away from the hall, his
               eyes narrowed in anger.
                  After Dhruv had been expelled from his mother’s school, he had been made to

               drudge through hours of therapy and counselling sessions from huge-bosomed
               women with soft, fake voices. ‘Get over the girl,’ the counsellors would say.
               Sometimes he would understand. But usually he would say never and ask the

               counsellor to piss off.
                  But the girl he had refused to move on from had moved on.
                  Dhruv walked around in circles, looking for something.

                  ‘What are you looking for?’ asked Sanchit.
                  He found the perfect rock, picked it up and aimed it at the glass window. He
               imagined throwing it, the glass shattering, the students stepping on it and

               bleeding, little pieces of glass jutting out of their feet, and the Freshers’ dance
               being cancelled.
   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75