“This went on for a few days, a daily exchange of small talk, which made him gradually open up to me. He revealed he had recently been adopted from an orphanage in Mumbai, and that was why he had joined school mid-term. And I figured the reason he was so quiet and kept to himself was because everything was new for him here; a new home, city, family, school, and no friends.
Weeks passed and we became very good friends. He began to smile, a smile that could melt any heart. But there were some days he would seem lost, trying to hide something. It was on these days that I would find random scar marks on his arms. I would try to ask him, but he would ignore my questions with deeply pained eyes.
Out of his many hidden talents, his writing fascinated me the most. And I made him promise to write a head girl speech for me if I won the next year.
Then came New Year’s Eve, he was sitting gleaming when I entered the bus. Excitedly, and even before I could sit, he held out a card inviting me to a party his house that night. I went.
It was a typical South Delhi high society party, overflowing with lights, chatter, music and alcohol, a little too overwhelming. Just as I entered, Meet came running up to me. He had never looked so happy before, and with one of his heart melting smiles, he welcomed me in.
I meet his parents, a snobbish couple, even their “Hello beta” sounding condescending. Meet pulls me away and we move around the party, talking and eating. We walk in the lawns and around the house, and finally he shows me his bedroom, where I crash into a chair. His bedroom was simpler and it suddenly made me feel a lot calmer.
It was closing to midnight, and we stood on the balcony looking over the garden as the guests below began the countdown. 3-2-1, and as the crowd shouted “Happy New Year!” I don’t know what got into me and I kissed him.”