You Were My Crush: Till You Said You Love Me! (9 page)

That day, Deb came over, and as if I was not already having a bad day, he had decided that he would add to my list of worries. I had spent an hour, and I had not yet drafted a reply.
Why the fuck can’t she just accept the friend request?

‘Hey,’ Deb said. ‘Guess what?’

‘That you’re not getting engaged?’

‘No, asshole. I got the
ring
!’

‘This is the worst day of my entire life. The only brother I had is now someone else’s. I don’t have any reason to live.’

‘Oh, cut it out and be happy for me, man.’

‘Okay, fine. But have you thought this through, Deb? Being engaged? It is a big decision. No more sleeping around? No more night-outs or dates with other girls.’

‘It’s
the
easiest decision I have ever made. The only girl I want to be around is her,’ he explained.

‘That’s sweet.’

‘Yeah, anyway, you should be doing all that. Not me.
It’s your time now!
I will just be the boring elder brother!’ He smiled.

‘I don’t do that either.’

‘Oh, c’mon. Don’t be that boring, Benoy. I am getting engaged, and you seem depressed!’

‘Okay, whatever,’ I said.

We talked for a little while, and it didn’t take long for him to notice that I was distracted. I kept checking the phone for a notification that would say that she had accepted the friend request. Maybe, she was waiting for me to reply to her message.

‘I think I
like
someone,’ I finally told Deb.

‘Ohh, sure you do! Diya, isn’t it? I always felt that. Even my mom told me that the way she looked at you at our place, she just knew something is going on. So?’ Deb said excitedly.

‘Diya? No. Are you out of your mind? I was talking about Shaina.’

‘Shaina?’

‘Diya’s sister.’

‘Diya’s sister? As in, real sister?’

‘Yes, real sister. What else?’

‘Oh, that’s just fucked up. Does Diya know?’ he asked.

‘I mean, she has an idea. And she doesn’t like it.’

‘Just tread carefully, Benoy. For now, can we stop talking about your girl? Okay, I will show you the ring, and even if you hate it, you have to lie. Get it?’

‘Yes, sir. Deb sir.’

He showed me the ring. There was no way any girl would say no to a ring like that.

‘It’s brilliant,’ I said and congratulated him again. I wished him luck and he left me to my misery. After he left, I went back to my message screen.

Benoy Roy: We don’t have to tell her!
☺

It wasn’t witty, it wasn’t smart, but I had to reply.

Shaina Gupta: You don’t but I have to. She is my sister! And she doesn’t have nice things to say about you
. ☺
I don’t trust men with big cars.

Benoy Roy: She is just possessive! Will you add me already!
☺

Shaina Gupta: *Runs to ask Diya if she should*

Benoy Roy: Nooo! *Dies*

Shaina Gupta: *Jerk*

A little later, I got the notification that I had been waiting for.

Shaina Gupta accepted your friend request.

Within seconds, Diya called.
Crap
.

‘Benoy!’ she almost screamed on the phone.

‘You wouldn’t believe what just happened,’ I said.

‘What!’ she still screamed.

‘Deb is getting engaged! He had this huge ring and he is proposing to Avantika …
right NOW
. Can you believe that? It’s CRAZY!’

‘What?
Really?
’

‘Yes, he showed me the ring. It’s
huge
.’

‘You seem so excited,’ she said. ‘I’m so happy for him!’

‘So am I!’

She was sufficiently distracted. We talked about Deb and
his engagement and what it would mean to me; she forgot she had to blast me for adding Shaina.

‘But I had asked you not to send her a request,’ she said, not as angry any more.

‘When have I ever done what you have asked me to, Diya?’

We both laughed at it, and I mailed her the picture of the ring that I had clicked. She got busy with that. As soon as we disconnected the call, Shaina messaged me again.

Shaina Gupta: That was well handled!
☺

Benoy Roy: Anything to be in your friend list.

Shaina Gupta: That was creepy!!

Benoy Roy: The pressure to be smart and funny is getting too much to handle for me. What do you call creepy in French?

Shaina Gupta: Now that was sweet!
☺
Creepy in French is ‘rampé’.

Benoy Roy: But you know what would be really sweet?

Shaina Gupta: I am thinking chocolate cake? What’s on your mind?

Benoy Roy: Yeah. Chocolate cake. But yes, exchanging numbers!

Shaina Gupta: Why don’t you call my sister and ask for it?

Benoy Roy: I think we should stick to chocolate then!
☺

Shaina Gupta: Aw! 9999993489!

Benoy Roy: So much better.
☺
Vous êtes un grand!

Shaina Gupta: Your Google Translate skills don’t impress me.

And our conversation shifted from Facebook messages to text messages and when she had exhausted her free messages, I called her. She asked me to wait until her sister had drifted off to sleep.

‘Hey,’ I said.

‘Hey, do you want to talk to Diya? She is right here,’ she said.

‘Very funny.’

‘Why not! You’re best friends after all,’ she joked.

‘Shaina, you are the girl here. I am the guy. I am supposed to be
funny
! And you are supposed to laugh at my jokes. Not the other way around.’

She faked a giggle and said, ‘Does that work fine with you?’

‘You need to work on making that giggle a little more realistic!’

We both giggled at this. This time, her giggle was more realistic. We didn’t talk for long since she had an assignment to complete. Just before sleeping, I visited her profile and saw all the pictures again. I resisted the temptation to like all her pictures. I did not want Diya to notice that. And secondly, Manoj Nagpal, a guy from her list, had already done that. He had liked every picture of hers!

Manoj Nagpal likes this
.

I checked him out, and he was a ‘rampé’-looking guy.

Manoj Nagpal. Studied at Delhi University. Lives in Delhi. Knows English, Hindi and Punjabi. Born on September 12, 1986.

1986? Creepy
OLD
bastard!

‘Has anybody replied yet?’

It had been quite some time since Diya had applied to a few places for a summer internship but she was getting nowhere with it. Unlike me, she was only sending applications to the top-notch organizations.

I had already given up and decided that I would work at my father’s company. Despite fervent requests, she had refused help of any kind whatsoever.

‘Nothing as of now,’ she said.

‘Do you want me to talk to my dad?’

‘No!’ she said.

‘What if—’

‘Eshaan called yesterday,’ she interrupted.

‘Aha! Eshaan? I didn’t know you guys were calling each other and stuff.’ I nudged her.

‘He had called once to thank me for that day. I told you
about that! He said he was contacting a few companies and asked me if I wanted to apply.’

‘I think he
likes
you.’

‘No, he
doesn’t
. He’s just sweet and you know that.’

‘I know he does. The question is whether you like him or not?’

‘Like him? I hardly know that guy! And please, I cannot get into relationships like you do.’

‘Why do you always say that? Have you in the last few months ever seen me talk about anyone? Or being with someone? This is unfair.’

‘Fine. Fine!’ she said.

‘Seems like there are still a few things you have to know about me,’ I grumbled. First thing amongst them was that I was in love with her sister.

‘Oh. I totally forgot. I saw your dad’s video on YouTube. He was invited to a conclave organized by the Chambers of Commerce,’ she told me.

‘What about it?’

‘He sounds good! He has an accent and you don’t. I am afraid but he’s cooler than you are, Benoy. You’re a step down in evolution. He’s good-looking too. What happened with you? Are you adopted, Benoy?’ she asked, smirking.

‘Whatever.’

‘I think you can learn a thing or two from him. He’s quite the rock star,’ she said. ‘He’s like the good parts of Richard Branson and Gerard Butler, and you’re like the bad parts of Johnny Lever and the guy from
Frankenstein
.’

I stayed quiet; it was because I was happy and confused.

The only time I didn’t miss Shaina was when I was reading her blog and staring endlessly at her sketches. Calling her always daunted me because I felt like an illiterate homeless guy while talking to her. She was educated in French and Spanish, wrote poems and drew like a dream, and sometimes she would talk about poets and their lives and their best works, their techniques of writing and what not; I just drove around in my dad’s stupid big car like it was mine.

‘Weren’t you with my sister all morning?’ Shaina asked the first thing after answering my call.

‘Yes, why?’

‘That’s creepy, Benoy. You spend all your day with my sister and then you hit on me. That’s not done.’ She chuckled.

‘If I were hitting on you, I would have liked all your pictures … like someone has.’

‘Someone?’

‘Some guy. Manoj somebody in your list. He has liked all your pictures. Who does that?’ I said irritably.

‘Oh, c’mon. He’s a nice guy.’

‘And he is as old as your dad,’ I snapped. ‘He’s twenty-six, Shaina. You are young enough to be his daughter.’

‘Love knows no age!’ she countered.

‘You can like him as much as you can right now, but let me tell you, he’s not going to last. A natural-cause death is fast approaching.’

‘That’s just mean. He isn’t
that
old!’ she countered.

‘He is twenty-six! Imagine. When he was in first year, you were in the seventh standard. That’s like paedophilia, Shaina.’

‘Now you’re just making it sound worse! George Chapman, a poet, said, “
Young men think old men are fools; but old men know young men are fools
.”’

‘At least you agree that he’s old. Are you dating him or something?’

‘
Could
be! Could be not. Whatever be the case, I’m not looking to date you. You’re not my type,’ she professed.

‘What’s your type? I have already started watching all the top French movies in the IMDB list, and I am thinking of reading through all of Byron and Keats and Neruda and Frost, if that’s what your type is,’ I said.

‘I think I should just go and tell Diya that you have been troubling me,’ she jested.

‘Err …’

‘
Aw!
Look at you. You’re cute, Benoy. I’m sure you will find yourself a nice girl. I am kind of surprised you aren’t seeing anyone,’ she said.

‘I’m not!’

‘I just thought girls would be clamouring to get to you. Except your shoes, I think you’re everything a girl can ask for,’ she commented.

‘Is someone paying you to be sweet to me? I am really not used to it, Shaina.’

‘Modesty! Thy name is certainly Benoy Roy. You know what, the first time didi talked about you, I thought she would explode! She was so angry, like really pissed off. What did you do? She told me that you were an inconsiderate, rich brat.’

‘I am not a brat!’ I protested. ‘Oh, by the way, I loved the new poem. I don’t know how much I got, but it’s brilliant.’

‘Oh, please don’t read my poems, Benoy,’ she said. ‘They are horrible!’

‘Are you kidding me? I have cried, like, so much reading them, and I don’t even know if I understand them completely,’ I said.

‘You’re just being sweet. No one really likes them. Everyone dies in my poems. How can you even like them? I don’t even know why I write them in the first place. I end up depressing myself,’ she explained. ‘I want to stop writing them.’

‘No! Don’t stop. I love them,’ I protested.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I think I should keep down the phone. Diya would want to know who I was talking to and I really don’t like lying to my sister.’

We disconnected the call. It was a little uncomfortable hiding it from Diya. I slept peacefully that night, imagining Shaina in a quaint old town cottage, working on a poem in her study, while I looked on, thanking my stars for having met her.