description

Vijay and Nila have only one thing in common - they take the same bus at the same time everyday. What if this mere commonality steers their life into a whirlpool of uninvited feelings, wholesome conversations and unexpected connections, taking them on a ride they don't recall buying tickets for?

character aesthetics

nila

vijay

playlist

chasing fire • lauv
co2 • prateek kuhad
stupid • tate mcrae
davy crochet • the backseat lovers
skin • sabrina carpenter
delicate • taylor swift
stargazing • the neighbourhood
lovely • fly by midnight, betty who
10/10 • troye sivan
i don't wanna know • goldhouse, mokita
electric touch • taylor swift, fall out boy
always forever • cults
vulnerable • dhruv

other important notes

this is an original work not to be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of yours truly. all images used in the story and cover do not belong to me and are rightfully credited to their owners.

this story wasn't supposed to exist, it never was in my plan. i blame my impulsive decision to write it anyway on the stranger i ran into on a hot friday morning, whose presence was so captivating that he had to be a main character and i simply had to write about him. i don't even know his name and i probably will never see him again, but i guess you have him to thank for this story.

this story is a slow burn, mild enemies-to-lovers. it's a soft desi romance and it includes a love/hate relationship with bus rides. it has tropes of sports romance as well. if you think you might like this story, go on and add it to your library right now! add it to your reading lists too and tap the follow button to keep track of updates.

i'm so excited for this project and i hope you are too. gentle reminder to vote and comment as much as you can to show support and encourage my lazy ass to update, thank you.

weekly updates (as of now) and this is a novel, so around 30-40 chapters.

thank you for being here. before we start, just to satisfy my curiosity:

• how did you find this story?
• which is your preferred mode of travel?

follow me and my instagram (linked on my profile) for spoilers and updates!

love,
cara ❤️

The sky was the bluest Nila had ever seen. There were no clouds in sight, allowing the sunlight to filter in seamlessly and burn her toes that were peeking out her sandals that she had bought only yesterday from a 50% sale. It looked pretty on her feet, matching her green kurta and white-washed blue jeans. If she ignored the tan that she was going to be rewarded with later and the subtle bite at her pinky toes, she could consider the sandals a pretty good investment. Nila glanced up from her toes, hearing the familiar screech of a bus coming to a halt. The bus wasn't the one she was supposed to get on but the empty seats were tempting her and making her wish it was.

Nila rocked on her feet, waiting for her bus, the popular and people-loving 29X. She hated that bus because it was almost always crowded. Getting an empty seat was like getting to see Rajnikanth on the streets of Chennai – which was never. You would ask, then why does she take the bus? Well, buses weren't Nila's favourite mode of travel but to keep her bank account alive and thriving, it was a significant sacrifice she had to make.

It had been three years since she moved to the city and taking buses had become an essential part of her life. From the PG she had been staying in before, it took two buses and a share-auto to get to her college. Along with four of her friends, Nila had now rented a flat a little closer, reducing one bus in the equation. It might not look much but the difference it made was tremendous.

There was an old couple giving her silent company in the bus stop and she prayed she would get a bus in the next two minutes, because after that a storm of school kids would be fighting with her to get in the bus first. But, ha, of course, Nila was never lucky. The kids crowded around the bus stop, noise and chatter hanging over the area like a pesty grey cloud. The high school boys would sometimes say Hello to her, trying to make friendly conversations but she would reply with a scowl. If only they would be friendly enough to willingly offer their seats to her on the bus.

While Nila was distracted thinking of a plan to get rid of these kids, she sensed the crowd stepping forward, suddenly abandoning their conversations about that pretty teacher in science class and the upcoming tests. This was a sign — a sign that a bus was coming. She craned her neck and found it to be 29X, her very own dear bus. But the fact that it was slanting towards the side, like a man drunk off his wits, made her heart sink. If the road was water and that bus was a boat, it would have sunk ten hours ago. But it was the last bus in a while. She had to get on it otherwise she would have to be late for college. And Nila hated to be late.

Steeling herself and forgiving herself for her rudeness in the upcoming few minutes, she pushed through the crowd, holding her totebag close to her hips. Excuse me, Excuse me, Excuse me, she chanted loudly as she swam through the crowd and somehow got first in line to get inside the bus.

As soon as the bus halted and the door yawned open, she climbed in, almost slipping from the step as someone pushed from behind. Not a chance, loon, she muttered to herself and pulled herself up, scanning for a free space to stand. Just as she grabbed an empty space, the doors closed shut and the bus moved, throwing her forward.

She was going to die. Or face-plant into someone's lap or back. Just as she braced herself for the impact and the string of curse words from the people around, a hand shot out from somewhere and caught her arm.

The grip was gentle yet firm, strong enough to not make her topple forward. Catching her chest, she looked up and met chocolate brown eyes. They belonged to a sculpted face, a handsome handsome face with a neat stubble on his jaws, so in contrast with the unruly mop of curly hair on his head. As soon as her gaze dropped to his lips, the band of heat around her arm disappeared. He cleared his throat and looked away, his hand going to his shoulder to haul his backpack higher.

"Um, thanks," she said, giving him a small smile and holding the railing next to him. She was pressed close to him, her height allowing her to face his chest, which was clad in a navy blue t-shirt under a black and blue flannel overshirt.  He looked around her age, give or take a year. The guy glanced at her again but he didn't say a word. He didn't have to because the way he looked at her was enough to make her smile vanish. His gaze was accusing. As if she had voluntarily chosen to get propelled forward towards her death. As if she had done that to annoy him and personally taken charge of turning his life into a nightmare.

How rude, she thought, fuming on the inside. Nila ignored how his woodsy scent overpowered her berry fragrance, enveloping her in his arrogant addicting perfume. She had to move away from this guy as soon as possible otherwise he'd pass on his grouchiness to him as well. Thankfully, the bus conductor barked at her to get a ticket, making her fumble in her tote bag for change. Dealing with rude conductors wasn't something she'd usually be grateful for but man, this douchebag next to her took the crown today.

She fished out the change and exchanged it for a ticket, after which she kept an eye for an empty space to stand. As soon as the next stop came and the lady with jasmine flowers on her head got down, she took her spot, throwing a defiant glance at the douchebag. He didn't bother to look her way, which was good. After a few more stops, hers came. She got down and as the doors shut after her, she locked gazes with the guy who was now looking at her through the glass door. She glared at him back till the bus moved on, so tempted to give him the middle finger.

What a douchebag.

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"What's the point of looking smoking hot if you are a rotting cold-hearted man on the inside?"

"You know, that's how most men are. At least the ones in books and movies. They are incredibly grouchy and sexy at the same time that women don't know what to do around them except to fall for them. It's the biggest trope in romance novels — grumpy and sunshine, enemies to lovers. It all involves a cold hearted man or woman," Maya explained, putting her Kindle down. "Maybe this is the beginning of your love story."

"Bullshit," Nila snorted, clicking a picture of the sunlight piercing through the neem tree next to her classroom for her Instagram. "Maya, you're reading too much fiction. How many books have you finished this year?"

"23. And it's only March."

"Are you human?" Nila asked, watching their two other best friends walk in.

"I wish I wasn't," Maya shrugged, hoping that was a helpful answer. Nila walked to Sanjay and tipped her chin as to ask what was up with Lilly. Don't ask, he mouthed, throwing a comforting arm over Lilly, who wordlessly removed her backpack and shrugged off his arm to take a seat.

Lilly was in a relationship with Ana, who was a junior majoring in French, and it was the most stressful relationship Nila had ever heard about. It's not easy openly being affectionate as two women in love and it was frustrating both of them. Ana's parents knew about them but Lilly's parents weren't approving of her sexual identity. They knew about it but they had never encouraged her to embrace it. On top of it, Ana wanted an open relationship but Lilly was against it. They had been arguing over it, making up and going on a vicious cycle but never really making a firm decision. Nila and her friends could see how much it was draining Lilly.

They wanted to tell her to exit the relationship but it was hard to even suggest it. Lilly and Ana were too in love. They were so cute that Nila and Maya were determined to find a love like they had. Now, it all seemed like a painful facade. "You wanna talk about it, bub?" Nila asked, crouching to face her best friend.

"I'm sorry you guys have to do this with me everyday. I don't know what else to do. I love her too much to let her go even though I know she is not the one for me," Lilly said. She had been telling the same thing for a while now. Her shoulder-length hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was wearing no earring. She had forgotten her usual winged-eyeliner and her lipstick wasn't perfect. God, Lilly was losing herself. And Nila didn't know what to do to help her.

"Okay, enough is enough," Sanjay said, facing Lilly and almost stepping on Nila's fingers with his sneakers that he cleaned everyday. "You're going to shut up and take my advice. No arguments, you hear me?"

"What?"

"Your birthday is in a week. You're turning 22 so take this as a chance to start over and open a new chapter of your life. I'll give you three days to break up with Ana. I'll give you two more days to mope around and the next two days, I'm going to take you clubbing. I'll introduce you to hotter men and women and you will forget that bitch existed," Sanjay said. Unlike Nila and Maya, he had disapproved of Ana from the beginning. He had told them that she didn't look like the one to be serious in a relationship despite what she promised Lilly.

"What if I need more time to mope around?"

"No can do, babe. I'll haul you to the club, press a drink into your hand and let you cry there. Men love to play the saviour. They'll come to you."

Nila smacked Sanjay for being insensitive. "Be a little gentle, idiot," she whispered.

"Okay," Lilly said, glancing up. "I'll do it. I'll try. Like you said, enough is enough."

"That's my girl!" Maya cheered, pulling her friend into a hug. "Now that this is sorted, want to hear about Nila's new man?"

"Nila's what?"

"Nila, babe, I thought we were going to marry each other?"

Nila rolled her eyes and sent a saccharine smile towards the troublesome bookworm. "Maya, honey, now would be a good time to run."

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Vijay couldn't help but look at her. He had been watching her for the past four days and was rendered powerless every time because this woman seemed to snag his attention like iron to a magnet. He had heard about people describing others as magnetic. He never seemed to understand it until now.

The first day he had seen her, she was in the far opposite corner of the bus. She had asked for a ticket but her meek voice didn't travel through the packed bus to reach the conductor's ears. Vijay had notified the conductor about her and then he'd torn off a ticket. She had been wearing a button-up dirty pink shirt and light blue jeans. Vijay couldn't see her shoes but he could bet she was wearing sneakers. She looked like someone who would be most comfortable in sneakers.

The second day, she was standing a few seats before him, her back turned towards him. For some reason, Vijay could recognise her even when she had switched up her style. She was wearing salwar that day, a printed duppata over a monochrome white salwar. It seemed like she had taken the effort to dress up extra that day because she was wearing oxidised jhumkas and bangles. When she turned around to look for something, he also noticed that she was wearing bindi, which made her look prettier.

The third day he couldn't get a clear view of her because a man had brought his shovel along with him and the shovel was threatening to hit his face if he moved an inch. He watched her get on the bus at her usual stop but he couldn't spot her after that. Vijay could only remember that she was wearing something green.

The fourth day he had been right behind her but she hadn't noticed. Vijay couldn't help but stare at her, watching her untuck her braided hair that had caught between her tote bag's straps and look at her phone with a frown. She didn't smile that day and it bothered him. The thing about her was that she didn't have to have her lips curve to smile at someone. Her eyes were even more expressive; they spoke poetry. Those pools of starless night sky, lined by a thin stroke of eyeliner, spilled words that the lips could not say. Maybe that's why he had been so enamoured by her without even talking to her.

It wasn't just him. Whenever she stepped into the bus, a horde of eyes turned her way. Some were in admiration, jealousy but some were filthy glances. He wanted to slam his elbow into their sockets and make sure they never looked at a woman that way ever again. It was unusual, this feeling of protectiveness for a stranger, and he didn't know what to do with it.

Today, Vijay was standing next to the entry and long before the bus halted at her bus stop, he searched for her. She was in a green kurta again, pushing through a crowd of school kids and muttering something between her teeth. She didn't seem to mind the scowls that the kids were giving her as if she had decided she was going to be rude today and not give a damn about it. He almost laughed at the determination lining her face. So fucking cute and so fucking pretty.

The doors screeched open and she pushed her way in. Once she was in, Vijay turned his head away to not make it obvious that he was staring. One minute he looked away and the next minute she was toppling forward. Vijay couldn't stop himself. His hands took a mind of its own and grabbed her forearms, which were soft and dewy with some kind of cream that forced him to grip her tighter to prevent slipping.

She removed her dainty palms from her chest and glanced up at him like he was her hero. Her black eyes traced his face, leaving behind a trail of warmth. He couldn't stand it when her gaze dropped to his lips. Vijay immediately let her go and turned away.

He shouldn't have touched her. What was this feeling stirring inside him like a foreign storm? Vijay couldn't believe he was reacting to a woman like this. Was he already smitten? After only a few days of knowing she existed?

"Um, thanks," she said and hearing her voice wasn't helping his case. He was mad at him for thinking about her this way. He didn't even know her. He couldn't be smitten with her just by her looks. Vijay wasn't raised that way. Accompanied by this frustration was a wave of fury that shot up his spine because of her carelessness. What if he hadn't held her? What if he had been on the other side of the bus? Would someone else have stopped her from face-planting into the hard and dirty floor of the bus? Or would they have let her fall?

Vijay couldn't respond to her. He was too mad. Mad at him, mad at her and mad at the situation. When he glanced at her, she flinched under his gaze. The look of gratitude was quick to be replaced by hurt and confusion. Once the next stop came, she moved away from him. The distance that she voluntarily put between them caused a turmoil in him. He was partly grateful she did because he was beginning to feel out of breath being consumed by her delicious fruity perfume. On the other hand, it stung that he had hurt her enough that she had physically distanced herself. Vijay hated this war inside him. Why did this woman have the power to turn his thoughts and feelings into such a colossal mess?

He took a deep breath and turned away until her stop came. Vijay watched her as she got down and faced him as the glass doors sealed shut. This time, there wasn't hurt in her eyes but anger and defiance. She was glaring at him with all her might.

The bus lurched forward and Vijay shook his head lightly, cracking a smile.

He'd chosen himself a feisty one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Vijay couldn't shake away the feel of that woman's skin or get the picture of her eyes out of his mind. He could still smell her cream on his palms. He was thankful for his practice so that he could run and distract himself by getting into his element, the few moments in his day when he felt absolute peace.

Vijay slowed down into a jog when Krish hollered at him to stop. His best friend halted a few steps behind him, clutching his knees and catching his breath. "I told you to fucking stop, man. You purposefully made me run, didn't you?" he panted, throwing accusing fingers at him.

"You're running behind professors all the time trying to get into their good books. This mustn't be new for you," Vijay said, retracing his steps back to his friend.

"But teachers don't run like fucking lightning."

Vijay grinned and patted Krish twice before pulling him up. "What's up?" he asked, turning around to locate his bag that he must have left somewhere.

"After I tell you, you would wish you would have stopped sooner instead of making me run in the sun."

Vijay rolled his eyes. "What is it, man?"

"Farah is getting married."

"The fuck?" Vijay was shocked. His other best friend, Farah, had been telling him that her parents had begun looking for alliances for her but she hadn't given any other update about it. It couldn't be. Not so soon. "Are you serious?"

"She likes the guy so she said yes. And he has no problem with her studying after her marriage so it's sorted."

"But... she can't get married so soon." Something strange swirled in his chest. His best friend was getting married. Things were going to change. It wouldn't be the same anymore after she had a husband.

"There, she's coming. Hear it from her yourself," Krish said, tipping his chin towards Farah. She walked towards them in her signature skinny jeans, a linen tunic top and a matching shawl covering her head that wrapped around her shoulders. Farah smiled ear-to-ear, speed-walking towards them. She was not even close to them when she yelled at Krish, "You told him, didn't you? I told you that I wanted to be the one who broke the news to Vijay!"

"You were too slow. News like this has to travel fast," Krish said as a matter of fact.

Farah wrapped her arms around Vijay as soon as she was next to him. "Why is there a sour look on your face? Aren't you happy for me?"

"I didn't even know you were considering it seriously," he whispered to her.

"I wasn't. But he is hot, Vijay. Like, totally my type. And he's so sweet. He said okay to all that I wanted and he is from a good family. Rich too. Why would I let this man go?" Farah said, pulling away. "I just gave you a hug when you are sweating like a pig so don't be upset. Please."

"I'm not," Vijay said immediately. He forced a smile on his face and threw an arm around her. "Of course, I am happy for you. I was surprised because it was sudden. I could have used a warning."

"Trust me, I could have too. But life plays by its own rules," she shrugged.

"By the way, you didn't even care to get my approval. How rude," Vijay teased.

"Yeah, my best friend's stamp of approval is important. But I also knew he would approve anything that makes me happy so..." Farah said. "And Krish wasn't supposed to know first. He eavesdropped."

"Hey, it's not my fault my ears are working just fine," Krish protested. "But, show us his picture, no?"

Farah pulled out her phone. Vijay didn't miss the faint tint of pink on her cheeks that was visible on her fair skin. "No nasty comments. Or I'll murder both of you and no one will be able to find your bodies. Got it?" she said and only after they nodded, she showed them the picture.

If Vijay was honest, he would say that guy was good-looking. He wouldn't go too far and call him hot but Farah and him would make a good pair, looks-wise. His eyes seemed kind and he looked like an easy-going guy. Krish glanced at Vijay and he knew he was thinking the same thing. But as if they'd planned it, they pushed Farah away and waved their hands in dismissal. "Nah, very mid. The man looks like a baby. What's his name again?"

"Aadil," Farah grunted, already beginning to look pissed.

"Yeah, he's got a baby face. You could do a lot better, Farah. He's very meh," Krish played along. "And Aadil? Farah Aadil? Nah. Find an Ahmed. Farah Ahmed sounds a lot better."

She smacked both of them. "Shut up, you assholes. He's amazing and I don't need your bullshit opinion. I knew you would say shit like this. Get lost."

"Get lost," Krish mimicked in a whiny voice, earning him another sharp smack on his arm as Farah marched forward and away from them.

Vijay and Krish snickered before catching up to her and wrapping their arms around her neck and shoulders. "We're sorry. He looks decent. We approve," Krish said, barely getting the words out through his laughter.

"Shove that approval up your asses because I don't need them," Farah shot back but her fight was dissolving. Farah's famous dimple-embedded smile was threatening its way up her cheeks.

"Farah, Farah, Farah," Vijay sang her name as she tried to push off their arms. "Come on. We weren't serious. You know that."

"I know but let me go, you annoying pricks. You always gang up on me."

"Yeah, that's true. But that's because we love you," Krish butted in.

"Bullshit," Farah snorted, even though she was already smiling. "Now, come on. We are late for class."

━━━━━━━━━━━━

a/n: thoughts so far? are we liking anyone yet?

The day after Nila's interaction with him, he'd stood next to her with his obnoxiously beautiful face and his angled jaws, deftly carrying his gym bag in one hand and his backpack on his shoulders. She was foolish enough to expect an apology from him for being rude but nothing came. Of course.

Now that she had made an enemy out of him, Nila could identify him from any corner of the bus. And that's how she discovered that they shared the same bus in the afternoons as well, confirming her suspicions of him being a college student. Since he didn't get down at her stop, there was no chance that they belonged to the same college. So far, she had gathered only these crumbs about him but for some reason, there was a stubborn itch inside her to know more. She wanted to excavate his deepest darkest secrets hiding between his well-put appearance. This strange curiosity was unusual for Nila. She decided not to encourage it.

Nila was exhausted today. Sanjay hadn't come to college. Lilly slept in most of the classes and Maya was sneaking her Kindle between her notebook. The absence of Sanjay and his entertaining nonsense plus a series of continuous lectures made Nila want to jump off the building. She couldn't wait to go home to her bed. The only highlight of her day was that Maya had bought her a new plant to keep in her new flat. Maya's mother had already potted it in a beautiful hand-painted flowerpot. It wasn't exactly her style but it was the thought and the plant that mattered.

She was in the bus with the plant in one hand and the other tightly gripping the railing. Nila bit her teeth as someone pushed her from behind, sending her crashing against the hard plastic ridges of the seat. She tightened her hold on the plant, shielding it with her body. If the plant got crushed, she would never forgive herself.

The bus conductor moved through the crowd, demanding money for tickets. Nila looked around cluelessly, wondering how she was going to take the change out of her bag with a plant in her hand. She considered giving it to the people seated but the man before her was asleep. How he was sleeping through all the ruckus in the bus was beyond her. Nila knew she was fucked when she heard the bus conductor blast someone for giving a hundred rupee note to purchase an eleven rupee ticket.

She bit her lip and tried shifting the plant to her hip but the old lady next to her gave her no space. Nila blew out a breath of frustration.

"I can get you a ticket," a voice said. She whipped her neck to the side to lock eyes with a warm brown pair of eyes. It was the douchebag, or as she fondly liked to call him – DB. His voice was low and deep, similar to thunder teasing the sky before it put on its main show. She couldn't help but feel the tremor travel down her spine. Nila wondered how she hadn't noticed him at all.

"Um, no thanks," she squeaked and then cleared her throat to repeat, "No, thank you."

His expression didn't change. It was as if he had expected this answer from her. God, was she so predictable? Or was her pride betraying her and waving its bright flag at him?

"At least let me hold the plant then." His yellow collared t-shirt and blue jeans ironically made him look like walking sunshine. Nila refused to be fooled by the act.

"No, it's okay," she said, giving him a clipped smile.

"Okay, then. Suit yourself," he replied but his tone had a sarcastic undertone to it. As if he knew something Nila didn't. She followed his gaze and saw the conductor tear off a ticket to the old lady next to her and turn to her. When he realised she had no ticket nor change ready in her hand, his nose flared.

"Ticket!" he barked. "Where is your ticket? Are you deaf? I've been shouting for so long asking everyone to get the tickets and what have you been doing? Do you think I have time to go behind everyone and beg them to get a ticket? Or did you think you could travel for free today?"

Nila flinched.

"What are you looking at?"

She turned to DB and wordlessly pressed her potted plant in his free hand, ignoring the smug grin on his face. Nila dug into her bag and flung a twenty-rupee bill at the conductor. He muttered something under his breath, probably cursing her again before returning the change along with her ticket.

"I offered to help," DB whispered in her ears and she clenched her jaws as she pocketed the change. He was fucking infuriating. She was so close to crying from embarrassment but here was this despicable man, rubbing it on her face.

She faced him. "You can shut—"

Nila's eyes widened as she saw it happen in slow motion. The driver slammed the brakes and the old lady standing between DB and her staggered, knocking him and making him crash into the railing. She didn't care about the way he quickly managed to hold onto the handle bars on top for balance because Nila was more focused on her plant in his other hand. The tender main stem of the plant snapped into two, the top half falling down and disappearing under someone's harsh shoes, served in a silver platter to get stomped mercilessly.

DB didn't notice it. Only when his gaze fell onto her watering eyes did he realise he was holding a corpse. "Fuck," he cursed lowly and if Nila wasn't mourning the death of the plant, she would've focused on how hot the word sounded in his voice. "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head silently, choking on the tears and taking the plant —no, the pot — from him. She was angry. Angry at the conductor, angry at the people crowing the bus, angry at the driver for slamming the brakes and angry at the old lady for not holding on. She was angry at him for letting her plant die.

She looked at the pot with half a stem. It had been a gift. And people rarely gifted her plants even though she loved nothing more than them in this world.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated.

"Don't dare say a word," she said, every word coming out like venom.

This time it was him who flinched. Nila would have immediately felt guilty but she didn't give a flying fuck about his feelings. Especially since he had been the one to hurt hers first when they first interacted. He deserved it.

DB didn't try to talk to her again. Either he felt guilty or he had decided to stop caring about what happened. High chances it was the latter.

Until her stop came, she bit her teeth and refused to look at anyone but empty space. Nila was having the worst day. She needed to talk to Sanjay. No, she needed to bawl her eyes out to him. It was the first thing she was going to do when she stepped into her room.

When she got down from the bus, she could feel him looking at her, waiting for her to glance back. But she refused to give him that satisfaction. DB was a new nuisance in her life, as if she didn't have enough to keep her busy and worrying. She wished she hadn't met him at all or took the same bus as him. Because as much as she loathed him, she couldn't stop the flashes of his wounded expression when she snapped at him, stirring a strange feeling in her chest.

"It's Rava Dosa today!" Priya announced as Nila removed her footwear and stacked it in the stand. She lowered her bag and trudged into her room where Anamika was asleep. Priya followed her. "Why aren't you happy? It's your favourite. I got the batter from the shop. We have leftover sambar and Anamika promised she'd make coconut chutney once she wakes up from her nap. It'll be a perfect dinner today."

"Yeah, I guess," she said, dropping her bag on the floor along with the pot and lying on the bed next to her friend. She closed her eyes, her fingers kneading her forehead.

"Did something happen?" Priya asked, taking a seat next to her. Nila loved Priya, she swore, but she hated that she wouldn't leave people alone when they wanted to be. She was incapable of taking a hint, especially when someone wanted space. "Talk to me. Was class tiring? Was it a teacher? Tell me. Talking helps, you know."

Nila couldn't guarantee that Priya would end up becoming a chemistry professor but she knew one-hundred-percent that she would become a helicopter parent. Nila felt bad for her kids. "I am fine, Pri. I just need some space and rest. It was a long day."

"Are you sure? I feel like something happened. You can always talk—"

"Yeah, I know."

Anamika opened her eyes, shifting around. "Priya, fuck off and leave the girl alone. Can't you tell she needs space?"

Priya glanced at Nila for confirmation but Nila quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She didn't need drama in the house as well. She couldn't be like Anamika and not give a damn about what others thought of her or say something like that to anybody's face. Nila liked to be in everyone's good books.

"Well, I'll start heating up the sambar then. Anamika, now that you are awake, you are needed in the kitchen." The clipped tone that Priya was using wasn't a good sign. But Anamika and Priya were known for their inconsistent friendship. One day they'd be acting like rivals and another day they'd be snort-laughing together over an Instagram meme. She could never understand it.

Once Priya was out of the room, Nila opened her eyes. Anamika jumped out of bed, mumbling something under her breath. She saw the sad little pot sitting on the floor. "Now I know why you're grumpy. Who killed this baby?" she asked.

"It was a team effort."

Anamika pushed her lips upwards. "Seems like it was on a hit list for many. Must've either been too much of a goodie or a baddie," she said, seriously. "Rest in peace, green one."

Nila chuckled. That was the thing about Anamika. Somehow she knew how to say the right thing (at least when she was on her good side). They differed drastically in their personalities but somehow they adjusted well with each other. Maybe it was because their interests were so in contrast that there was never a clash of opinion or because they had no problem respecting and understanding each other's wants and needs. They weren't close like she was with her friends at college but Anamika was there whenever Nila needed her.

"How was your presentation?" Nila asked, diverting the topic.

"Accidentally said shit once. The professor might take away a mark or two for that blunder but otherwise it was great."

"That's good. You've been stressing over it for weeks. Now you can relax."

"Yeah, I mean, I just woke up from a six-hour nap on a week day. The party has already begun," she grinned, bundling her short hair into a ponytail that looked like a black pear. "Don't worry about the plant. We'll get a new one. I cleared out some space by the balcony for them already. We'll go plant shopping this Saturday, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." It should make Nila feel better but she couldn't erase DB's face from her mind. Now that her anger had simmered down, she realised how silly she had been. It was unfair of her to blame him for what happened. He had done nothing but offered to help. He had barely held on to protect himself from falling so there was no way he could've prioritized the plant. Even though she didn't like him, she would never want to see him hurt. She'd rather choose his safety over the plant's.

Since she wasn't a big fan of him and he had been right there, it had been convenient for her to take her frustration out on him. He had been a safe object, a poor stranger. Suddenly, Nila burned with self-hatred. She had to fix the situation. It didn't matter that he never apologized for his rudeness that day. Nila wasn't raised to selfishly keep an apology to herself when it was rightfully owed to someone else.

Nila decided that the next morning she was going to find him and apologise for being mean. She was going to se things right.

And for the first time she thought it wasn't so bad that they took the same bus every day.

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"Bye, Ma," Vijay said, carrying his bag and leaning to kiss his mother's cheek. "Make mutton biriyani for dinner today. I'll come back with the trophy."

Vijay's mother laughed and kissed his son's cheek back. "Yes, yes. All the best, kanna."

His father rolled his eyes but there was an affectionate undertone to his action. "Come on, it's getting late. I have to go to work after dropping you, remember?"

"You're just jealous Vijay doesn't give you kisses whenever he leaves home," his mother said, making Vijay bark a laugh. He stuffed the last hard-boiled egg into his mouth and put on his shoes.

"All I want from him is to graduate college with decent scores and get a good job, settle down with a good wife as soon as possible so that I can retire happily," Vijay's father grumbled.

"You sure you don't want a kiss, pa? Or a hug? That's a lot easier to do." His father raised an eyebrow. "Just saying," Vijay said, his lips curling into a grin.

"Just get out of the house for now," he said, picking up his keys.

Vijay raised his arms and stepped out of the house after his mother managed to wish him good luck again. His eyes fell upon his bike standing in the patio, polished and ready to take it for a spin but mercilessly ignored. Vijay's heart pinched, a feeling of longing and fear making his stomach stir. He shook himself out of it, knowing he couldn't afford to get sucked in the quicksand of self-sabotage. Not now, when he had to be focused. He got on his father's bike and waved to his mother before his father sped to the field.

Today, he had the qualifying competition for his state level championship. Vijay was pretty confident he would make it in. According to his coach, he had a pretty good track record than most of the participants. Running was one thing that Vijay was a natural at. He loved nothing more than the adrenaline rush he experienced as the clapper struck loud, the feel of the wind rushing through his hair, making him feel like he was flying and the way his chest pushed against the finish line along with the roar in the crowds.

He loved it all.

He was born to run.

He was born to win.

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Nila had bunked first hour to go to the canteen with Sanjay so she could rant about the previous day over food. Sanjay didn't mind listening to her go on and on about a fucking plant because Nila had bought him a plate of chicken rice and he hadn't eaten anything from morning. The least he could do was listen to her.

"Why didn't you call me yesterday?" Sanjay asked.

"I wanted to. But I don't know. I changed my mind, I guess," she said, swirling the straw in her mosambi juice. "What do you think about the guy from the bus, though?"

"Hmm, like you said, I don't think he is the one you should be mad at. The poor guy was only trying to be kind. But, Ms Nila Pradeep Kumar, why are you so hung up on the guy? You mention a few guys you meet on the bus here and now but this guy keeps popping up in every conversation. Is he hot?"

Nila's cheeks burnt. "What? Um, yeah, he's kinda good-looking."

"The truth, Nila."

"Fine, he is super hot, okay? He has something about him. He is a complete douchebag but other than that, he keeps grabbing my attention even when he is not in front of me. Is that normal?"

Sanjay leaned back and smirked. "Finally I get the juicy details. I guess this is the reward for hearing you talk about your dead plant for thirty minutes. Spill more, babe."

"Spill what? That's all."

Nila didn't see him on the bus today which was weird. This was one day she wanted to see him and apologise for her behaviour but he didn't show up. She was kinda bummed about it and could only hope she would meet him in the evening so she can get the apology over with and remove the guilt off her shoulders.

"No. Do you maybe have a crush on him?" Sanjay pressed.

"Chi, no way. I hated him. Um, still hate him. I mean, I can hate him and still think he is hot, right?"

Sanjay's smirk grew. "Sure, whatever floats your boat, babe. But let me call my bet now. You will fall for him. And you'll come to me then."

Nila blew through her lips and laughed. "Fall for him? No way. I don't even know anything about him."

"Anything?"

She looked away. "Okay, I know he is a college student and he is into sports because of his stinky gym bag. But I don't even know his name."

"You've only just begun interacting. Give it time."

"Please, my parents will butcher me alive if I fall in love with anyone," Nila said.

"That's what every Indian girl or boy says before going and doing the exact same thing. You can't stop things like this, Nila. If it's meant to happen, it will happen."

"I am not brave enough to defy my parents. I won't fall in love, Sanjay. I mean, I've already accepted in my mind that it's gonna be an arranged marriage for me. And I'm okay with it. I don't like the sneaking and lying that comes with love before marriage. I'd rather love openly after getting married."

Sanjay sighed. "You have a twisted sense of understanding things and I respect it. But things change, even mindsets."

"No—"

"Just saying. Maybe I could be completely wrong about him," Sanjay said and leaned in next to her ear, "or maybe not."

She pulled the straw and splashed the drink on him. "Shut up."

Sanjay laughed and pinched her cheek. "You're welcome, babe."

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Nila climbed the bus and her jaw almost fell open as there wasn't much crowd. She could see the floor beneath and this was a marvel. And there was a free seat (wow?!) but only the one next to a middle aged man in glasses. As soon as she spotted it, Nila lunged for it. Her foot hit the legs of the seat just when a hand wrapped around the railing next to hers and a foot joined hers.

She glanced up to meet the familiar pair of brown eyes situated right below a mop of unruly black curls. Nila inhaled a sharp breath. Fuck, who in their merciless minds gave him the right to be this gorgeous?

She withdrew her claim on the free seat by pulling her foot back to herself. "Um, you can take the seat," she told him, looking back at him. He raised one of his brows in question, probably wondering if she had multiple personalities. "I promise you can have it."

His eyes softened as if he wanted to smile at her. He stepped back and waved his hand towards the seat in invitation. "Please. You can take it."

"No, no. You were already on the bus before I got in. It wouldn't be fair of me to take it," she said, stepping back further. There was an awkward tension lingering in the air, intensifying when Nila recalled their last interaction.

"It wouldn't be right of me to make a woman stand while I sit comfortably. My mother would whip me if she catches me doing it."

"Only if she catches you, right? I promise I won't tell," she said, tilting her head to the side with a gleam in her eyes.

The guy smiled softly. "No, really, it's fine. You can take the seat."

Nila tipped her chin towards the heavy bag on his shoulders and the brown paper bag he was carrying in his left hand. "That looks like it's heavy. I have nothing on me except this almost empty tote bag." She jiggled her bag to show it was indeed light.

"But still—"

Someone knocked Nila over, making her crash into him. He shot out an arm to help her gain her balance but both of them weren't focused on how the situation felt all too familiar. A strong-built woman with the perfect magenta rose in her hair wedged herself in between, sitting on the seat with a sigh of relief. She glanced up and noticed him and Nila staring at her with surprise.

"What? Both of you didn't want the seat. I wanted it. I took it," the woman said, shrugging and opening the cone-shaped packet made out of newspaper to munch on peanuts.

"But—" he started.

Nila bit back a laugh. "It's fine. Leave it. Let her be," she said. Nila found the realisation of her denying an empty seat in the bus quite amusing. She would've never dreamed of it.

Both of them faced the windows, looking out onto the passing streets quietly. There was a thick cloud of tension wrapping around them and Nila wanted to break it. In fact, her sole goal for the day was to apologise to this familiar stranger.

But she didn't know how to start. She shifted her weight from one leg to another and looked around aimlessly, distracting herself from the awkwardness slowly creeping up on her. Fuck it, just open your damn mouth, Nila, she thought to herself.

"Hey, I wanted to—"

"Actually—"

Both of them began at the same time. A tint of embarrassment brushed the guy's cheeks. He smiled, a full smile, and that was enough to switch on the sirens in her head. Dimples. Of course, he also had to have dimples. It was as if God had made him to test her limits and her self-control. He was dangerous as fuck. Not prescribed for her and her heart at all. Nuh-uh.

"I'm sorry. You go first," he said. Oh, that delicious deep rumble of his voice.

Nila gathered herself, shoving away inappropriate thoughts from her head.

"Um, I just wanted to apologise for the other day," she paused, waiting for his reaction. He just looked at her with the same small smile. "You didn't have anything to do with the plant getting snapped but I took it out on you. I was having a bad day and I know it's no excuse, but um, I guess I am just trying to tell you I am not usually like this. I am not a mean person. I don't snap at strangers everyday. I am really sorry."

The guy said no word. Nila panicked. Was he mad? He didn't look mad until she brought it up.

Then she remembered her cheap back up."Okay, I have something for you. I am not sure if you like it but since you play sports, I thought you will," she said, handing the sports drink she picked up on the way. "It's a peace offering. Please take it. I am really sorry."

The guy was stunned for a second or so but he slowly took the bottle. "Thanks. I-I didn't expect you to come and apologise so I was surprised. I mean, you don't even know my name so I thought you wouldn't care. This is — uh, thank you for apologising." He scratched his neck lightly before saying, "I-uh, brought you something as well."

"Oh, no you don't have to—"

"No, I am not doing it in return for this. I specifically picked this up for you," he said, handing the brown paper bag to Nila. She was shocked. She looked inside and she thought she was hallucinating. Because there was no way in this world that he would buy her a literal plant! No way.

"I tried searching for the same plant but my pea-sized brain couldn't accurately recall the shape of the leaf so I picked up something that looked similar. At least in my memory. If you don't like—"

"Why?" she breathed out. She was shocked. It was possible she was gaping with her eyes wide.

"I saw the look on your face when that stem broke off. I don't know. I knew I wasn't responsible but I think I wanted to take responsibility. It didn't feel right, seeing you watch the plant snap in two just after the conductor yelled at you like that. No one deserved that."

So, it was sympathy.

Nila chided herself to not be so disappointed.

Why was she disappointed in the first place? Ugh.

"Thank you. It's the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me, especially someone who doesn't even know my name," she highlighted his words again to make a point. "You really didn't have to but I won't ever say no to a plant. This means a lot."

"No worries." He was smiling like a child and it was so adorable to watch. Nila was happy that she made him happy as well. It was a strange satisfaction that she craved more.

"So, what's your name?" she asked.

"Vijay," he said. Vijay was a common name and Nila had come across many of them but the name sounded so damn good in his voice. "And yours?"

"Nila," she shook his hand,"Nice to meet you, Vijay."

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