The Flickering Flame

The 8 am extra class, weekend movie trip, electronics assignment due for next week, midnight Maggi party, practice with the dance crew, 2 shots of Real Guava Nectar, sleeping in the lecture hall, evening chat sessions, watching him from the corner of the eye. Pause.

She was lying on her bed, her curly hair scattered all around her head. Her endless stream of thoughts had suddenly been disrupted by him.

He’s such an idiot, the laziest soul on this planet. Always soaked in deodorant, he doesn’t even bath daily. I’ve to stop thinking about him.

She had to stop the distraction. She could smell a niner this semester. She just had to stick to the plan, and thinking about him certainly wasn’t a part of it. She sat up, pulled back a stray strand of hair behind her ear and took out her iPod.

Damn! Plain White T’s! Why do they have to sing such romantic songs?

This has to be a conspiracy. It can’t be him. He is yet to utter a single word to me…except that awkward moment when he asked me for an extra pen, and he didn’t even return it. Always ready with a stupid smile…such a disarming stupid smile. Whatever! Enough! Peace.

Something beeped. She grabbed her mobile. The idiot had sent her a forward.

P.S: 'She' is a girl. She’s not so fond of her name. She’s shy, frank, straightforward, independent, moody, crazy, courageous, intelligent, strong, reserved and pretty, among other things. She’s unique, and trying really hard not to think about him.