96- From The Start

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

Around ten till fifteen chapters to go.



Started Typing On - 31/03/2019

Chapter 96- From The Start

~

Jaanvi's Pov:

Today was Wednesday and our appointment with the actual doctor-doctor was on Monday. Five days for me to clear my head before I lose it, I suppose. Kiaan's parents called last night. They've been in contact, after the incident in India his whole family seemed to change. Towards me, far as my judgement. Kajal, his little sister became too sweet. A bit too sweet for my liking, now when I think about it she was just trying to play a nice version of herself towards me. Back then I thought she was pitying me-which I still think but don't take it the wrong way-and trying to show how mature she is.

I can't blame myself, no one can. I mean, you can't just not look at everyone around you with detective eyes after all that had happened. She stays in contact with me, mostly Kiaan but I do see some 'How are you?' texts from her. I reply, but mostly one word. She hasn't texted since two days, which reminds me I should check on her. Maybe relationships aren't as bad. Or perhaps his family isn't as bad as mine.

Me- Hi Kajal, how's life?

"Oh my god." I felt the panic rise within my body. I never say that. The most formal and nicest way I question people about their life is two ways. A- How are you? B- Are you still alive? And C- If you're alive text me back. That's the nicest phrases I can ever use. We haven't bonded very well before but the way I speak I'm sure this 'how's life?' sounds extremely odd.

Too late, the text was already delivered.

I recalled what happened last night. It kind of felt bad. I felt left out.

Flash Back-

I peeked through my phone one last time, checking to see if Aditi had come online but decided to ignore my message for being a stubborn brat for a whole month. But she didn't. She wasn't online. Groaning in responses to my unread message I turned my phone on silent, laying my back flat in annoyance. The network can't be that bad. Can it?

"Regretting the past month?" Oh, how can I forget? Kiaan has to speak. Especially when I'm flaming in all the wrong ways. I decided to ignore him. I turned off the lamp, shutting my eyes. I felt the bed bend which meant he was laying down as well once his laptop was turned off. The duvet cover moved from my top half of the body for a while since he was putting it over himself. "Oh, sorry." He seemed to catch the sight of his actions. Covering me up with the duvet cover, I felt him let out a deep breath. "Jaan--" his husky voice was interrupted by his phone.

Thank god. I don't know why but I released a sigh in satisfaction.

"Namaskar." He greeted a polite hello to whoever was on the phone. "-Yeah, we're both fine." He replied to the supposed 'how are you' question. His parents? It had to be one of his parents or my father. He uses 'Namaskar' for only elder people, for others it 'Namaste.'

(Namaskar and Namaste both mean the same-Hello-but Namaskar is more of a respectful way of greeting someone.)

"Yeah, well, i-i-I wanted to tel--" He let his voice hang lose, letting the caller probably get the hint that I was with him? I heard him shuffle and get up from the bed, walking out in the dark not before closing the door shut. I was all confused. He can't possibly tell his parents or anyone about us expecting. He can't. He shouldn't because we were still getting use to the idea. The idea. "She's going to therapy. I think it's helping a little." Was all I heard before his voice started to fade away into the living room.

Flash Back End-

He spoke to whoever-I strongly believe it's his mum-for an hour or so. I know because I was too anxious to sleep with the possibility of getting 'congratulation' texts or calls. The last thing I wanted to do was speak to people for more than a minute. When he came back after an hour or so I pretended to sleep. I thought he'd say something. Something to my pretending sleeping figure but he didn't. He just slept peacefully while I was shaking in nervousness the whole night.

I'm just going to take these no congratulation messages or calls as an indication of Kiaan keeping it as a secret. Helps me breathe. For a while. I was heading out with a medium sized black plain purse, keeping two novels inside it with my phone I headed out the door.

My fingers were harshly locking the door and clutching the keys in my hand when I heard the noise of my phone. Aditi? With a smile I unzipped my bag, shoving my hand inside the purse to find the thin phone, coming into my grasp my smile faded away slightly. It wasn't my friend but whoever it was I was glad I got a reply.

Kajal- Hi! Great, how are you? Everything is fine right?

Now I felt a bit worried. Is she asking me this because I texted her? Or did Kiaan say something?

My face was still facing the apartment's door, I bored into the white screen, sweating in horror. No, h-he hasn't told. When I pluck the courage to reply I type, 'Good. Why'd you ask? Everything ok at home?'

In an instant, I read her reply. Kajal- Yeah, everything is fine. I was just checking in case. I sighed in relief, I let out a relaxing chuckle, wiping away the sweat on my forehead. I was ready to slide the WhatsApp app up to close the application, once again my phone punned. I felt blank reading her message, my eye just read the question again and again to make sure if I'm right or not.

Kajal- Any plans of coming back to India?

I let out a breath, shaking my head all blown away from her question. I couldn't ignore her text, it'll look rude. And by now she probably saw the two blue ticks, Kajal knowns I read the message because she's online and expecting me to type back. I think. Think hard. I don't know.

Me- Of course, maybe when your brother gets a holiday.

In a second my message was read by her. Below her name I saw the little typing making me go all anxious. I felt the pit of my stomach turn to find out what she thought of my reply. Did it sound rude?

Kajal- Then I'm sorry to tell you but he won't get one any time soon. Christmas and New Year is gone, now it's all busy up there. The latest holiday he'll get will probably be in April. Three months. *Rolls my eyes*

I think that gives me enough time to think over my mess. I sent her one last message, explaining how I've got to shop though she probably knows I've got the appointment with the therapist. I'm sure Kiaan told everyone about Jacinda.

I was walking. Walking to the bus-stop to catch the bus as my transport to Jacinda's office. Kiaan was at work, it took me by surprise to see him not mention anything about my appointment this morning before he left. Either he thinks I can handle on my own or he forgot.

I stopped in front of the big poll with the bus timings, personally I'm not a fan of travelling alone but I have no choice. If I don't go Kiaan would get mad but he'll get madder since I didn't remind him. Either way, I'm screwed but I've learnt to get used to it. A little. The therapist help centre isn't close to my place, even in car it takes around twenty minutes. I could walk for an hour, but the problem was I'd probably get run over by a car since there were no footpaths. Only highways half of the time. Bus number 6 to King Street. I kept chanting 6 in my head in order to remember it.

My hand worked as my shield from the hot sun gazing down at me, impatiently tapping my shoes into the footpath, gulping down the urge to find a shop to get some water. I should have carried my water bottle with me today. The heat of the sun was so devastatingly hot that I felt my head melting under it. I felt dizzy. Sun and I never got along well, I'd always get bad headaches going out in the sun.

"Come on in." I heard an old man's yell. I glanced up, brining my nearly giving up eyes to meet the old man's blue orbs. He gave me a pleasant and very kind smile as I approached him taking my wallet out. "Where are you heading to?" he asked, opening his old palms to me. I dropped the three dollar coins into his hand and eighty cents which he gladly accepted with a smile. So, Kiaan was right.

I remembered him telling me, 'if you're travelling in city it's around three dollars and seventy or eighty cents. Just give eighty ty and if it's seventy the driver would give ten cents back. But if you're travelling outside of the city it can be around fifty or seventy dollars depending on time difference from your booking date and travelling date. But you've got me to drive you around so no worries.' He told me this on our way home from that gala. When I confessed my feelings to him, I still remember it like yesterday. I was happy back then. Doesn't hurt to say, happiest.

"Oxford Street." I replied, thanking my brain for remembering the street name. "Does it come before King Street?" I had no idea. He threw the coins into the small box separated into notes and coins. Not returning me the ten cents I noted the ticket cost me eighty cents instead of seventy. He ripped my recipe from is mini digital gadget, handing the little white docket into my palms.

"No, Child." He shook his head, "Oxford Street comes after King Street. You'd have to walk around five to ten minutes until you reach your destination. My route offers me to only drop the passengers to King Street, if you were to press that little red bell my your seat before I reach King Street I'd drop you off but anything after that, I can't." The old man murmured, pressing a little black button for the door to close behind me making me flinch. I wasn't prepared for that.

"Ok, thank you." I smiled. Turning to my right, giving the driver one last look to register his face in my head before stalking down the bus to find myself a seat. I saw people in all ages, old, some my age and three who seemed to look like students. I found a free seat to my right towards the end of the bus, sitting down there I left my purse in my lap. I made it.

I was sitting on the window seat, the seat beside me was free and in front of it was this red button. The button I was told to press if I wanted to stop to the nearest bus-stop, well, I didn't need that. Reminding myself of the distance between King Street and Oxford Street I opened up my phone to google it, before I could Kiaan beat me with his messages.

I rolled my eyes opening the messages app.

Kiaan- What book did you read?

I don't know how he manages to text me between his work hours but he just does. For the past thirty-one-now thirty three days he's always been asking questions like 'Did something new?' And now he decided to use 'What did you read?' as his more improved question.

I rolled my eyes, huffing.

Me- Nothing.

And he replied back after a minute.

Kiaan- Why?

Me- I was harshly asked to stop reading, wasn't I?

Kiaan- Wow, you decided to listen to me? For once. I'm truly blessed.

Beside my furrow face and curiosity of how he'll reply I couldn't help but let a smile reach out. My lips curved into a little smile as I typed, 'Yes that indeed is true. You are bless, somehow.' It's strange but not shocking that our previous text conversation never made me smile for the past month. Definitely because I gave him one letter answers, therefore he wouldn't be able to joke around like now. It all seemed a little easier that before. I grinning the whole time as I typed the messages but decided to backspace it before sending.

No. I shouldn't send that. It's not about what I wrote. It's how he'll take it. We both may look like similar people with sort of same interest but our brains worked differently for sure. He could get the wrong idea. Idea that I'm normal. I am but not as comfortable or normal as before. It was weird but messaging him seemed easier that living with him under the same roof.

I turned my phone off, looking out the window seeing all the cars driving in the opposite direction as the bus. Papa would like it here. Dadi (Grandma) would love it here. I sadly smiled seeing an old man walking down the park with a women who looked his daughter's age. It only made me sigh. I averted my eyes, bringing them back to the front. I couldn't help but think, what happened to Juhi? Was she out? If yes, then why? She can't be. She can't. Where is her family staying? How are they coping with the reality of his worl-my chain of thoughts were broken by my ringing phone, I startled a little.

Looking around the bus to see most eyes looking in my direction, god, and no. I gave an awkward smile before turning my phone on silent and picking it up. Hello," I said.

"Jaanvi," Oh, Kiaan. I let my eyes drift onto my ring, gazing at it as I waited for him to talk. "I called to say I didn't mean you can't read those books I was ju-wait. Where are you? Why do I hear cars around you?" His concerned and a little annoyed voice ringed in my ear. 'How careless Jaanvi.' He'd definitely say.

"Umm, I decided to us bus as my transport since I don't have a licence here." My voice bounced back at me threw the phone.

"And why exactly?" Well, someone was for sure angry. I can imagine him getting up from his seat if he was standing. His voice was low and menacing, I went still.

"I have an appointment with the therapist, remember? Wednesday?" I hinted, biting my lip so he doesn't start yelling over the phone.

"Today isn't wed-shit." I heard eerie silence over the phone after he cursed. Is that my cue to hang up? I let out a confused breath, a little worried seeing the driver driving faster than before, I had a bad feeling in my stomach. Don't vomit. "-why didn't you remind me? I forgot it. Damn it." He growled, I took the phone away from my ear instantly.

My flung into my mouth to act as a wall for any vomit that may want to come out. Not here. Please, not here. I'd die of embarrassment. I'm sure I will. "I can't come. They won't let me leave early but I could get Reyansh to pick you up after you're done? Sounds good?"

I shook my head in response. But he couldn't see me. I brought the phone close to my ear, putting my hand which rested on my mouth now on my neck, running up and down to get rid of the sick feeling. "No, I'm fine."

Reyansh. Oh, boy. That boy-man doesn't stop talking. He talks. And talks and talks. If he and I were to compete in a chatting completion, he'll win. Even at our wedding he was talking to everyone for hours like he found his long lost family member. At one point I had a feeling he'd keep Kiaan to himself on our wedding night. And I, well, I turned into a mute person. Twenty or thirty minute drive with him, no thanks.   

"No, the bus would take extra ten minutes to drop you off closer to our house. And you'd have to walk extra ten minutes, I'll just ask Reyansh to pick you up. Don't leave without him." He warns, his tone serious enough to shut me up. By now I knew I had to deal with it. "And, Jaanvi?" I hummed in response. "Please, I beg you, don't vomit on him. I care about my shoes and shirts and he cares about his car. Try and hold it." I let out an open mouth offended breath, I mean, what? 'Hold it?' it's not something you can hold or control! I was ready to give him a piece of my mind but I reckon he heard my frustrated breath which is why he said, "-or not. You can puke as much as you want anywhere and everywhere. Free world. Women empowerment." I bet he was smiling by the time he hung up on me.

What, I'm a vomit machine now? 'Anywhere and everywhere?'

I was sitting on the arm chair, playing candy crush on my phone since I was told to wait until Jacinda calls my name out. I was only wearing a maroon and white striped woven top, it was a V-neck with long sleeves paired with black jeans and I regretted it. Kiaan was right, I'm not used to the weather so I should always carry a jumper or jacket. The problem was, when I was getting ready it was windy. So I decided to wear something light, then by the time I started walking to the bus-stand it was sunny. And inside this room-waiting area they've turned the air conditioning on, and I'm sitting close to it. Damn this. I was running my hands through my covered up arms, trying to get rid of the Goosebumps. I could sit somewhere else but I preferred this. I wasn't going to sit with a tipsy looking guy who looked a little older than me.

"Jaanvi Rajput?" It felt like my teacher was reading the roll, expect my name was Ahuja back then. My lashes looked up to meet Jacinda's face. She was trying to smile like normal people. I think she's not very expressive that way. If I was asked to recognise her without seeing her face I would. Her thick American accent played around with my name in such a way that it made me laugh, a funny laugh.

Indian's pronounce my name as 'Jaan-vi' and the 'A' rolls on their tongue like 'Ra-j-put.' But Jacinda calls me out like 'Jeen-v Raeg-put.' And the 'put' just sounds like the English put, if only she knew it's supposed to be pronounced as 'puot' with a hint of 'O,' hiding in there. Papa would try and supress his smile if he was here and Dadi (Grandma) would probably be rolling on the floor laughing at first, then teaching Jacinda how to properly address me.

I gave her a cult not with a warm smiling. Picking up my purse and pushing the phone inside my jeans small-pocket I walked inside with her into her same room. Again, she had too many lights on. She's blind? "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah." I awkwardly held onto my purse's strap, clutching onto it nervously. "i-I-I b-brought some novels to show you." I informed as she walked in front of me with her blue denim jeans paired with also a maroon coloured high-low top. It has a simple round neck with three-quarter sleeves. Her blond hair was left open, touching her shoulders, bouncing up and down as she walked with her heels.

She walked inside the room, holding the door open for me, I mutter a small 'thank you,' sitting on the couch where I sat on Monday. She came after closing the door, sitting on her chair with a professional look. "Novels? I see, go on." Now I felt stupid. Why did I even thought she'd care? She gave me a strict nod, moving her right hand in a way gesturing me to show her.

I pursed my lips, unzipping my bag and took out the two novels. One of them was Dark Water which I spoke to Kiaan about. About Jessica. The other was The Cheerleaders. I wanted to know her opinion. I was getting up to hand it over to her but to my surprise-don't get me wrong, she's sweet. I mean, she held the door for me so it doesn't swing back and hit me but with her professional serious face she can look scary-she stood up and took it from my hand.

"May I?" She eyed the couch, the free space beside me and then looking into my eyes for an answer. I smiled and nodded at her blue ocean eyes, gesturing her to sit. She gladly accepted my response, sitting on the other end of the couch with her body facing mine. "You want my opinion." She stated, putting both the books in the middle of the couch.

My eyes went wide, too wide for my own good. My lips

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net