If I were to ask you to name one word which you hated, what would that be?

One word that drove you mad because it triggered bad memories. Or something you've heard for so long; you detested its repetition.

For me, that word was - adjust.

As simple as it meant, my whole life revolved around the universal concept of adjustment.

Ever since my birth, that word braided into my bones, muscles and sinew. My parents passed their inherent trail of adjustment onto me.

You know how plants derived their nutrients from the soil. Well, I derived my recluse persona from that word. Since shifting from India to The States, that dreadful word had taken a whole new avatar.

From getting used to the new sleeping schedule, thanks to the changed time zones, I was also learning to understand new jargon and speak with an American accent. It was harder to make it work since my parents separated.

Not literal.

As per his job's requirements, my father moved to New York while my mother stayed in Boston - her company being our family photos and a cactus.

After a stressful negotiation to decide which place was better for my schooling, my parents prayed to the Gods of pros and cons list.

Their prayers were answered when an opening came from a New York City school. Dad won me and my resentful sense of being. Mom got cactus as her companion and named it Cacks.

Cacks played an important role in my story, I assure you. It was the sidekick all heroes needed.

Not that I was the hero. I was the villain of this story. The real hero was him, whom I still had to meet.

~

"Vaadiicaa Aurora," bridging his eyebrows, the teacher called out my name.

"It's Vedica Arora, sir," I straightened from my seat, blinking my reverie while trying to focus on his American accent.

As a Junior at my new school - St. Stephens - I was familiarizing myself with people who spelt my name wrong, and adjusting to classes that began late in August rather than July.

"Didn't I say the same?" Mr. Howard asked, tilting his droopy eyes at the sheet that had our names. "Vadiicaa Aurora."

"It's not Aurora. I'm not some kind of a dancing light. It's a surname, sir. Arora. Arooraaa."

"Aurora."

"Fuck it." My arms swung around.

The sounds of oohs and ahhs confirmed I did it again. Oops.

Since starting school, this was the third incident in the last week.

There wasn't much I could do but accept Mr. Howard's decision and pack my stuff.

My bag rattled over my back as I trotted down the hall, marching towards the counselor's office.

She sat on her chair and her intense gaze arrested me at the entrance. The pale slip in my hand should have made her cringe but all she did she lend a coy smile, straightening.

Anita Gupta - our guidance counselor was the only Indian I'd come across since my move.

Before we first met, I assumed her to be some white woman who would roll her eyes and narrate I was 'acting out' to punish my parents. But those Cambridge degrees that hung on her walls weren't for show.

She was able to read me well.

"I see you've landed in trouble again," Anita said, placing her black-rimmed specks gently over her nose which framed her oval-shaped face perfectly. "What was it this time?"

"Cussing." I plopped on the chair, sliding the bag off my shoulder. "As always."

"Which word?"

"You want me to repeat it? Again?"

"Yes, I want you to tell me why you said what you said. And what triggered it."

She pulled out her writing pad, peering at me and clicking her pen. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

"Fuck," in a rather boisterous manner, I answered. "Mr. Howard called me Aurora again and that was it."

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic

The sound punctured through my patience.

"Ms. Anita, would you mind?" I pointed at her silver pen. "Not doing that."

Anita imbibed the patience of a thousand Gods when she dealt with me. For all the tantrums I threw at her, she smiled and took it sportingly.

"Vedica, can I ask you something?" She didn't wait for my acknowledgement. "What's the progress on your previous assignment?"

"I befriended the janitor."

"What? I asked you to make friends with people your age."

She tapped on her iPad, skimming through her notes while I sat, crossed legs and arms outstretched over the vacant chairs on both my sides like some mafia boss, waiting for her to realize her mistake.

"See. It says here." She tapped at her screen. "You need to make new friends."

"Exactly. My assignment was to make new friends... Anyone," I began, my voice boastful. "So, Greg, our janitor, is an Italian immigrant whose granny married an American and then travelled here. He had two kids and a beautiful wife and he seemed rather suspicious of me."

While I narrated the task of knowing five things about my friend-cum-assignment, Anita retained her smile, seemingly waiting for her turn.

"You know you can't keep avoiding it forever, Vedica," she said, leaning over the table and tilting her head. "You need to befriend people your age. Not Greg."

Somewhere it ticked me - her calmness. I inhaled deeply, channeling my inner demon to act.

"I have plenty of friends back home."

"This is your new home. New York."

"Pfft, I don't think so. Dad says he is still looking for a transfer back to Mumbai and when he gets it, we'll move."

"Ved," Anita's eyes glistened. Her head slanted towards the table. "I had talked to him when he came to drop you on the first day. He was worried that you are not adjusting here. That's why... he said that..."

"He said he wants to continue here, didn't he? He was lying to me all along."

I watched Anita's head lean into her chest. Her dark brown mane cupped the sides of her pretty face when she nodded. In a couple of weeks, I had confided more in her than I had with Greg - the Janitor and my father.

The truth pinched my senses, awakening me to the harsh reality. Heaviness hung inside my chest as I inhaled.

My little acts of rebellion were only to expedite my father's transfer. I assumed if a traditional Indian father like Jay Aurora saw his daughter going rogue, he would surely take precautions to contain her.

My plan didn't take into consideration the plans he had for himself and his career. It didn't account for the sacrifices he made for us. It was his dream to teach abroad.

After years and years of trying, the right time and opportunity only arrived now.

I, the devil spawn, was prepared to quash his dreams because Facetiming with my friends back home was inconveniencing my sleep pattern.

"Ved," Anita called out. "Are you alright?"

Unsure if it was the striking realization that altered my brain chemistry but I felt a sudden shift from my usual inconsiderate and devious personality.

I found myself trying to understand what my father needed. And What I could do to make his life easier. Maybe, I was adjusting after all.

"Yes, I am fine." I will be fine. "And I am sorry about what I did. I will sort them out myself."

"You don't have to," Anita said, eying the posters behind her that showed people holding hands. "You have us for that. We have senior volunteers who help new students cope with the change. You are especially important because you are-"

"Guinea pig?"

That made her chuckle inward.

"No, because you are from a different country altogether than kids who've come from different states or districts. You're diverse and it's been a while since St. Stephens had a student from India."

"I'm sure there'd be others, right? Someone from Asia."

Was I the guinea pig?

"No. But that's a problem for the school board to look into. You, don't have to worry about that."

I tilted my head on both sides like her words suddenly made more sense. Sometimes pretending to understand what people meant made them stop talking.

Although I decided to improve my behavior and try to understand what my father needed, Rome wasn't built in a day. I'd make mistakes but I was willing to work on it.

Adjusting to the place I'd call home.

"So, are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" I straightened, clutching the armrest.

"Your real assignment. Befriend someone. Anyone." She pointed the back of her pen at me. Chewed-up tip stared near my face. "And that means people your age. Not the Janitor. Or the Principal. And definitely not the Cafeteria Manager, although he's very friendly."

"Then whom? I haven't talked to anyone, yet."

I leaned back in my chair, watching the throng of kids leave their classes at the chime of a bell.

"Not my problem, Vedica. Sort that out. Also, I have a new assignment for you."

"No."

I launched from my chair, ready to grapple her pen if she tried scribbling more instructions. When Anita's peering brown gaze landed on me, adrenaline diffused into thin air, slinking me back in my chair.

"Fine. What is it?"

"Observe," she said, scribbling on her screen. "Observe people and how they are talking to others. And what lingo do they use. Observe everything."

"Like a creepy stalker?"

"Like a debate moderator. Listen and observe. Look for things which might help you."

"You know, for someone with so many Cambridge degrees, you sometimes don't make sense," I said. Anita's face turned to a darker shade of red, her eyes ready to plop off their sockets. "Sorry, I will observe."

She tore a page from her notepad and lent a badly scribbled prescription for me - Observe.

As if that was a highly difficult word to remember.

"One more thing," Anita said when I tossed my bag over my shoulder. "Grab a few of these pamphlets. They might help."

"I don't want safe sex pamphlets. My dad would die of a heart attack if he sees them."

Anita fell back in her chair. Her shoulders and chest rumbled; an unheard vibration danced in the room.

"They are about some competitions, Vedica. There's painting and something else about 'Photographical Muses' and stuff."

"No thanks. I am good."

The hallway was empty when I walked out. So were the classrooms.

With nothing much to observe in the empty gallows, I moved to the lush green area outside, where everyone huddled together before leaving for home.

Girls stood with their gangs, eying me like hyenas, snarling. Boys, most of them had eyes on me below my neck. So much for visual harassment at school.

Then there were couples, intertwined like climbers around each other, sniffing each other's pheromones for procreation.

I, a lone wolf, stood in the midst of all this, eying my observation prey.

Something drew my attention.

Hiding beneath thick vegetation that ran parallel to the garden boundaries, a kitten meowed.

It was barely a few days old. Its ginger-colored fur stuck together and its soft cries died in the aftermath of background noises from the traffic and chatter from the students.

I moved closer but the little ball of glued fur hopped back, hissing at me. I lent a finger and knelt, waiting for him to make contact. If I'd learnt anything from Harry Potter, it was that you always let the animal make the next move.

The kitten, with its doe eyes and cuddly face, tilted its head and watched me. Inches per minute, it moved closer, until its cold nose bopped the tip of my finger.

I made contact.

A flash from somewhere blinded it back into its hiding.

Did someone photograph us?

~*~*~

This is my first attempt at teen fiction. Hope you like this sweet, banter-filled romance.

Oh, and did it tell you, you'd love the male protagonist *wink, wink*

He isn't your usual bad boy. He's a nerd. A good boy.

The bad and the rebellious one is the girl.

So there's going to be a lot of tempting the Saint moments. *Evil laughs* 

And hilarious, fun-filled scenes too.

I had received help from a few friends for the lingo but in case I've missed something, please feel free to correct me.

Also don't forget to vote and comment. Let's get this baby recognized.