When you have a few weeks left to live, the only other tragic thing that can happen to you besides dying is to fall in love.
For Ariha, love means helping her best friend, Aarya, get the boy she has had a crush on since sixth grade. When life is so...
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"You seem faint. Have you been sick lately?" Aarya asks as I sit next to her in first class. Her eyes take a swooping look at my pale face and I worry that if she looks deeper, my lie will be out soon. She's got those frown lines on her forehead.
She can't know yet.
"Yes, just a common cold. I'm better now." I cover the truth with a convincing smile. She buys it for the moment. At least she doesn't have time for more questions about it as the class starts and we all get into our academic routine.
I'm almost through the first two periods when I get hit by the first wave of nausea for the day. It's maddening how unfair it is not to have control over one's own body and mind. I try to distract myself from the dull buzz in my head, fisting my palms and swallowing the bile rising up my throat. A sharp sting starts in my head and my vision becomes blurry.
But before I go unconscious in the middle of a classroom, I push myself out of the chair and escape through the back door. Aarya notices, and so does Mr. Chaitanya, our English teacher. However, I don't wait for either of them to call after me.
***
I wake up to a faint scribbling sound. My head hurts and my eyelids feel heavy as I force them to open, squinting, adjusting to the afternoon light coming through the open window. As I slowly gain my consciousness, my eyes capture the painting on the wall and the canvas lining the room. I'm in the art room and definitely not alone because I see the boy sitting on the window ledge, a sketchbook in his hands. With his eyebrows knitted and his black orbs concentrated on whatever he is sketching, it gets difficult not to notice the passion dancing on the paper. He's one hell of an attractive artist if someone takes notice of him. How did I never look at him like this before?
More importantly, how did I end up here?
I remember the nausea, and walking out in the middle of the class. I remember throwing up in the bathroom, but I can't remember lying on the bench at our school art studio. Did I walk here in my dizziness and fainted? Or did I-
"You passed out in the hallway." Rehan's deep voice silences the questions running rampant in my brain. He's suddenly beside me, kneeling on one of his knees and looking at me with concern surrounding his otherwise calm aura. He watches me squeeze my eyes as I try to get my focus back. His palm comes close to my face, but he doesn't touch my face, instead uses his timid fingers to wipe the sweat from my forehead and looks a little too soft doing it. "I wanted to take you to the nurse's office but you were blabbering not to take you there in your half conscious state. You said you wanted to lay down for a bit so I brought you here. How are you feeling now?"
Oh! I recollect bumping into him in the hallway just before losing my consciousness. I had been pleading him not to take me to the nurse's office. And he actually listened to my request.
"Thanks for listening to me." I mumble, taking in a deep breath. My throat feels sore, but I force my limbs to gain control of my body even though my head hurts like hell. I take his hand when he offers me and sit up. I scrub my face with my palms and heave a sigh before looking at Rehan. He passes me his water bottle and settles beside me on the bench, our shoulders touching, making me aware of his comfort once again.
