A/N : When I wrote Those Bonafide Teens, the only thing in my head was that whoever read it, had to feel light hearted after completing it (kind of like, after you finish watching some super chill, feel good content). No excessive melodrama, no diabolical stuff, no violence. Just fun. I really hope you get to experience just that in this one too ☺️

Even if you haven't read Those Bonafide Teens, you can still go ahead with this one, since it contains the gist of the first part anyway.

Enjoy! ❤️

It's not that I don't like conversations. I love them. Especially if it's with my two best friends and about a very good looking guy. Or Taylor Swift. Or how life is such a gigantic stinking mess.

But I get terrified if I'm facing a random conversation when I bump into someone somewhere and I happen to know them.

That's why when I saw our landlady Mrs Kashyap at Tashan's, the all day dining restaurant outside our housing society, I stuffed a two hundred rupee note into Tashan uncle's hand, grabbed my breakfast tray of masala oats and chocolate milk and darted away to a table as far from Mrs Kashyap as possible.

I stashed a straw which stood out like a sticky middle finger into my glass of chocolate milk and began to sip, hoping Mrs Kashyap wouldn't notice me.

Tashan's was the happy place for all the people in Glenn housing society in Borivali East, Mumbai. It had been only a week since mom and I had moved there.

The price at Tashan's was reasonable, the food tasted good and an upset stomach after eating at Tashan's was unheard of. Which meant the entire society thronged there whenever they couldn't or didn't want to cook.

I watched people flitting in and out of the restaurant for or after a satisfying breakfast as I leisurely devoured my oats. There was a good half an hour left before my school bus arrived.

I was still slightly apprehensive about the whole 'new house' thing but otherwise the society was great. At least, whatever little I knew of it.

They had all the features of an urban twenty first century housing society - a beautiful park, basketball court, indoor swimming pool, gym, you name it.

Moving to this society meant I was also really far away from my two best friends.

Our old house in Bandra was just a stone's throw away from the apartment complex that Riya Dixit and Mishti Kanwal both lived in.

And the fact that I was now almost twenty kilometres away from them, while those two were still just one wing apart and could go to each others' houses whenever they wanted, was killing me.

Unlike me, Mom never had any trouble with making friends. She was very outgoing and already knew many people in the society. I guess most teachers and professors are like that. You can't stand infront of people and talk and teach all day, everyday if you're shy.

Mom knew this and was eager for me to make friends in the society too. Mainly, because of guilt because her job was the reason we had moved.

She had tried to make me befriend the kids downstairs but they were all much younger than me and it hadn't worked.

As I started my breakfast, in order to not look conspicuously alone at my table, I digged out the Biology textbook from my backpack and kept it open infront of me but didn't bother to look at it.

Inspite of me not really knowing anyone, life in the Glenn society had been sophisticated and smooth.

Nothing had gone wrong so far.

And then suddenly it did.

Just as I was scraping out the last bits of the oats into my mouth, a guy wearing grey trousers, white shirt, a tie that matched the blue pattern on the skirt of my uniform and a black Nike backpack that very much resembled my own, audaciously pulled the chair opposite to me and sat down.

"Hey Zoya"

"Varun!", I almost fell off my chair.

"Hey", he said again.

"What are you doing here?", I burst out "Isn't your house in Worli or something?"

"Shh...Zoya.. please", Varun said, "And who told I live in Worli? My house is only two streets away. I just came to have breakfast with you".

"Sad. I've already finished", I said nonchalantly but the truth was, I was petrified.

This was a guy who had set fire to a room. Who knew what he would do to a girl sitting alone at a restaurant?

"Besides I can't have breakfast with strangers", I added with an afterthought.

"Hey! Come on", Varun said "We've known each for more than ten years. But if you want, I can introduce myself".

"No thanks!", I snapped getting up "I think I know you. You look like the jerk who made a fool out of me and my friends last year", I said.

"Zoya, come on. We're in the same class. We have to see each other for another whole year".

"Which is bad enough", I said "without me having to see your ugly face outside school as well".

"You can't keep ignoring me".

"Dude, me and my friends don't want to have anything to do with you anymore. Okay?"

"There was a time when you found me fetching", he said, "Admit it".

"Was there? Okay there was", I said "Happy? Get out now. I've to go to the bus stop".

But Varun wouldn't budge. He reached out to touch my hand.

"You perv.."

"What's going on?"

I turned around to see a guy slightly older than me and Varun, wearing skinny jeans, a black jacket over his tshirt and his long hair falling into his sharp eyes with a casual elegance. A girl sitting at the table in front me was eyeing him hopefully but he didn't appear to have noticed.

I hadn't really seen many people in the society yet. I only knew our immediate neighbours and a few regular customers at Tashan's.

This guy didn't fall into either of the categories.

I'd never seen him before in the society. In fact I'd never seen in him in my life.

To my shock, he placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "Sorry babe, I ran into an old friend outside the restroom and we stood talking for too long".

Okay, I was getting it. This guy whoever he was, was so generously trying to rescue me.

The least I could do was co-operate.

"It's okay..", I didn't know his name "babe".

"Let's go", he said smiling, as I leapt out of my chair and picked up my bag.

"You better hurry up babe. Or you'll miss the school bus", he said.

Huh? That was very smart.

"Zoya is he..?" Varun stammered at me.

"Her boyfriend, yeah", the guy replied without batting an eyelid, before I could open my mouth.

Uh..what?

He saw me gaping at him and nudged me, "Come on babe. Your bus will be here in a minute".

"Uh.. yeah", I said quickly shouldering my enormous backpack and carefully avoiding Varun's gaze, followed my saviour out of the restaurant.

"Thanks for that", I said gratefully once we were heeded to the bus stop.

"Oh that was nothing", he shrugged amiably, "The guy was obviously being pesky. Is he a friend?".

"Was", I said. Mom would've killed me if she had seen me talking so animatedly with a random guy.

But he had only helped me after all, hadn't he?

"Uh...so are you from the society?", I asked, preparing to run away in the opposite direction if he said 'no'.

To my relief he said, "Yeah. Third floor, D Block. What about you?"

"A Block"

"Hmm. Zoya right?"

"Right. Zoya Fakhri. But how did you know?"

"That boy just called you that".

"And how did you know I'm taking the bus?"

"You said it to that boy a minute ago".

"So you listened to the whole conversation?", I asked in surprise. I hadn't even noticed him till he had come up to my table.

Future tip - don't have conversations in public places. Because the walls have ears and um...there might be a very good looking, prince haired, skinny jeans wearing, black jacketed guy standing behind your table, eavesdropping.

"I wasn't eavesdropping", the guy said like he had read my mind "I just..."

"Happened to hear it. Did you?"

"Yeah", he grinned.

Why did you do that back there?

I was dying to ask. But for some reason, I didn't.

The guy decided not to be creepy and mercifully parted ways with me, a good few metres away from the bus stop.

I would've died if my schoolmates had seen a guy waiting with me at the stop. That too, such a good looking guy.

When my bus came thundering down the street, I thankfully hopped in and dashed straight to perch myself on the coveted backseat.

But there was already somebody sitting on it. A girl who I recognised as an eighth grader.

"Umm.."

"Didi, do you want to sit here?", she asked sweetly "I can go to the front".

This was something my popularity-loving best friend Riya would have relished and wallowed in.

But today even I couldn't help feeling a bit flattered.

"Yes please, thank you", I said with a smile.

Being the only twelfth grader on the school bus did have it's perk, I thought as I settled down and stretched my legs.

I rarely engaged in small talk with the juniors, so my morning ride to school would usually be forty minutes of staring out of the window and daydreaming.

Today my morning dream was about the mysterious guy who had saved me from Varun.

It was only when the bus tumbled into Nariman Point that I realised I hadn't even asked for his name.

Never mind. He might come to Tashan's the next day. Even if he didn't, he lived only three buildings away from me. I could easily meet him again.

Zoya, chill!

I drifted into a stupor and didn't wake up till the last stop at Bandra. We'd be at school in five minutes.

As we slowed down and halted, I took the chance to gulp in some water and bent down to retie my shoelace when there was a loud burst of unfiltered laughter filled with wicked amusement, from outside the bus.

Only one person in the whole world laughed like that.

And that bout of laughter, was followed by one of my two favourite voices in the world, "Girl get in, quick!"

Sure enough two seconds later, Riya Dixit with Mishti Kanwal behind her, paraded into the bus.