The world closed
down upon her. This was a moment of eternity, Emma knew. And she had found a
reason and way to live it through.
She was sitting
in the movie theatre, wearing one of her best set of clothes, footwear and a
locket too, and hardly breathing as she clutched on to the person on her
left—Damian Dwight. She smiled, and held his hand even more firmly. As the
movie started, she recalled their start as well...
“Damian!” Emma
heard voices echo in her head, “Damian Dwight? The guy from classes? You’re not
serious, right, Em?” No one would have ever expected Emma and Damian to get
together. Emma herself hadn’t—she laughed as she recalled that one summer
night, as she lay awake on her bed, chatting with Leah. It wasn’t long after
she broke up with Drew, and what with the Ernie and Adrian fiasco... Emma knew
she was broken, and it would be long before she was set right. But Leah was
trying to cheer her up, to whack her brains and guts back in. Emma played
along: Leah could do with a laugh too.
“This sucks, Li,”
Emma had typed, “Where do the good guys all vanish?!”
“Chill, Em,” Leah
had laughed, “You’ll find one soon...”
“What if I don’t?”
“I’ll find one
for you!” She paused, and after a moment, added, “Wait, let me recall those I
know...”
Emma rolled her
eyes disbelievingly. Leah was such a sport at times...!
“Hey, what about
Damian?” she said finally.
“Damian? Who,
Damian Dwight? Artie’s friend from classes?”
“Yeah, that
one...”
“He’s with us in
school, right? He’s in Electronics?”
“Yeah...”
“Li...”
“Yeah?”
“You can’t be
serious!” And Emma laughed aloud.
“What?!” Leah
retorted, also laughing, “Believe me, he’s a gem of a person...! He’s really
simple and down- to- earth and really sweet!”
Emma thought upon
it for a moment, then laughed even harder. “I’ll see, Li,” she coughed herself
back to seriousness, “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle anything for a
while...” And smiling (a hollow smile), she bade Leah goodnight and fell
asleep. It wasn’t long that she forgot about that conversation, even.
Emma recalled the
number of times she had actually faced Damian in school, said something to
him... Once, maybe? She distinctly remembered the time when Leah wanted to
borrow a notebook from Artie, and Emma and Hannah had accompanied her to the
lab, where Damian, Artie and a couple of others sat working on their project.
Emma chuckled at the way Leah had been blushing in front of Artie (those were
their initial days), and Hannah, Emma and Damian had quite a laugh prodding and
poking Leah and Artie whenever the other came around. It had been hardly a
five- second talk, and what with a whole year in between and so many new people
popping in and out of her life, she quite forgot his voice: the day they talked
after that, on the evening of 30th March, she sheepishly admitted
that she couldn’t differentiate between his and Artie’s voice.
She could tick
off the number of times they’d had a chat. Once on Facebook, when she’d seen
Artie’s photos, and Damian was tagged in them (they’d gone for a sea- face
trip, and got back home at midnight. Emma had been
really jealous). Quite some time later, maybe some time around Emma’s 18th
birthday, a school- time classmate decided to make a WhatsApp group for their
class RDE (what compelled him, he alone knew. Emma wasn’t so keen about it).
Three of the 10 participants of the group weren’t on Emma’s contact list. Emma
was quick to save two of them, she recognized their photos (the third person,
she knew she’d seen him, but couldn’t recall who he was). A couple of months
later, Emma’s Facebook calendar beeped, reminding her that it was Damian’s
birthday. It was the end of January, and after six months in college, it was
now a habit to wish anyone and everyone a happy birthday if she had the
contact. She was quick to say a “Hey Damian! Emma here! Happy birthday!” at
eight in the morning. He took a while to reply, during which Emma recalled that
he was in Beth’s college: their day started at nine, not eight (sometimes even
ten, but Emma chose not to think about that). To her surprise, though, he did
reply with a thank you. She talked to him all the way from the bus stop to the
classroom (Peaches exclaimed how Emma even found someone to text that early in
the morning. Emma laughed, and just said, “Birthday wishes...!”), and then he
excused himself saying he had yet to shower and get ready for college. With a
“See you!”, they both shut their chats.
Maybe it was the
same day, or some time around, that Damian’s name cropped up between Emma and
Leah. They recalled the last time they’d talked about Damian; Emma was quick to
point out that he was still single as Leah had told her.
“Naah,” Leah
said, “Seems he did find a girl in college after all...”
And Emma, already
shaken by Vincent’s, Bella’s and Leah’s stories, blurted out, “He’s taken as
well?! This is insane!”
Once, Emma had
also texted him to ask if he had the contact of someone from Beth’s class,
because Beth was supposed to accompany her to the art festival, and (Emma, like
often, cursed Beth’s mobile network) Beth’s phone was ‘out of coverage area’.
It couldn’t be called a proper conversation, though. Emma said two lines,
Damian said two, and it ended.
Artie’s college
had hosted a cultural event, and as a part of it, they’d held a concert of one
of the best singers in town. Emma was looking forward to spending Valentine’s
Eve with college friends and Artie and (if luck permitted) Alex. Alex, however,
was off the grid that evening (now that Emma thought about it, she felt
relieved). Artie met up with her once, before the concert. Then he went off,
saying he’d pick up his friends and they’d eat and come before the concert.
After that hour of waiting and swaying and being pushed here and there in the
line, the concert and its romanticism was heaven. Emma had to admit her college
friends were all insane (including herself). And when it was almost the end,
Artie popped up beside Emma out of nowhere.
“Where the hell
have you been?!” Emma shouted over the noise.
“We were—up in
front—there—they’re all with me—”
And he pointed
behind himself. Emma recognised Ian, Artie’s friend from school, who bleakly
acknowledged Emma’s ‘hello’. And beside him was—Emma stared at him, shocked—Damian
Dwight.
But he seemed so
different now. He had been shy and childish- looking in school. Now, though, he
looked quite mature, like he’d handled bad times. He looked pretty worn and
wrung and tired (not owing to the concert, Emma knew). It looked like he’d
stopped eating—his face wasn’t round anymore. Like someone had sucked the life
out of him. Even though a little taken aback, Emma greeted him. He greeted
back; a nice enough acknowledgement. But Emma was sure to mention this to Artie
when they got home—Damian looked like a wrung sponge now.
And after what
seemed like a long time, they met on WhatsApp again. Emma had recently
downloaded SnapChat on her phone, and had been sending weird photos to anyone
she wished (on her contact list). Damian was one unlucky prey of her new spree.
He responded quite enthusiastically, though. But after consecutively missing
two- three snaps each, he messaged Emma, “I would say watsapp is bttr...”
And they launched
into a long talk. Emma started off by asking him about his cultural days, and
admitted that she had just one job on her cultural days—scanning the crowd for
boys! Damian said his were okay, and added, “You need to search? You’d have a
beeline of boys for you!” Emma sheepishly admitted that she was the renowned
‘Don’ in the first year, to which even Damian agreed and confessed that they
used to call her the ‘Don’ of the area in school. Emma slapped her face and
laughed. The talk moved on to girls: Emma asked if he’d gotten a girlfriend in
college yet (Leah had told Emma, but it would seem awkward if she directly said
she knew he had one). To Emma’s surprise, he denied, saying no girl ever turned
back to look. Emma was chatting with Artie too, at that time.
“Arthur!” she
demanded urgently.
“What?!” he said.
“Damian doesn’t
have a girlfriend?”
“No, he’s
single...”
“But... I heard
he had one in college...”
“Nope, he’s
pretty much single... why don’t you get together with him?”
Absurd idea, Emma
thought. But by some weird coincidence, she and Artie had been talking that
very morning, about how all the good ones were taken and there was a severe
lack of good singles around. “I need to do a census,” Emma told Artie, “of all
the singles in the area. Tell me if you know any...!” It was truly annoying how
even the lamest people got the best- looking ones, and Emma hadn’t even been
able to wipe her ‘Dangerous Don’ image from the crowd, let alone get a
boyfriend. She knew relationships weren’t a joke, but this was demoralizing to
the limit. Arthur’s words held truth. She could try, at least. For once in her
life she could try talking like a girl, and maybe he’d like it and at least
THINK of her as a girl...!
“Begin,” she said
to herself, “Mission Try-To-Flirt...”
She had the Maths
textbook wide open in front of her, though, and normal talks rarely exist when
you have Maths around. Emma excused herself for some time now and then, to
solve a problem. She even asked him an integration formula (Artie cursed her
when he heard about this—you’re supposed to talk normally and impress him, he
said, you can’t shove Maths in there!). Finally, tired of Maths, she sighed and
took the phone in her hand. Both she and Damian were pretty bored, so they
decided to have a round of rapid fire. Emma began questioning him, this time
swearing to ask mature questions. He was
enthusiastic in his replies. Emma popped a question about his friends (she
asked him to tick them off). He said, “Well... there’s Artie, Ian, and a couple
of the others, you might not know them... and then youJ”
Emma pursed her
lips. Is this man okay, she thought, he’s actually trying those lines on me...!
They had a break
in between, and after that it was Damian’s turn to ask. A few general questions
later, he asked, “Do you believe a lot can happen over coffee?” Emma’s naughty
mind was in action, and she chose to give a bubbly answer to that. “Yeah, of
course,” she said, “You wanna try it out?”
Emma laughed to herself: that was a really brave attempt, but then the
man had himself called her ‘don’. Chances automatically spiralled down to
around zero.
“Yeah, sure, why
not?” he said.
Emma stared at
the screen of her phone. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She took
ten seconds to recover from the shock. Then, like she was on a mission, she
hastily screen-captured that part of their conversation, and forwarded it to
Arthur. “Artie,” she asked him, “Can this be called asking out on a coffee
date?”
She waited with
baited breath for another five seconds till Arthur’s reply popped up.
“Of course...
Party!”
Emma laughed.
Yeah, she’d treat Artie one day all right. But now, this was her moment. She
was feeling thrilled, like she’d just completed an ultra- difficult mission. They
seriously went forth to talk about their college timings, and when they could
actually meet up (Damian joked that he needed Emma to complete his journals for
him. Emma agreed). Finally, Tuesday seemed the best. Emma would be done with
her Maths test in the morning, and Damian, having completed his workshop
project, could leave college early that day. That Sunday was the most eventful
one she’d had in a long, long time. She and Damian even tried a virtual chat
outing (Damian was being the true gentleman, Emma noticed. It tingled her
insides to talk about bike rides and coffee dates). Monday was a holiday that
week, and Emma had to visit her aunt’s place—she’d moved to a new house and
called all the relatives to dinner. Emma completed Maths in the morning (as
much as her brain would permit) and spent the rest of the day chatting with
Damian. They’d started talking just two days ago, Emma thought, and now they
talked all day long. The coffee date which had seemed a joke to Emma at the
beginning, felt real. It felt exciting. This was a new start. She hardly knew
Damian, though, so she couldn’t classify her feelings for him. She hoped the
meeting would clear all her doubts.
The dinner wasn’t
such an enjoyable affair for Emma—it was all noisy and crowded, and none of her
cousins came. She was on her own, with Damian on the phone. Artie, Ian, Damian
and a couple of other friends met up after long that evening, and Artie
naturally told everyone about Damian’s date. “They’re not gonna stop pestering
me tonight,” he told Emma sheepishly. She laughed. This was going to be fun,
listening about their antics. Emma had a sudden idea, and sent Damian a voice
note. She had always enjoyed voice chats. She didn’t expect him to reply in
voice, though. But he was a master in surprises. Everyone there greeted Emma
with a hello and an introduction, and in the end even Damian said, “Hi, Emma.”
Emma smiled awkwardly—she couldn’t make out if it was Damian speaking or Artie.
She told him that, rather awkwardly. He laughed, and pointed out that they’d
never talked as such.
The chat
continued all through the evening, and Damian was telling Emma about his
parents. “They had a love marriage,” he mentioned, probably trying to drop
surreptitious hints. Emma chuckled. “That’s pretty motivating,” she joked.
The next morning,
finally Tuesday, Emma woke up blearily at the usual college time. She took five
seconds to properly wake up, rub her eyes, yawn... then she jerked awake. It
was TUESDAY. THE TUESDAY. She hurriedly brushed her teeth, turned on the hot
water to bathe, and started searching frantically for a nice set of clothes
which she could wear to college without her mom doubting her intentions. She
told her mom she’d be late, a couple of hours after college: she had some
practice session, she said. Grabbing her phone hurriedly, she took it to the
best network spot in her house and loaded the messages she might have missed in
her sleep. Damian’s message was at the top—a voice note. I’ve had some influence on this man, Emma thought. Glancing around
to make sure no one was listening, she played it on minimum volume and held it
to her ear.
“Hi, Emma, good
morning...”
Emma just smiled.
Damian talked to
Emma all through her journey to the college. She reached the bus stop, and had
been waiting for some five minutes when a girl from her college (Emma didn’t
know her, she didn’t know Emma, but they met up at the stop every morning)
walked up to her to inform her that the buses were on strike that day; she
asked if Emma would accompany her in the rick. Emma gladly agreed, thanking her
for the information. She told Damian too: she recalled Artie telling Emma that
Damian travelled by bus to college. “Oh god, really?” he said, “I’ll need to
rush then! I’ll be back, text me when you reach college...!”
She reached
college within fifteen minutes, and as she stepped into the classroom, she saw
Bella. She gulped. Bella didn’t know. Actually, only Artie and Jay and Damian’s
few friends knew (all thanks to Artie). “Bellz,” Emma said, walking up to her,
“Be sure to meet me up after the test. Even better, come and sit with me. I
need to tell you a story.” Bella’s eyes widened. “What’s it?” she demanded, “A
Damian thing?” “I’ll tell you later,” Emma said, and smiled. She then
remembered about the bus strike, and hurriedly texted Beth about it.
“Yeah,” she
replied, “Sure. Why not. As if I don’t know the date.”
Emma checked the
date. 1st April. She slapped her forehead.
“Yeah, go on, try
finding a bus then!” she told Beth, laughing hard. A second later, her news app
flashed an update about the strike. She captured the screen, forwarded it to
Beth and said, “In.Your.Face.”
She told Damian
what had happened. He too laughed. They both laughed for quite some time.
Suddenly, a nagging doubt hit Emma. What
if he’s bluffing? She shook herself back to senses. NO, she told herself firmly. Today, it was all a matter of belief.
Emma could not let doubts in. She had faith in the man, and she knew he
wouldn’t do such a thing.
The day was a
whizz of events. After the test, she told a shocked Bella what exactly had happened.
Emma found herself jumping about as she did so. After the test they had a
couple of lectures (she tried talking to Damian during that time, but even he
was in class, and their old building was renowned to block all sorts of mobile
network signals). She did call him up in the lunch break; they had a nice long
talk, after which he ushered her to have lunch, promising to call her as soon
as he was free. She had been relying upon the last two hours of workshop to
keep her busy (she’d told Damian she’d probably finish by half past two, not
before that). Somehow, the teacher didn’t seem to agree with that: she chose to
remain absent. While everyone else in Emma’s batch was thrilled, Emma pictured
a large animated sweat- bead on her head. That meant she’d have to wait for two
whole hours without anything to do. She sighed. Bella had left already. She
walked back to the garden and resumed reading ‘Deception Point’, Damian
messaging her now and then. He sure felt he was making Emma wait, but Emma
assured him she’d go and study during that time.
But she didn’t.
She got bored of reading, and a while later Rob called up, asking Emma to buy
him a marker from the college shop and bringing it to the metal workshop.
Delighted to have something to do, she happily accepted the offer. There were
quite many of her friends there too, and she didn’t mind working there as long
as she had something to do. She cut up Rob’s and Nester’s sheets for them,
roamed around trying to find a charger: she finally found one with Rob (the other
Rob—Rob Keith), but by then the only plug point in the workshop was occupied.
She sighed, and prayed her battery lasted till she met Damian, at least.
Vincent and
Vivian joined them a while later—they had fun pestering Rob (Rob Samson, this
time, the one who’d asked for the marker), writing weird messages up his arms.
Nester shared a couple of hilarious videos with them. “Come on now, Em,”
Vincent said finally, “Let’s go home now.”
“Nope,” Emma said
in a small voice, “You go, I’ll come later, I have some work...”
Vincent raised a
brow.
“I’m going to
CCD,” Emma said, this time definitely blushing.
“OOooOoOOOoohhh!”
Vincent sang, prodding her mischievously, “CCD?! I know what’s happening...!”
Emma knew he didn’t: it was a standard in their class to pester people at the
smallest instances.
Emma grinned, and
said, “Yeah, yeah, that one...”
Vincent’s
mischievous smile vanished in an instant; it was replaced by an interrogative
look. “Seriously?!” he asked, “Who? When? HOW?”
Emma showed him
Damian’s photo. “He was with me in high school, 11th and 12th,”
she told Vincent, and smiled.
“You’re fast,
dude!” was all he said.
Bella called a
while later, and she nothing less than ordered Emma, “Brush your hair. Be
presentable. Don’t fidget. Act like a girl, for heaven’s sake. And DO NOT PAY,”
she added sternly, “Call me after you’re done, I want to hear everything. EVERY
THING.” Emma agreed, and she finally set off, Vivian, Rob Samson, Nester and
Peaches accompanying her (none of them having any idea what she was going to
do). She asked them to drop her to CCD (she’d tried to go there once on her own
and she’d lost her way). They danced around and finally when they reached the
last branch off, Emma made sure they all found a rick and asked Rob and Nester
to drop her off at CCD. Brilliant plan, Emma
thought, nobody gets to know, and nobody
gets hurt.
Damian took a
while to get there: it was probably the first time he’d come to this part of
town, and Emma was afraid he’d get lost or something. She called him up when
she reached there and didn’t find him (she was surprised: the pace at which
they’d been walking, she expected him to get there almost half an hour before
her), and he looked around and read the name off the nearest building he saw.
Emma peeked through the glass and saw the same building right in front of her. At last, she thought, and she wiggled
her fingers into action and gulped and bit her lip. It felt awkward to sit
inside waiting for him. Bellz did ask me
to be a girl, she thought, and I’m
already failing. She was sure if Bella came to know that Emma had to wait
for him, she’d rage. I don’t tell her
ever, she doesn’t come to know. Simple.
Still lost in her
own thoughts, she walked out of the coffee shop, looking around for Damian,
sometimes glancing at her phone. It would have been just fifteen seconds that
she waited, and suddenly he climbed up those stairs and was right in front of
her, a little out of breath.
“Hey,” he said.
Emma just stared
and stared at him, beamed, like she’d never seen anyone like that before (as a
matter of fact, she hadn’t). He’d come there. He’d actually turned up. He
wasn’t bluffing. HE WAS THERE.
Emma grinned at
him, said, “Hi!” and led him inside, opening the door and letting him through. Bellz is not hearing about this one either,
she thought. They went inside, and searched for a place to sit. Never by the front glass, she thought,
and went on inside. She had plans of sitting on the couch: three tables had a
couch. Unfortunately, the two at the ends were taken, and she had no intention
of spending her date cramped up between two working ladies. She needed space.
“This one’s okay?” Damian asked, pointing to a table by the back glass. Emma
glanced around. That seemed pretty much like the last option. She sighed.
“Well, yeah, it’s fine...” And they sat down.
“I’m sorry I’m
late,” said Damian. Emma recognised the voice now. “I, uh... didn’t know which
one you’d like... but...” he dug his pocket and pulled out a large bar of
chocolate, “Is this one okay? I thought you’d like it...”
Emma stared at
him. He was simply... simply UNBELIEVABLE.
Emma recalled the
second day they’d been talking, 30th March, evening. Emma had had a
large bar of chocolate at home and was sharing it with her sister. It was, in
Emma’s opinion, your right to prod people that you had something nice to eat
when they didn’t. She immediately clicked a picture and SnapChatted everyone.
Damian replied, pulling a puppy- dog face, “Won’t you share it with me?” Emma
smiled (she had to admit he looked cute), and promised him she’d bring him a
chocolate on the date. “Hey, I was planning to get the chocolate!” he said,
laughing.
And now, he’d run
after college, grabbed the same bar of chocolate, and reached on time too. What
was it with this guy?
Emma unwrapped
the chocolate, broke off a bit. Then she paused for a moment, then instead of
eating it herself, offered the first bite to him. He smiled, and didn’t even
take it into his hand. He let Emma feed him that piece. Emma blushed. As if
that wasn’t enough, he did the same with her. Emma felt her cheeks flame.
Damian glanced around
for a moment. “They don’t take orders at the table here?”
“Nah,” Emma told
him, “We’ll have to go to the counter.” She pointed behind him.
“Oh... okay...”
he started to get up, “I’ll go get the coffee... What d’you want to have—”
But Emma got up
too. She didn’t need invitation to accompany him anywhere, and she sure felt
awkward sitting there by her own while he got her stuff. That wasn’t going to
happen. Not this time, Bellz, she
thought.
They ordered a
Cafe’ Mocha, and as the man at the counter ripped the bill, Emma herself pulled
out her wallet. Damian waved her hand away. “Of course you don’t pay,” he said.
Emma tried to argue, but he shushed her into silence. Emma smiled.
Before starting
the coffee, Emma made sure she clicked a picture—the woman had naughtily made a
heart shaped foam on it.
They talked and
talked the whole time, sometimes sipping the coffee and eating the chocolate
(Emma had to remind Damian to have it, lest she finish it all by herself). They
talked about college, Artie, classes, Artie, their friends, Artie... Emma had
never heard him talk so much—he himself said he spoke less. Emma could notice
he was opening up (she was glad about that), and he was quite fluent when he
talked (was it in general or only in front of her?) She couldn’t help noticing
the particular faces he made when he talked: he gave that ‘I’m- lost- for-
words’ look quite frequently. Also (she tried hard not to admit it, but it
wouldn’t go away), she sometimes thought he looked a bit like her cousin, her
eldest cousin. She decided never to tell him that.
Emma forgot when
she had last talked so much on completely outdated topics. It was weirdly easy
talking to Damian: it didn’t feel like they were talking for the first time at
all. Half the time Emma was just staring at him—his cute dimple and that tiny
mole on the right side of his face... and his eyes were beautiful: round, deep,
dark... she could stare at them forever.
Time flew by, and
before long it was almost five. “We should actually get going,” Emma said, regretting
it, “it’ll take us time to get home, even.”
They picked up
their bags and stepped outside, and were almost about to climb down when Emma
said, “Wait- wait- wait!” She whipped her phone out. “Photos!” Damian smiled,
and obliged. “Come closer,” Emma said, as she switched on the front camera. She
felt awkward to keep her hand on his shoulder or anything (first time creeps, she thought). He probably felt the same.
Nevertheless, she made sure to lean close on him, and—SNAP! The smile on her
face that she captured was one of the few real ones in the past few months.
Damian clicked one with his own phone as well. “Send that one to me,” Emma told
him, while she quickly added her favourite filter to the photo on her phone and
set it as her display picture. “You’re gonna keep that?” Damian asked her
sceptically. “Yeah,” she said smugly, “I’ll sort it out if Mum says
something...”
The bus strike
was still active: they’d have to find themselves a rick soon. But they didn’t
quite feel the hurry to get home. They lazily walked all the way up to the main
road, and all throughout Damian narrated the ‘scenes’ happening at his college.
Downright daily soap drama, Emma
thought. And the talks never ended. They could keep talking over and over the
same topics and never get bored. Emma liked it that way. That was pretty much
what she needed.
On their way back
home, Artie messaged Emma. “Oh wow nice dp,” he said. Emma sighed. This could
mean nothing good. He’d be sure to send it to anyone and everyone now. Surely
enough, seconds later Damian said that Artie shared the photo on their friends’
group. And they began their rant about Artie all over again. Damian said he’d accompany
Emma to the colony gate, at least. The train station wasn’t far from the gate,
and he even had the main road and the bus depot. He could go home any way he
liked. Emma didn’t object—she actually insisted he come into the colony itself,
so they could spend more time together. After having another short argument
over the fare (Emma lost, naturally), they went into the colony. Damian was
downright impressed. Emma was smug: you couldn’t come to colony and not like it. She kept telling him
stories about the colony on the way. While they were walking, his dad called.
He offered to pick him up.
“Uh, Dad, I’m not
exactly in college now,” Damian said, looking at Emma and chuckling, “yeah, a
bit farther of... we’re a couple of friends, we came down here... listen, why
don’t you meet me at the nearest station? Yeah—yeah I’ll see you there... yeah,
okay... Okay, bye!” and still grinning, he hung up.
He accompanied
Emma till about halfway to her home. Emma suggested they stop there; else
Damian would be confused on his way back. It was all straight up till there,
but the way ahead was wildly twisting. They stood there, talking, for a while.
Then Emma glanced at her watch. It was almost six. “Shit,” she exclaimed aloud.
“You’d better get
going,” Damian told her, “You wouldn’t want your mum to shout...”
“Yeah...” Emma
said, “But your dad hasn’t come yet, has he? Should I wait—?”
“No, it’s okay,
he’ll be on his way... I’ll take some time to walk down to the gate too...”
Their talks faded
away. That’s pretty lame, Emma
thought, that’s not how you end such an
awesome date! She bit her lip, thought for a second, then finally came up
with the solution.
“C’mere,” she
said, and taking a step towards him, hugged him round his neck. He put his hand
round her back and hugged her too. It wouldn’t have lasted more than three
seconds, after which both of them—blushing red—said goodbye and walked their
way, but Emma couldn’t stop smiling. Her heart hammered madly in her chest.
Something had definitely happened to her, she just didn’t know what. Not yet.
She’d walked down
for half a minute and his message popped up again. “Hey,” he said. Emma
laughed; they sure were something like addicted. They talked all the way till
both of them reached home. Then she called up Bella, talked to her for a minute
or so, briefly describing it. Emma’s parents weren’t at home, nor was her
sister. He’d reached home too. In the background was Artie, constantly asking
Emma about the date. “Tell me one thing,” he said, “Do you like him?”
“That,” Emma
said, “is an absurd question.”
“No, tell me.”
“Well, yes, of
course!”
“Then confess
it!”
“Confess what!”
“Say I love you,
dammit, I want a party!”
Emma laughed.
Artie could be so naive at times. Then she thought upon it. Emma couldn’t deny
what she’d just felt. She knew, or at least guessed, what it meant. And she
needed to tell him that. She couldn’t wait for him to say something. That just
didn’t agree with her. Patiently, and very, very carefully, she typed:
“Damian, I’m
still seriously confused (if that’s the right word) how all of this cropped
up... but the fact remains, it’s the best I have felt in a really long time...
I found myself a stressbuster so effective it’s addicting... I’m already
addicted, Damian. This was, still is, something so special and so wonderful I
haven’t felt ever... EVER...! I don’t know about you but... yes, you made me
fall for you HARD today... I slipped and tripped and fell splendidly into the
wondrous depths of the pit of love... And I don’t want to get out ever...J”
And she waited,
holding her breath. Then he messaged.
“Emma... My cute
little don... I have had some really... tough times... last year... and until a
few days back... I just wanna say... I’m like... I really feel... you know,
respected... and like I’m wanted... I feel... I exist... and that’s all because
of you... I mean... I am still scared... and confused... that how can a...
beautiful... wonderful... amazing... really really awesome girl LIKE me... I
still feel that it’s a dream or something... and I’m still trying to find
out... how I got so lucky...and if... this is love... which I still... you
know... don’t know... I love you Emma.”
Emma stared at
her screen. She felt winded. Between those dotted sentences her heart had
pounded like hell; now it stopped completely. She breathed out heavily. And
again. And again. And again. She just stared at that one tiny message. And
almost like the throw of a switch, her eyes welled up. She blinked and tried to
look at the message again. Everything went hazy behind the veil of tears. It
was lucky nobody was at home, because Emma wept like she had never cried
before. She didn’t know why she cried, but she cried her heart out. She was
lost for words. She didn’t know what to say to him. It took her two minutes to
be able to talk to him again. She tried wiping her tears and sending him a snap
with ‘I love you too’ written. Her face was still tear- streaked, but. He knew
she’d been crying (that was probably because she’d told Arthur about it).
And from that
moment onwards, Emma’s life changed.
Damian wasn’t a
man of words, only. When he said something, he did it. When he said he loved
Emma, she knew he did. She’d come to recognise people’s feelings, having hit
her head so hard so many times. He came to meet her the next day too, to her
college (she smuggled him inside; Bella had told she wanted to meet him). They
grabbed a snack at a store nearby, and an ice cream (Emma paid. Not this time, Bellz, she thought). And
yet again, he accompanied Emma to the colony gate (this time they didn’t go
inside). They talked for long this time too. Then Emma remembered. “The note!”
she exclaimed, and dug out her pouch and pen from her bag.
Emma had started
making a ‘good- memory- box’ for the year. Every time something good happened,
she made sure to write it on a chit and drop it in the box. She would open it
up on 31st December, and read all the notes again. This was an
occasion she HAD to note, and she wanted him to write something and sign as
well.
She handed him
the pen and paper. “Do I need to write?” he asked. Emma pulled a face. “I
mean,” he added, “is it okay if I just sign? My handwriting’s too bad...”
“Don’t worry
about that,” Emma cut across him, “Just one sentence! Half a sentence...
Please!”
He sighed, and
obliged. He picked up the pen to write.
“You’re left-
handed?!” Emma squealed. He looked alarmed at the expression. “Can’t I be?” he
chuckled. Emma grinned sheepishly. As soon as he finished writing, she stowed
it back in her pouch. She hugged him goodbye again, this time she held his hand
for a moment as they decided when they would next meet. As she said goodbye and
walked ahead, he called out, “Love you!” She smiled and turned back, and blew
him a kiss.
A week passed by
in submissions, and they couldn’t talk as much, leave alone meet. Emma tried to
persuade him to let her help with the journals, but he replied with a flat NO.
“I can’t possibly ask you to do that!”
“I’ll keep it neat,
promise!” Emma nagged.
“And here I was
trying to be a gentleman...”
Emma laughed.
“You’re my gentleman already, sweetie...!”
Finally weekend
arrived, and Emma, being free that day, asked Damian if she could come down to
his college. “Ya sure, why not!” he said, “So, after college?” “Yep,” Emma
said, “I’ll call you when I leave.”
They raided
McDonalds’ that day (Emma surreptitiously avoided Beth and her classmate as
they waited at the bus stop; she had no intention of meeting them that day),
and Damian told her about his table- tennis career. Emma was spell- bound. He’d
had had a life Emma had dreamed of having. Damian, on the other hand, wished to
have a life like Emma’s. Weird, she
thought.
Emma now talked
every single thing out to him. Be it class matters, something her mum said,
anything, everything. As her submissions week started, she felt the pressure
build up inside her. Exams were near, and submissions were taking most of her
time. It was hell of a headache. Plus, Damian had his exams the next week.
Their plan to meet up and go for a movie together spiralled down a black hole.
Emma wasn’t feeling good at all. That Saturday, Emma rushed down to the
amphitheatre in the lunch break, avoiding Bella’s questions. She called up
Damian.
“Hi baby,” he
said happily, “You’re okay now?”
Emma breathed.
“No,” she said, “No, I’m not okay...”
“Why?” his voice
was suddenly tense, “What happened?”
“Damian,” she
started, “All these submissions, and then there’s this test coming up, there’s
so much to do and so little time, and because of that the movie plan’s being
cancelled and it’s all my fault and—”
All of a sudden
Emma broke down. She started crying as she talked to him. She just couldn’t
hold it back. Her voice must have sounded thick because all of a sudden Damian
left his sentence hanging and said, “Baby... Baby, you’re crying?”
Emma tried to
refuse. Just say no, she thought, don’t get him worked up, you’re crying
without a reason, just say no!
But she couldn’t.
“Ye—Yes...”
“Oh, baby... stop
crying...!”
And he spent the
rest of the phone call trying to console her: he told her to wash her face,
have some water, eat something and then carry on, and that they’d deal with it
and it’d all be fine, and they’d surely go for a movie.
“I’m trying to
imagine...” he said, at last, “the don... crying? You’ll look so cute! Send me
a snap, won’t you?” That made Emma laugh.
Emma was so
habituated to call him up every single day; she couldn’t afford to miss it even
if it meant keeping her lunch for later. One such day, in the submissions week,
Emma had gone down to the canteen alone: the others were busy completing their
journals, and Emma needed a break. She grabbed a snack and went to sit beside
Rob Keith (or simply Keith, as everyone called him). He was waiting for his
girlfriend to come, and Emma was waiting for Damian to call. Keith and Emma
talked on for a while. Then Emma’s phone rang. Damian.
“Hello,” she said
as she picked it up.
“Hi baby,” he
said, “Listen, can you call me back? I’m running low on balance...”
“Ya sure, hang
on.”
She hung up, and
after a moment of dancing around to find network connection (her canteen was
infamous for almost zero network coverage), she finally managed to make the
call.
“Hi baby,” he
said as he answered.
“Hi baby!” Emma
said, too. In front of her, Keith’s head whipped suddenly in her direction.
“BABY?” he mouthed. Emma ignored him, blushing. She continued talking, as Keith
danced in front of her singing, “Baaayybeeeyyy! Baaayybeeyyyy!!” in a super-
annoying voice. Emma mimed kicking him, and he just dissolved into laughter.
“Did you have
lunch?” Damian asked Emma. It was almost a routine for them to ask each other that
(Damian started it; he was well aware of Emma’s not- so- regular- eating
habits). “Yeah,” Emma said, “I’m in the canteen, having some food... Did you eat?” In front of her, Keith gave
her an astounded look, and whispered in a sing- song voice, “DID YOU EAT? DID
MY BABY EAT?” Emma slapped her
forehead and chuckled. Keith wasn’t going to let Emma get away with that. Emma
made sure he didn’t hear her say “Love you” as she hung up. Then the
interrogation started.
“BAAAYBEEEYYYY!”
Keith sang as Emma put her phone down and pulled her plate closer. Emma shook
her head and grinned. Keith demanded details. Emma showed him the one photo she
had, and began telling Keith about him. Keith would understand, Emma knew. He’d
retained a relationship through three years, and that needed intense love and
willpower. He said it was best Damian wasn’t in the same college as Emma (Emma
was sceptical at first, but then understood); you needed some distance, else
the ‘specialness’ of the relationship didn’t last. At least in the beginning,
they needed something to drive them—something that would urge them to have that
‘I- miss- you’ and ‘can- we- please- meet’ feeling till they were mature enough
to understand the unsaid. Emma smiled. No one knew it better than Keith.
Damian was going
to come to Emma’s college that afternoon too. As Emma and her classmates were
sitting in the canteen, he called up to say that he was on his way. Emma was
excited. But she looked at all the people around her, and felt awkward. She
didn’t want all of them to know about it. Not yet. She told Keith, Bella,
Vincent and Tanya about it. Even Tanya suggested she scatter the crowd first:
the man would feel awkward if so many people were to meet him at once. Keith
promised Emma he’d greet Damian with a ‘Hi baby!’ (Emma tried kicking him
again). As they waited outside the college gate, chatting, Emma tried to make
some of the people leave as soon as possible. She failed miserably. With no
option in sight, she turned to Vivian.
“Vivian,” she
said to him in a low voice. He bent down to hear her better. “Do me a favour,
please... catch the next rick and take a couple of people with you... If you
leave maybe the others will follow...” He must have noticed the longing on
Emma’s face, for he patted her on the shoulder saying, “Chill, Em, I’ll get
them out of here... Just call Tanya, I need to say goodbye... And by the way—”
he looked down at Emma questioningly, “When the hell did all of this happen?”
Emma smiled. “First April,” she told him, and went off to call Tanya.
Luck favoured
her, though. Some people left even as she fetched Tanya, and the ones remaining
were okay; she didn’t mind them meeting Damian. He’ll be here any moment, Emma thought, wiggling her fingers in
excitement.
Sure enough, he
came walking down the street moments later. Emma grinned, and ran off to meet
him to the other side of the road. There was no way she was going to let him
close to his classmates. He’d be baffled.
“They’re all
waiting to meet you,” she told him, close to laughing.
“Really?” he
exclaimed.
“Yeah—see that’s
Tanya, that’s Vivian, and Keith, Rob Keith, and that’s Trevor—”
“HI BABY!” Keith
shouted from across the street. Emma slapped her forehead. Damian chuckled
sheepishly. “Shut the hell up, Keith!”
“What, you’re not
gonna let us meet him?”
“He’s not coming
within ten metres of you all!” Emma called back. Laughing, they walked ahead,
where Bella and Vincent stood waiting. “This is Bella,” she told Damian,
“You’ve met her. And this is Vincent... Vincent, meet Damian...” They said a
brief hello, and then Emma pulled him onward, away from them all. Behind them,
Bella and Vincent were singing weird action songs at the top of their voice.
“What,” Damian asked her, “is going on behind us?”
“Ignore,” Emma
told him firmly, “They’ve all gone mad. Let’s just wave a goodbye and leave...”
She turned around
to say goodbye to Vincent and Bella. “Enjoy,” said Bella, grinning. Vincent was
busy trying to grab the attention of Vivian, Keith and the others still
standing by the gate. He waved and waved but no one as much as saw him. Emma
laughed. Finally, Vivian caught his eye, and returned a half- hearted wave.
Emma snorted, and turned around and began walking when—
“Em, they’re
calling you,” Vincent told her.
She turned
around, so did Damian. The whole group of six people (including Keith’s
girlfriend) was waving pompously at them, Keith shouting, “Bye baby!” Emma
didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; she just pulled Damian out of there.
They had an ice
cream yet again, and this time they walked on for some time before catching a
rick. They had to cross roads and avoid traffic: Emma tried her best to find
reasons to grab Damian’s hand. He, however, seemed oblivious to Emma’s
attempts: he held it for a while and let go quickly. Every single time. Emma
stopped trying then.
They finally
hitched a ride, and had travelled not more than ten metres when Emma’s phone
rang. Beth. She sighed. If Beth called, it was usually to ask Emma to wait for
her at the bus stop so they could go together. She answered it.
“Sorry to disturb
your date,” Beth said, stressing every single word.
“What—where are
you?” Emma asked her suspiciously.
“See that bus in
front of you—”
“Yeah—”
“We’re on it...”
‘We’. That meant
she was with a college friend. Emma sighed in relief.
“You’re walking
down to the next stop, aren’t you?”
“No,” Emma said,
“We’re in a rick and going straight—”
“In a rick! Oh,
great—do one thing, I’m at the next stop, pick me up on the way...”
Emma felt like
punching her through the phone.
“No way!” she
shouted, “I’m with Damian!”
“Yeah, so?”
“What the hell—Beth,
are you in your right mind—?”
“What! Can’t you
pick me up? It’s just two of you in the rick anyway—”
“Yes, but I’m
with Damian, for heaven’s sake!” Emma said through gritted teeth, “Don’t crash
my date, idiot! Meet me at the gate if you like!”
“Explains it.
That’s your friendship, then. Good. Bye.” And Beth hung up.
Emma knew she wasn’t
actually angry; it was her way of ending the conversation dramatically. Emma
couldn’t stop laughing. “We could have picked her up on the way,” Damian said
after Emma narrated the conversation to him. Emma stared at him; he deserved a
punch too. “You’re insane, both of you!” she said disbelievingly.
She asked Beth to
meet her at the depot as she and Damian reached there. Beth took a moment to
come, during which Emma ranted about what idiots they both were. Beth walked
into the depot. Emma saw her, and shook her head, laughing. One truckload of antics, she thought.
She introduced Damian and Beth to each other, then asked Damian how he planned
to go home. “I’ll get a bus from here,” he said.
“Oh, okay...”
said Emma, “I’ll wait till it comes then—”
“No, there’s no
need... you can’t be sure of the timing anyway, what if it comes too late...
you get home; don’t want mum scolding you, right?” Emma smiled. It felt awkward
with Beth there...
Screw it, she thought. And ignoring Beth, she hugged
him goodbye like always (she had to bear with Beth’s nagging all the way back).
Deal with it, he’s my boyfriend, and I’ll
always hug him goodbye no matter what...
All of Emma’s
submissions were completed, her tests done, and suddenly Emma found herself
looking forward to the movie date that very afternoon. They’d decided on their
first date itself that they’d watch that particular movie together (you
couldn’t miss love stories when you had a boyfriend to go along). After Damian
was done with his viva, he called up Emma. She dumped all her journals back in
her bag: she’d get them checked some other day. This day was for Damian and
Damian only...
Damian reached
the theatre before her, and he got the tickets (Emma knew it was futile arguing
over the money. She avoided it). They were already late for the 2 o’clock show,
and almost an hour and a half early for the next one. Nevertheless, they
decided to go upstairs and wait in the lounge. Emma had kept three surprises in
store for him. One, a bar of chocolate (a Valentine special one), then a wad of
letters she’d written to him, packed elegantly in a hand- made envelope. The
third one, however, was a crashed plan—she’d brought a one- piece along, and
she’d wanted to wear it for the date. Damian said there was no need of it. And even
she got carried away in talks and forgot.
They talked on
and on and on for such a long time... Emma was the one listening, this time. He
went on and on and told Emma everything he’d ever promised to tell her—the
‘scenes’ happening in his college, the fights he had, about his ex, and all the
issues he’d ever had in the recent past. The way he just blurted it all out to
her melted her heart. She was pretty sure he didn’t tell everyone about it. She
was one of the few. Talking to him, listening to his problems, cursing everyone
who’d caused him trouble... it made Emma feel better. She could keep listening
to him like that forever. He’d feel better, sharing his problems...
Too soon, it was
time for the movie. They blearily got up, and Emma asked him to pass her bag.
He picked it up for a moment, then gave Emma an incredulous look. “What the
hell d’you pack in there?!” he exclaimed, “It’s so heavy!” He opened it up, and
almost everything he found, he tagged it as ‘not- needed’. “This bag’s heavier
that you, Em!” he exclaimed. He refused to let her carry it, and insisted she
carry his bag instead—it was lighter. Emma shook her head and smiled: this man
was simply unmatched.
Emma had recently
had a bout of flu, and she still coughed and sniffed at times. She’d told
Damian she wanted coke and popcorn for the movie, but he waved it off. “Yeah,”
he said, rolling his eyes, “Really possible, me getting you that. So smart,
Em...!” Emma pulled a face (the one she knew he adored), but he ignored her
(although in the intermission he did get a tub full of cheese popcorn and two
glasses of coke; he played around with Emma for a while, not letting her have
it. In the end, he himself picked it up and let her have a sip at times. If
that wasn’t cute, Emma thought, she didn’t know what was).
She sat in the
movie theatre, wearing one of her best set of clothes, footwear and a locket
too, and hardly breathing as she clutched on to the person on her left—Damian
Dwight. She smiled, and held his hand even more firmly. As the movie started,
she recalled their start as well... she recalled every single moment she’d
spent with him. He was an adorable little blighter: he joked, played with her,
annoyed her at times and jumped forth to cheer her up too... and above all, he
loved Emma like nobody ever had. Emma rested her head on his shoulder. How are you so adorable, Damian, she
thought, how in the world did you even
choose to be with someone like me? Her queries apart, he was there. He’d
always been there. And he was there at the moment too, clutching Emma’s hand,
laughing with her, making snide comments how their love story wasn’t so
unfortunate... and when he heard her sniff he actually looked down at her.
“Baby,” he whispered, patting her cheek, “You’re crying?” she didn’t reply, she
just sniffed and kissed his hand. “Oh, my god,” he said, “You’re actually
crying...! Don’t cry, c’mon... Jeez, the don... crying...” Emma choked and
laughed, “...you cry so cutely, you know...” Emma could do nothing more than
chuckle. He made her feel special. He made her feel wanted, like he really
needed her, and her smile, and her support... something Drew and Ernie had
never been able to do. She felt pampered, like a princess, like a child. He was
pampering her, spoiling her, he was giving her the love she’d never had before.
Damian had no idea why Emma was sniffing—the movie didn’t make her as
sentimental as Damian did. Maybe Damian didn’t know, but she noticed him
staring down at her like he’d never seen the likes of her. Emma couldn’t stop
herself.
She lifted her
head, put a hand to his cheek; he turned to face her; and she kissed him.
Emma Jackson’s
first kiss... to Damian Dwight...
