Three Words That Could Rock Your World
Sahil: I haven’t told anyone that I like boys. See, it’s hard even to say it to myself. I can’t even write it. I want to tell K but I don’t know how to say it. I even googled it last week. There was a Wikihow page with steps, which might have worked if I lived in a different place. I’m pretty sure Ma would be devastated. I don’t know how K will react, we’ve never talked about stuff like this.
You can’t be best friends with someone for twelve years without knowing that they’ve been trying to tell you something.
But there’s one thing I’m very good at and that’s denial. Oh, and changing the subject.
So good, in fact, that I get overconfident. And when that happens, things tend to sneak up on you and bite you in the butt.
That evening, when it happens, we are walking back from the market. I hate that shortcut through the car park, mainly because you have to look out for dog poo. But we always end up taking it anyway because it is the shortest way.
At some point, Sahil stops me.
‘Hey, um, listen…’
‘What?’ I ask, half-heartedly. I smell something disgusting and I hope whatever it is, it isn’t smeared under my
shoe. ‘Can’t it wait till we get home?’
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he bites the skin on the edge of a fingernail. It’s something he does when he’s nervous. ‘I wanted to talk to you about something.’
‘Are you sure it can’t wait? We’re nearly home.’
He seems not to hear me. ‘Thing is…would you…feel differently towards someone if they told you…something… um, like, something about themselves…?’
He rambles on like that fora bit. I am not paying attention at first. Then my brain catches up and I realize what’s happening. I knowI’m about to geta big chunk taken out of my behind shortly. Because my luck has run out. Sahil is going to say it no matter what stunt I pull and then things will be all weird between us, because, you know, I just don’t feel that way about him.
I think quickly. ‘We-ell, if I found out that, let’s see, Rashmi had been lying about her favourite flavour of ice cream, I could live with that. But if I found out, say, Shailaja Ma’am is really a serial killer instead of a maths teacher, yes, I would feel very differently towards her.’
He stares at me like he thinks I’m insane. ‘Never mind, forget it.’
‘Fine!’ I say, relieved,and start to walk away. But he catches my arm.
In fact, he catches it so hard that it makes me whip around and almost bump into him. We’re standing literally centimetres apart. He’s still holding me. His eyes are alive in a most peculiar way, shining, like they’re full to the brim with tears. It may be the harsh yellow streetlights, but to me his face looks flushed. His lips are slightly apart and I can feel rather than see his chest rise and fall as he breathes faster than usual.
‘Komal, I have to tell you this,’ he says in a soft voice.
The blood is ringing in my ears. My heart is racing.
I press my eyes shut so I don’t see his face. ‘Sahil, please…’
But he says it anyway.
Three words.
It rocks my world.
Extracted with permission from Slightly Burnt by Payal Dhar, Bloomsbury India.