Atlas
As soon as Aarav grabs my hand and starts running, I know.
I'm still being watched.
But surprisingly, Aarav doesn't ask the obvious questions—Who was that? Why was he following you? Maybe he doesn't care, or maybe he just doesn't want to get involved. Either way, I'm relieved. I don't think I'll ever get the chance to explain why that man was after me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Dad.
"Are you okay, Atlas?" His voice is tense, rough.
I sigh, already knowing where this is going.
"I'm fine."
"I'm sorry," he says. "Your mother sent someone to check on you."
"I know," I mutter.
"Did he hurt you?" His voice softens with concern.
"No," I lie. "I'm okay now. A… friend helped me get away."
I shouldn't have said that. I don't have friends. My mother made sure of that. And my father knows it.
There's a pause.
"Your friend?" Dad repeats, curiosity creeping into his tone.
I can practically hear the questions forming in his head—Who is this friend? What's his name? Where did you meet him?
I quickly correct myself. "No. I'm not friends with him."
Silence.
"Don't tell Mom about this," I add.
Dad doesn't press further. "Alright," he agrees, too easily. But we both know it won't end here.
After a brief goodbye, I hang up. A few seconds later, my phone buzzes again.
"Meet me now."
Mom.
Her tone is sharp, leaving no room for argument.
She's already seated when I step into the living room. I sit across from her, the air between us heavy.
"Are you alright?" I ask, more out of obligation than concern.
"I'm fine," she replies coolly, motioning for the maid to bring something. A plate of oysters is set on the table.
I swallow hard. Oysters.
I hate them.
Still, I force myself to eat, knowing better than to refuse.
She watches me, her gaze piercing. "When did you start going to the park?"
My stomach twists. I knew this was coming.
"Just for a walk," I say evenly, meeting her eyes.
She tilts her head, unconvinced. "Did you make a new friend?"
I shake my head. "No."
Her lips press into a thin line. "Then why did my guard see you with someone?"
Dad, who has been silent until now, cuts in. "So what if he made a new friend?"
Mom ignores him. Her eyes stay locked on me. "Explain."
"He was just a stranger," I say, forcing calm into my voice. "He needed help."
Her expression doesn't change. "So you won't see him again?"
I nod. "No chance."
She studies me for another long moment before standing. "Good. Focus on your studies."
As soon as she leaves, Dad sighs and pulls me into a hug.
"It's okay," he whispers. "That guy should be your friend."
My chest tightens.
I bite my lip, trying not to cry.
Even though I'll never see Aarav again.
The next morning, I go about my routine. College is the same—dull, empty. I try to make friends, but my mother's words echo in my head, and I keep my distance.
She forced me into studying law, a career I never wanted. My father works in banking, my mother is a professor, and me? I have no choice but to follow the path she laid out.
After college, I stop by a convenience store for groceries. That's when I see her—Aarav's aunt.
She waves, and I blink in surprise before giving her a small, uncertain smile.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
"Just getting some snacks," I say, holding up my basket.
Her eyes flick to my college ID hanging around my neck. "You're a student?"
I nod. "Yeah."
Her face brightens. "Then you should join us for dinner tonight at the restaurant!"
I freeze.
She doesn't really know me. Aarav barely tolerates me. But still, her words make something in my chest ache.
"...Should I?" I ask hesitantly.
She laughs. "Of course! You're Aarav's friend, right?"
I open my mouth to correct her—No, I'm not—but the words don't come out.
Instead, I nod.
Her smile is warm. "Then it's settled!"
Before I know it, I'm following her out of the store, completely forgetting the snacks I came for.
The restaurant door swings open at 5:30 PM.
"Mom, where were you? I was waiting!" A voice calls out as we step inside.
A boy, about my age, rushes over. He stops when he sees me, eyebrows raising. "Who's this?"
Aarav's aunt beams. "Aarav's friend!"
Aarav's friend.
The words hit me harder than they should.
The boy extends his hand eagerly. "I'm Rudh!" He speaks so fast I barely catch it.
I shake his hand, still processing. "...Atlas."
I barely have time to sit down before Aarav appears, wearing a blue apron. He sets a glass of chaas in front of me, then drops into the seat beside me.
Leaning in, he whispers, "What are you doing here?"
I smirk and whisper back, "Trying to make you my friend."
He scowls.
"Bastard," he mutters before stalking back to the kitchen.
I laugh.
Maybe I will see him again, after all.