The First Crush: at 13

By Sunain Singh Banga

You may have had a Crush on someone.

You may have had a Girlfriend.

You may have had fallen in Love before.

But to how many of you did it happen at the age of 13?

Welcome to The First Crush, a story about two 13 year olds, a tale about a nerd who thought gossip and girls were a waste of time Raman, and the princess of his nightmares Ananya. The first love of Raman s best friend Ronak ignites the spark of love in his life. But coins turn when Ananya shifts a thousand miles away. What happens when some other guy wants Ananya at all costs? When Ananya already has someone in her heart? And what other surprise does life have in store for them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Notion Press
• Release date: May 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9789352060061

Book preview

what.

Prologue

Come on guys, this is serious! I said.

But are you really serious? You… you have crush on her? Palak asked.

No I’m just kidding with you, I just thought of this big story and want to make a movie on it. What the…? You think I’m telling you both a story I read somewhere? I said.

"Maybe! You are nuts," Ronak said, stressing on the ‘are’.

Thanks, but I’m serious about this. Now is it clear enough for you?

But, still, are you sure? Palak asked.

Yeah, I’m damn sure about it, because whenever she is not around me I feel like something is missing, I said.

Do you feel like playing computer games or riding your cycle when she’s not nearby? Ronak asked.

N…No, I said with a little hesitation.

Palak, he is serious, Ronak said.

How do you know? Palak said.

Because he is mad about just two things in this world… Ronak said. Well, actually, one more question. You hated her until yesterday, and now suddenly you have a crush on her? How?

Yeah, I lied about that. But I was…I was… I stuttered.

Scared... Ronak said, …is the word you are searching for.

No, I don’t want you to tell her, I said.

And that is the definition of scared when you are hiding something from someone and don’t want to let them know, right? Ronak said again.

No, I want to propose to her instead of her proposing to me, I said. Palak laughed and that added to Ronak’s humiliation.

Yeah, yeah… she will die for you, Ronak said.

Maybe, I thought.

Oh shut up, Ronak! Palak said and I thanked her a billion times in my mind. The thing that matters is if she likes you. Does she?

Maybe … I said.

Okay… but she likes your company, right?

Maybe…

You saw something different when she was with you rather than when she was with the others, right?

I think so…

She talks with you more than she does with the other guys, right?

I don’t know! I said, confused as she took me through her rapid fire questions.

Does she have a boyfriend or a crush on someone or something? Palak asked.

Oh, oh I know this one! No! Ronak said. The two of us looked at him questioningly.

It’s obvious… He shrugged. …by the way he came down from affirmative to negation, this one had to be a ‘no’! Ronak said, and I couldn’t help wonder how he and I were friends at all.

I told you to shut up! She scolded Ronak and then turned towards me.

I don’t think she has a guy in her life, I said.

But still, it matters. I am a girl, and I know, trust me! she said, and I looked at her, confused.

Un-uh may I interrupt you? Ronak said.

Yes please, Your Highness! Palak said sarcastically.

Oh get lost. I don’t care about the both of you, Ronak said. Palak and I burst out laughing.

Okay, say what you have to! I said.

No. He was stubborn.

Come on, sweetheart. Say it! Palak said and kissed his cheeks. It brought a child-like smile to his face and I controlled my laughter.

He said he doesn’t think so… so means it’s not clear! Ronak said. Why does he always say something negative? Can’t he just help me increase my confidence? I couldn’t help but think.

Yeah, actually you are right, Palak said. Not her, now! But we can confirm things once and for all if you can tell us your version.

Where do I start? I asked in confusion.

How would we know, stupid? Tell us your story in brief, she said stressed on the word brief for a little too long. And with that, the tale began, again.

Okay, here goes. It begins with the day I first saw her, I said.

Chapter 1

A New Girl in the City

Thursday, 10thJune, 2010

Click. I pressed the button for the elevator. It was Thursday evening.

I was outside my house and the scenery outside the passage window looked awesome with the orange skies dotted with black clouds. My favourite season had begun – the monsoon. I was leaving for my classes–I would prefer saying private tuitions than classes, actually. The elevator door opened and as I entered, a fat man, in fact, a gigantic man, a man who could surely be used as a mattress, welcomed me inside. I crossed him and went up to the only corner left uncovered by him in the elevator and it was behind him. I thought I was skinny enough to get past him, but no. He was too big. He smelled like shit, I know the weather was too hot, but still, what purpose do deodorants serve? I felt like I needed to get away from there but I couldn’t because of the barrier between me and the exit. The elevator stopped at my destination floor – the ground level – and when the doors opened and I left, I felt like could finally breathe again.

I had a class at Esha’s place. Her building was just next to mine. She lived on the second floor, so I preferred using the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator. I rang the doorbell, and to my surprise, she opened the door and greeted me with a big smile. I got to see the smile only today, as she usually never greeted anyone at the door. I was almost sure that the smile was not for me.

Hi! I managed to say with a smile, she stared at me for far too long and then finally let me in.

Before we move ahead, let me introduce myself! I’m Raman. Raman Sahu – cool name isn’t it?

She sat on the sofa and I occupied a chair. Her place was quite like a movie set from the 1970’s. Mosaic yellow tiles with black stones, yellow painted walls, a door that squeaked, a few flower pots on the window sill and a fan which used electricity to produce sound energy instead of wind – it was straight out of a seventies Bollywood film set. Esha wore a yellow coloured shirt with a Barbie print and blue jeans. The yellow was a very unusual shade, not pleasant, but rather ugly. She was never up to the mark when it came to dressing and other beauty related stuff when compared to the other girls in society. She had short black hair which matched her deep black eyes. She was not gorgeous, but one could say she was averagely beautiful. Her face was clear. Whenever I tried to look at her, I invariably noticed was her big nose first. I don’t know which planet she had gotten one from, but she had a boyfriend. I felt sorry for the guy because he had gotten a GIRL – Ghost in Real Life. There was a knock on the door and Esha ran to open it. Vishal and a girl whom I assumed to be Esha’s friend, entered.

Where is Raman? Vishal said, almost shouting.

Here! I replied in a soft tone.

The two girls greeted each other like they had each come into a party of royalty. Vishal had no such pretences and came and sat beside me. He seemed totally exhausted, as though he had ended a marathon. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a red shirt which was wet all over, except for the abdomen.

Ananya… Esha said loudly then softened her voice so we that may hear her name alone, but not their gossip. That was their ploy – an attempt to make us curious and jealous. But it never worked on me, and no longer affected any of the others. Ananya was quite a gorgeous girl. I thought she was easily one of the beautiful girls in our society. Her face was flawless and so was her beauty. She was slim, but was perfect for the ideal girl’s outfit. Her dressing seemed to be amazing, she wore a cheetah-print top and black jeans that suited her perfectly, deep almond eyes. Her straight, brownish–in fact–brunette ponytail was long and added to her beauty. The best part was that I was discovering her for the first time.

Hey! Vishal said, pulling me back.

What? I said, still not looking him in the eye, pretending as though I was listening to him even earlier.

Do you have a crush on Aanchal? He asked.

What the f…? I minded my words right in time and turned to face him. I looked at him as if to ask if my forehead had the words "Hello, Dumbass here!" written on it.

I was the kind of person that wasn’t interested in girls – not that I was gay, but just that I didn’t understand girls. I was content following and remaining interested in the things that I could understand, and the things that didn’t change from time to time according to their whimsical mood changes. I didn’t want to struggle with people that wind up saying something random and quarrel until you agree that it is true even if it isn’t.

I’m telling you what I heard from the others. Everyone says so, he said.

No. Do you think I’m going to have a crush on a BMW? Here BMW did not meant Bayerische Motoren Werke (Berlin Motor Works) but meant Bhutini-Marne-Wali (the evil witch). We generally used these short forms for many girls. Aanchal was Esha’s sister.

Are you sure? He asked. Don’t you think that’s a dumb question?

No, actually I’m not sure. Give me two years’ time and I’ll surely tell you, I said.

Okay so, that is a no, then? He asked.

Yes, I said.

Yes? he said.

Yes, I mean, no.

Decide!

No and no, I don’t have a crush on her, I said the full sentence clarifying his doubts, making sure to verify if he understood it or not.

Aanchal was a bitch. I know it’s bad to say something like that about a girl. But she was ready to engrave, in fact craft permanent tattoos with her nails if you even dared to say something about her – regardless of whether it was a good statement or a bad one. Her point was that someone deigned to say something about her.

Raman, Vishal… Esha called.

We will talk about this later, I said to Vishal as we went to the girls.

By the time class began, we had introduced ourselves to each other and our perfunctory conversations had begun already. There was another knock on the door. This time, it was our instructor. There were four days left for school to begin, but our mentor wanted us to be a step ahead in all our lessons – it never helped, though.

Vishal and I were studying and chatting about why everyone was thought I had a crush on Aanchal. After a few decades, the classes ended. Vishal and I sat on the stairs to the second floor. I thought about it a lot, and even Vishal helped me, but I couldn’t think about it.

I went home. As the day ended, I was engrossed in doing my homework. I had dinner and went to sleep. As usual, my brain– the brilliant contraption that starts working at night – didn’t let me sleep that easily. I was thinking about the same thing.

Monday, 14thJune, 2010.

The day began with the most unpleasant thing: school. Everyone I know has to attend one these days, so I don’t think I need to elaborate on it. But if anyone has a doubt about the life of eighth standard students, especially the seniors who now miss school and have forgotten their feelings when they attended it, SCHOOL is:

S- Seven

C-Crappy

H-Hours

O-Of

O-Our

L- Lives

I went to school alone, still trying to find answers to the many questions in my mind. In class, Vishal asked me about it – it was his way of teasing me. I just shook my head and went past him.

On my way back to the home, I saw my sister Aanchal. It was amazing that her name was Aanchal as well, but she was nothing like the other Aanchal. I waved at her and then something struck me… and flashback.

Divyansh and I were strolling and my instinct told me that I was forgetting something. I asked him the date.

19th! he said.

It is the 19th of December? Interesting. There is something special today, but I don’t remember what; interesting…oh shit! Sorry buddy I have to, have to go, I said and started running.

But where?

To Aanchal’s place! It’s her birthday today and if I don’t go, she will kill me, I said and sprinted away.

The Aanchal I referred to here is my cousin. She is a very emotional person. Fortunately or unfortunately, our bond has been very strong since we were four or five years old, and I was one of her special guests. She never invited me for her birthday parties formally, though, because she used to say, You are not a guest, Raman, you are my best friend, a BFF, you don’t need invitations! BFFs are just expected to show up without any formal invitation at happy and sad times.

I just missed out the word cousin in that event and brought on a big mess for myself. I hated a few girls, and Aanchal(BMW) topped that list. Sometimes, just knowing two people with the same name can cause one quite a bit of confusion, especially if you have friends who are ready to kick your ass anytime.

Saturday, 3rdJuly, 2010

7:00 AM

It was a Saturday. No school, thankfully. I had forgotten to switch off my alarm. At 7:00 AM, it rang at full volume – why is always louder when you don’t need it. I felt like throwing it out of the window, but seeing my phone, I changed my mind and hit snooze on the alarm. After five minutes, it rang again. But this time it a phone call. I struggled and flipped across my bed and answered the call. While flipping the phone, I cursed the person who called me that early in the morning on a holiday. It was Ronak– Ronak Mehta, My Best Friend– calling me.

Hello? I said in a sleepy voice.

Raman, quick your kitchen has caught fire! he said.

What? I cried. Just as I got up, though, I recognized his prank as an attempt to wake me up and replied, No, there is no fire at my place it must be your place! Check next time before you call.

What? Nice one buddy, he said.

Now will you please use your calories and tell me why you took the trouble and call me so early in the morning? I said.

Oh yeah, yeah, do you have windows 7?

Yes, I have a window and it’s 7 in the morning. Fuck you! Can’t you call later?

I knew it! I knew that you will have it! Can I come over to take it? Please! Please! Please! I need it! Please can I come?

Enough! Enough! I said interrupting him. Actually he is kind of nuts. It doesn’t matter because a pair of crazy friends has more fun.

Can you give me Windows 7, please? He interrogated.

Call me later. Bye! I said interrupting him and hung up before he could say anything else.

I switched off my phone, and lay on my bed in peace. I promised myself to get up in ten minutes to get ready and go for a morning walk.

10:00 AM

Shit!

I didn’t realize when I had fallen asleep again. I got up and left the room calling out for my mother. I went past the living room and slipped as I entered kitchen – there was some water on the floor. The fall hurt my bottom badly. I got up and continued my journey to eat a piece of toast and some jam that was left for me with a note which said:

"Have this breakfast, son. Leave if it gets cold. I’ll be back by evening.

-Mamma"

I brushed my teeth and switched on the television. I kept my meal on the table and sat on the chair. I started with my breakfast. Yes, it was ice cold, but the evergreen combination of watching ‘Tom & Jerry’ and a growling stomach don’t let you mind the taste. Mom