Author's note: Hope you enjoy reading the chapter! Can we please get 135 votes on this chapter?

~Smart waves~

I blankly stared at the marketing textbook in front of me.

Varun had been explaining-or trying to explain-something about different consumer behavior models for the past fifteen minutes or so. He was convinced it would be a major chunk of our upcoming quiz, which was why he insisted I was thoroughly prepared for the subject. However, my sleep-deprived brain, running on exactly four hours of sleep, kept wandering to places it shouldn't. Specifically, to my ex-best friend.

"So, the Nicosia Model model breaks the consumer decision-making process into four distinct stages," he droned on, his finger tracing the different sections of the diagram in my textbook . His glasses slipped down his nose and he pushed them up again with his knuckles, a habit I'd noticed he only did when he was in full teaching mode. Otherwise he would use his index finger.
Huffing slightly, I leaned back on my bed. 

Varun tapped his textbook with his pen in a rhythm that screamed annoyance.

"Sorry," I mumbled, straightening up and pivoting my body toward him like the model student I was definitely not being today.

"The first stage focuses on the first contact between the firm and the consumer," he began once again after making sure I was aware of his disapproval by rolling his eyes and shaking his head and glaring at me.

I took a long sip of the cold coffee that Saksham had brought for me. The ice cubes clinked against each other like little wind chimes. A pair of girls giggled loud enough that I could hear them walk by my room, and I found my attention drifting their way. Their laughter reminded me of how Tara and I would dissolve into fits of giggles during our heated debates over whose 'husband' was more handsome. Tara was Team Edward while I was Team Jacob... Was it silly and over the top? Absolutely, but we didn't care... No. Stop. Marketing. Focus on marketing.
Over a decade of friendship. Ten. Years. We had told each other things that no one else in this world knew about us. But then again, wasn't that exactly why it hurt more? Stop it, brain. Consumer behavior. Think consumer behavior. Think Varun's anger.

I tried to focus on Varun's words and the diagram in front of me, but the arrows all seemed to point to memories I was trying to avoid. Maybe if I just heard her side... No. Nope. Absolutely not. Look at these amazing color choices... but wait... what are these words... they look important. I mindlessly highlighted random phrases with random colored highlighters.
"Sanjana?" Varun's voice sounded distant.

Would it really be the worst thing in the world to let her explain her side? People made mistakes, right? Heck, I've made more mistakes than I could count.

"Are you even listening?"

But, if I think about it objectively...

"Oww," I yelped, my hand flying to my forehead where a sharp sting radiated outward. The sensation definitely jolted me back to reality. I stared wide-eyed at Varun, who looked like he'd just accidentally written what segmentation meant when asked about targeting. "Did you just flick me?" I gasped.

"Sorry," he blurted, horror spreading across his face. "I... don't... You weren't paying attention. You did the same this morning too. And I was just trying to get you to focus... "

"So you flicked me?" I accused, with an exaggerated pout. 

He raised his hand and brushed my forehead with the pad of his thumb, his touch so gentle and apologetic. The throbbing slowly dissolved under his soothing caress. "Sorry. I swear I have never done this. I would never do this. To anyone. I don't know what happened. I promise it will never happen again," he rambled, appearing so genuinely distressed that I had to bite back a laugh.

"Does that mean I'm special to you?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

His thumb froze on my forehead. "What?"

"You said you have never done this before so it means I'm special to you," I teased, enjoying the way a blush crawled up his neck like ivy, turning his tan skin a fascinating shade of light red.

Varun immediately took his hand away and glared at me, or he tried to glare, but clearly he was more flustered than angry.

 "So?" I pressed, biting my lip to contain the laughter bubbling up in my chest.
He closed his book with a thump and began shoving things into his backpack, but I caught hold of his last textbook. We engaged in a brief tug-of-war until he surrendered with an exasperated sigh and settled back in his chair.

 "Sorry," I said, toying with the cap of my pen. "I'm a little distracted."

"Really, I couldn't tell," he mumbled, sarcastically. "So now can we focus?"

I nodded reluctantly and pulled my textbook closer to me. Then a brilliant idea hit me. "Wait...You can help me. You aren't biased to either of us, so you can look at the situation objectively."

"What?"

"Help me solve this dilemma and I promise I'll focus," I said, holding his hand which he obviously immediately pulled away.

"I'm here to help with your exams," he said flatly.

"So I had a childhood friend. Let's call her T," I said, ignoring his refusal. I purposely left her name out to protect her privacy. "Total BFF. We were each other's ride or die. Inseparable. You get the gist. Then she ended up stabbing me in the back."

He looked at me exasperatedly. "The Nicosia Model-"

"Oh, come on!" I leaned forward, deliberately blocking his view of the book. "You're like the smartest person I know. You must have some insight on the situation. Please?" I batted my eyelashes dramatically.

He leaned back, creating more distance between us. "Sanjana, I'm not qualified for this. And honestly I don't care."

"But it's the reason I'm so distracted today. I could barely sleep last night and knowing myself, I am going to be agonizing about this for a long time and won't be able to focus on anything else."

 I threw my hands up. "My brain keeps going 'Hey, remember that time you and Ta-T pulled an all-nighter before finals and created that ridiculous song to remember the periodic table?' or 'Remember how we skipped class and snuck into a concert because she wanted to listen to the artist?' or 'Remember how we cut each other's fringes after watching Youtube videos?' And then I remember why we're not friends anymore and I just..." I deflated and slumped backward.

Varun remained silent, his jaw tight, fingers drumming on the textbook. When I didn't move, he sighed. "Are you done?"

I peeked up at him. "Not until you help me." I sat up, tracing patterns on my bedsheet. "Please?"

He massaged his forehead and then muttered something under his breath. "What did this T person do?"

"Well... You can't tell anyone this okay.." I leaned closer to him and whispered, "She kissed someone I liked."

He raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "Wow... I thought this was going to be serious and I stand corrected."

"Right?" I drawled.

He pushed his glasses up and sighed. "So do you still like him?"

I chewed the inside of my bottom lip. "He is handsome and all but he's not my type anymore. But now, he is too bulky and has far too many tattoos for my liking."

"And is your friend with him?"

"No," I said, unsure where he was going. "At least I don't think so."

"Then what's the problem?" 

"Are you even listening?" I huffed. "She broke my trust! She knew I liked Sameer but she went ahead and kissed him. We were friends for over 10 years, right from kindergarten to like 9th."

"Wait..." Varun pinched the bridge of his nose. "This happened when you were in 9th?"

"Yes, but-"

"And you're twenty-one now?"

"Twenty. I'll be twenty-one soon," I mumbled. 

"So you're telling me," he said slowly, like he was trying to solve a particularly frustrating equation, "That you've been avoiding your best friend all these years because she kissed the boy you liked when you were both barely teenagers?"

I sat up straight, indignant. "When you word it like that, it makes me sound silly!"

"Because it is silly," he muttered.

"It's not about the kiss," I protested. "It's about the principle. The betrayal. The-"

"The melodrama?" he interrupted.

"Wow!" I crossed my arms. "You're awfully judgmental."

His expression hardened. "I'm being objective. Which is what you asked for."

"True," I mumbled. "So, you think I should forgive her?"

Varun sat back in his chair, staring at me for a moment before saying, "I can't tell you what to do."

I started to object, but he cut me off with a raised palm. "Listen, I can see how much this friendship means to you. So you need to ask yourself if what she did is serious enough to throw away years of friendship."

"What would you do if this was your friend?" I asked, "Why are friendships so complicated?"

"I wouldn't know," he said quietly. "But, if I did have...that kind of friendship that you said you had, I wouldn't let it go easily." He immediately looked like he regretted saying it, his walls slamming back up. "Now can we please return to marketing?"

I nodded, unsure of what to say to his veiled confession of not having friends. "That's actually... really good advice. Thank you," I said softly, as he picked up his notes.

"It wasn't advice," he said stiffly. "Just giving you an outsider perspective that you asked for. So, the next model is the Psychoanalytical Model."

"But, I was just saying that you just helped me realize-"

"Sanjana." His tone was sharp. "Either we focus on marketing, or I'm leaving. Your choice. You have wasted so much of our time. You'll only get one break tonight."

I held up my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Let's study," I straightened up and pulled my textbook closer. 

He picked up his phone and restarted the timer. It was our first night of trying the Pomodoro technique, and I had used the first break to return a phone call from Dadu. He said he was going to come down to see us next week and I couldn't wait.

"Break time!" I announced when I noticed we had hit the 20 minute mark on the wall clock.
Varun pushed up his glasses and checked the timer on his phone. "We still have ten seconds."
I flopped against Goldilocks. "Your single-mindedness is pretty annoying, you know."

"Eight seconds," I said, grabbing his phone to make sure I was being precise. 

"You do realize that the point of this technique is to focus on your studies without getting distracted?" he asked, rolling his eyes. 

"FIVE!"

He flinched. "Are you physically incapable of being quiet?"

"Four! Three! Two!" I said louder.

The timer beeped, and I immediately thrust the jar towards him. "Choose one." 

"Sorry?"

"Choose one activity that we will do for this break," I said, shaking the jar with a grin.

"You mean what you will do."

"What do you mean? I thought we were going to do it together."

"No, I'll just be timing you and keeping you on track."

"But most of these are activities for us to do together," I mumbled, staring at the jar. "I seriously thought-"

"You thought wrong," he interrupted. "Now, are you planning to spend the entire break arguing with me?"

I grumbled and picked a random piece of paper. 'Doodle each other.' Well since I didn't have anyone else participating, I decided to draw the both of us. 

As I was doodling, I caught Varun sneaking glances at my masterpiece-in-progress from behind his textbook. Though he tried to appear busy in his reading, his eyes kept darting to my hands every few seconds. 

"Times up," he said, when the timer beeped.

"Ta-da!" I exclaimed, holding up the post-it note I had used to doodle us for him to see.

He blinked slowly, adjusting his glasses as he leaned forward to inspect my artwork. "Is that supposed to be me?" he finally asked, his voice caught between confusion and something that sounded suspiciously like amusement.

"Uh-huh! The glasses are practically a replica of your glasses, no?" I grinned, holding up the drawing at different angles. "I even got that little scratch on the left lens!"

"And the girl is you?"

"Duh!" I said, crossing my legs, bouncing slightly on my bed. "Can't you tell by the excellent fashion sense I've given stick-figure me?"

"Your head looks disproportionate to the rest of your body," he critiqued,  but I noticed his lips twitching at the corners.

I scowled as I looked at the picture again. Okay, maybe my head did look a bit like a balloon on a string, but still. "Who cares? It's called artistic liberty and style," I said, huffing. "My hair looks fabulous and I think I really captured my cute and bright smile."

"Why is my hair like that?"  He pointed to the wild zigzags erupting from stick-figure-Varun's head.

"Oh that," I twisted around to face him properly, unable to contain my grin. For someone who had insisted he wanted nothing to do with my break activities, he was being awfully curious. "Those are your brain waves radiating out because you're so smart and all. And look—" I traced the squiggly lines with my finger, "—they're traveling to me! Each line represents a different subject you're trying to transfer into my head. 

He stared at the drawing again, eyes widening behind his glasses. For a moment, I worried I'd somehow offended him or made him upset. Then it happened – a snort escaped him. Another followed, and suddenly, the dam broke. He was laughing – not his usual controlled chuckle or dismissive scoff, but full-blown, unrestrained laughter. His head tipped back, shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling behind his glasses in a way I'd never seen before. The rich sound filled every corner of my room, bouncing off the walls.

I stared at him momentarily lost in the sight in front of him. His entire face had transformed. Without his perpetual scowl and frown, he looked younger, and so different.  The usually sharp lines of his face had softened, and there was a brightness in his eyes that made my heart do a funny little skip.

All too soon, reality seemed to catch up with him. I watched as awareness crept back in, his walls beginning to reconstruct themselves brick by brick.

"I've never heard you laugh before," I blurted out, desperate to hold onto this moment. "It's nice. You should laugh more."

He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses in that nervous way of his. "Well... the break is over. Let's get the last section of this session done with."

Later, after he'd left and I was cleaning up, I found myself holding up the post-it note again. A smile tugged at my lips as I remembered that moment. I wished I had captured it somehow – not just his laughter, but the way his whole being had lit up.

I wrote our names beside our respective stick figures and added it to my special wall. It deserved to be there. The silly little thing had managed to make him laugh.