1 1 ■ DAY ONE

I hate going to school!

Its tiring.

To support my claim the alarm I set on my mobile phone the day before the beginning of the school year (probably for assuring myself ,maybe not) snooze once again along with the continuos earthshattering banging on my bedroom door.

Shit.

I think my mother has got a thing for that door!

"I'm already up Amma" I yelled for her to hear (assure her) even though the door is only atmost a 5 feet away from where I am still lying.

Yeah I'm up , but not really 'up'.

The banging stopped but I can still hear her cussing on the other side. Usual.

It's only six in the morning AND it's a Monday.

A freaking MONDAY!

And the problem with mondays are they are compicating-ly simple . Always. I mean it's the people who are making it complicated.

Everybody acts as if there is something particularly new on monday and thinks its different from other weekdays, which is really really annoying -in my opinion -'cause what is so special about this day that a truck loads of home works and assignment varying from writing to drawing to etching in my brain waiting to be thrown up on to the test paper, that teachers always finds the shubha muhuratt on this particular day?

I headed downstairs to come face to face with my Ma running around like a headless chicken. She is always in a hurry. Always.

Never had a day passed without her cussing about lack of time and Me not getting up early!

Yeah, I know I'm a bad example of a daughter right now, but this awareness doesn't make it a least bit less awful for a kid with working mom ,like me.

We 're just a middle class family with either parents working and I'm the single child. I had an older sister who passed away when I was too young to even remember. But that doesn't make me the extra favoured child in the family, sickeningly doted one who was allowed to do whatever the hell she likes. Unfortunately I have strict parents. Both. My dad owns a cafe in the town and 'll be already out before seven. And mom, well she is the Math teacher in my scool.

You can see, my life is complicated. Especially living under the same roof as my math teacher who happened to be my own mom and the only subject I am weak at.

Mom left for school  an hour before me , apparently she had some work left to be done with. Goodness gracious! Don't get me wrong, I love my mom . But she is too over protective of me to leave  me on my own during the morning rush hour. Apparently my late older sister who died while crossing the road when she was ten or so took a toll on my mom. Though not so obvious,  I'm aware of her fears, of losing yet another daughter.

But you can see, the teenager me also have a life. I also wanted to experience everything my peers does . I too wanted to go to school with my friends. I also wanted to experience heartbreaks and break ups! Yo! That seems to be a little crazy but for that I must first be in a relationship don't I? But how could I,  with my mother watching me like a hawk along with the entire staffroom of teachers. The one thing I lack most in my 15 years of living is privacy. At home  it's a big fat NO.

No locking doors , weekly inspection of my mobile phone and whatever ,

I lack privacy!

At school it is a different story. There is nobody out there who doesn't know me. After all I'm the daughter of the 'Hawk' math teacher, as in what they all call her behind her back and mine too. But I'm aware of that and I think its nothing abnormal, that is what fun in high school is like doesn't it? Another thing is Boys don't dare look at me due to my special status of being the Math teacher's daughter. And there goes my dream for high school romance and heartbreak into the gutter.

School starts at ten. I stepped out of my gate at 9 to see my neighbor cum best friend Diya with the usual docile look on her face probably expecting to face my mom pretending to be the well behaved sanskari bestfriend that she is not! She is a little devil in disguise of a  docile sheep.

Peeking behind me her eyes sparked with mischief with the new found knowledge, that is the absence of my mom.

We missed two busses already because Diya has this brilliant idea of flirting with the jobeless guys camping in the bus stop and trolling them. Ofcourse as the bestest friend I complied with her wish. After all I'm the reason why she is forced to pretend to be someone she is not. Cause my mother won't allow me to hang out with her otherwise, see she is too controlling . sigh.

Its twenty past nine when the next bus arrived. I practically dragged my bestfriend inside. Getting onto the bus it was less crowded compared to the ones we usually goes maybe most people thinks like mother who believes in getting to work earlier than required. There were a few students from our school who was immediately alarmed at the sight of me. Peeking behind be they seem relieved; I knew the reason. Seriously?! Just what image does my mom have in their minds? Some sort of demon?!

We seized the seat in the first row just opposite to the front door of the bus. Diya couldn't shut her mouth for a second for a second. I think all the pent up frustration for the past eight months due to my mother's haunting presence took a great toll on her real character. School is thirty minutes ride from my place and after riding for ten minutes the bus stopped at the Central bus stand. At this time there were only 2-3 busses in here unlike what we usually see on other days with my mom.

I was looking out of the bus absentmindedly for the five minutes waiting time to get past so that I could reach school soon cause apparently Diya's babbling has began to irritate me.

"Anasooya Dev, are you even listening to me? "

Her shrill voice woke me out of my reverie as I followed the way she is pointing at right now. She is probably pointing out some guy from the bus that just arrived and parked at the 10 bay . We are in the 8th bay and we could clearly see the first two rows of seat behind the front door of the newly arrived bus since the bays are in an flipped L shape with the 9 th bay on my right and the 10th bay at the corner of the other lane.

Handsome. I muttered in a dazed tone

I know right! I heard her saying.

But unknown to her, I was referring to the guy behind the one she is pointing at.

He had dark skin and black hair with shining black eyes. He was wearing the white shirt uniform which I recognise is from the M high school which is in the town opposite to ours from their unique school badge stitched on his left hand sleeve. I have been to that school. Precisely for a district level writing competition , they are our rivals in every competitions and I hate them. But one thing I instantly liked about the school is their uniform it is in classy and pleasant looking black and white combination with a bright yellow badge on the sleeve. Unlike ours which is typical government school type with checkered green and white shirt and green bottom. Another thing I hate about my school. Technically I hate all schools. But I hate mine more.

As if sensing my stare the boy tilted his neck a little completely facing his left , finally resting his eyes on the creep starring at him - that is me and raised an eyebrow.

Realizing my creepiness I felt embarrassed but still didn't avert my eyes but instead gave him a small smile. He looked amused and smiled back. His smile was warm and he had dimples. If I looked at him with Diya's eyes maybe he is nothing but a normal malayali guy. But to me...

I dont know how to explain this. But every blink of my eyes I find him more and more , drinking in his every minute features. And as creepy as it sounds I felt a ache in my chest. I think I just felt the infamous spark just now.

Apart from the involuntary blinking of our eyes neither of us averted our eyes until the bus resonated because the driver started the engine. I gave him a final look and that is when I saw him raising his hands with one of his thumbs curled.

What does that mean?

The bus started moving, exiting the bus stand I had my hands open on top of my school bag on my lap with my thumb curled.

"Nine! what?" I heard Diya's voice and tilted my head to look at her.

"Nine?" I asked confused at her question.

"U saying you'll only score 9 Marks in Friday's math test? God Anasooya! Shall I prepare for your funeral!! Ms.Haw-- no I mean Mrs. Sumitra your mother might kill you with her frightening stare!"

She continued her rambling .I didn't interrupt nor questioned her refusing to take the risk of her finding out the fact that I wasn't listening to her talk for the past five plus minutes. It'll be scary!

So 9 huh! That is what he was trying to show? What does that even mean?

9

9

NINE!!!!

Is he trying to give me his number?!!!!

Anyways, I'll confirm it next time.

Next time! I wonder when I'll see him again! After all I may never get into this bus again. Today it is a rare occurrence with my Amma leaving early and me leaving later than usual.

But a girl can hope! Right?!