Chapter 5: A Friend and an Enemy

For a long time, there was no contact between Arjun and me. I got used to not having a bench partner, burying myself in studies. My table was neat, textbooks stacked, pens aligned. The empty seat became scenery.

Less than a year before the board exams, the air grew tense—whispers about cut-offs, entrance exams, futures hanging like storm clouds.

In the mock exam, I scored 94 in English. My answer sheet had a big red star and 'Excellent!' in neat cursive. My heart thudded with pride. For the first time, I surpassed the study prefect. He usually topped everything, his notes colour-coded, handwriting perfect. Today, I was number one.

As soon as class ended, he moved his desk over and became my new bench partner. He did it nonchalantly, the scraping desk catching everyone’s attention. He snorted and grinned, 'Ms. Sharma said my essay is terrible and told me to learn from you. New benchie, please look after me.'

The word 'benchie' made me smile. I had a bench partner again. I reached for my notebook, eager to share. 'Here, take a look. I just memorised these.' I carefully opened the right page. 'Thanks.'

Looking up, I met Arjun’s indifferent gaze from across the room. He sat slouched, arms folded, eyes narrowed, lips curled in a sneer. I didn’t know my confession had disgusted him so much. His look was cold, almost accusing, as if I’d betrayed him by moving on.

The next day, my new bench partner brought me two pavs stuffed with spicy aloo. The spicy aloo filling made my mouth water, and the butter-soaked pav left yellow stains on the newspaper. My stomach growled, and we both laughed.

'Are these for me?'

He nodded. 'Yeah, as a thank you.' His gesture felt genuine. I carefully accepted them, whispering, 'Thank you.'

Suddenly, a not-so-loud laugh came from beside us. Arjun had his jacket zipped up, hands propped on the study prefect’s desk, sizing him up. He towered over us, blocking the sunlight. 'Bro, I never thought you had such... unique taste.' His eyes glinted with malice. The study prefect’s eyes narrowed. 'Arjun, what do you mean?'

Arjun tossed a stack of postcards onto our desks. The women on them were all extremely fat, their flesh almost spilling out of the pictures. Some kids craned their necks, whispering. 'For you. Isn’t this your type? Want me to bring you a poster tomorrow?'

The humiliation felt like ants crawling all over my skin. The study prefect pushed back his chair and stood up, face dark. 'Who the hell likes buffaloes?'

Arjun didn’t get angry, just raised his eyebrows and said, 'Oh. I saw you switch seats and thought you liked her. Isn’t that it?'

His friends joined in: 'Kya baat hai, Arjun bhaiya, ab toh moti bhi line mein hai!' Laughter erupted. The study prefect cursed under his breath, picked up his desk, and moved away. The scraping was painfully loud. Neither of them looked at me, but every word was about me.

My gaze fell on the scattered postcards, and the pavs in my hand went cold. For the first time, even aloo pavs tasted like ash.

Before Arjun left, I finally spoke up. 'Why do you have to do this?' My voice was quiet but clear. Arjun stopped, looked up at the blackboard, and said, 'What, are you that desperate for love? You can give your all to every bench partner?'

The words hung in the air, sharp as broken glass. I didn’t reply. What was there left to say?