rematch | ishman

CH: 20

Ishan found Shubman on the pavement outside the club, taking slow, deliberate drags of his cigarette. He was about to give Shubman a piece of his mind for disappearing without a word, but his words caught in his throat when he noticed tears streaking down the other’s face.

“You smoke?” Ishan asked, cautiously standing next to him.

Shubman shook his head, still in a daze. “Just the third time,” he mumbled.

“When did you start?”

Shubman paused to let out a wisp. “After I saw you for the first time in eight months,” he said.

Ishan didn't respond, a knot of guilt tightening in his chest. He remembered ignoring the boy back then, as if he wasn't dying to see him.

Shubman added, “Next was after I kissed a boy for the first time."

He turned to face Ishan, and God, did he look like a mess. A beautiful mess. Ishan cleared his throat, asking, “What’s the reason today?”

All evening, Shubman had been acting... off. Ishan couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his friend seemed on edge. And then, that happened. Shubman walked out with some guy, and Ishan couldn't help feeling a little uneasy about it.

When Shubman didn't answer, Ishan pressed, “Who was that guy from earlier?”

Shubman shot him a half-hearted smirk; he would have teased Ishan if he wasn't feeling like shit. “I don't know,” he muttered.

"You... and him... you know?" Ishan asked, making vague suggestive gestures with his hands, causing Shubman to scoff.

“You can say kiss, Ishan.”

Ishan’s cheeks flared up in embarrassment. “Right. So–”

“Abhi saw it.”

Ishan’s eyes widened, his mind racing. “Did he say something stupid, I swear–”

“No,” Shubman mumbled. “I’m the stupid one.”

“What happened, Shubi?” Ishan asked softly, his hand gently cupping Shubman’s cheek as he looked into his eyes with concern.

“What if he never talks to me, Ish? I’m not used to living without him. God, he hates me, doesn't he?” Shubman rambled, sniffling in between.

Ishan blinked, wondering what could have possibly happened between the two. But his heart ached seeing Shubman close to tears. Ishan inhaled sharply, diving for his bike keys as he grabbed Shubman's hand and tugged him along.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Why is always one of us running away? “ Ishan grumbled. “I’m not letting you two act like either of you are fine without each other. I need to hear what Abhi has to say since you won't do the honour.”

Shubman looked down, not responding, as he let Ishan steer him along. “I’m sorry, Ish.”

“…”

“Ishan.”

“I think you're saying it to the wrong person.”

Abhishek glared at the framed photo of the three of them in his room, taken on the night before their U-17 final. They had big smiles on their faces, clearly holding in laughter because Ishan probably cracked a joke. He wondered if that was the last time they were together. They were still together, but sometimes ‘together’ meant three summers ago, stumbling over tomato gardens and racing past mahoganies.

The final was a turning point in their lives that they couldn't try and undo. Abhishek wanted to at least redo it. Then he would have noticed Ishan slipping into his self-sabotaging habits. Then he would have noticed Shubman’s fidgeting whenever they talked about girls. Then he would have noticed how lonely he felt.