3. Princess
3
Princess
Vihaan
Fifteen Years Ago
I t had been yet another day where barbs had been thrown, and angry glares had been exchanged along with some choice finger-flipping behind the teacher’s back. For as long as people had known them, Vera and Vihaan had been rivals. Everyone at Nagpur International Collegiate School knew that putting them in the same room was like pouring gasoline into fire, a testament to the explosive arguments they’d had. But even with their apparent volatility, they’d been very careful to never breach each other’s personal space. Besides, why lay a hand on someone when words were enough to tear them down?
When Vera angrily rebuked Vihaan, it would be with an insult disguised as a compliment before she’d innocently ask if he required a dictionary to understand what she’d said.
When Vihaan bullied her, it would be with taunts he knew would cause her pretty face to flush and her ponytail to swish about as she stalked away.
She’d called him charming once with a look on her face that told him that she’d found him anything but that. He’d retaliated by addressing her as ‘Princess’, a nickname that had stuck since.
She’d been livid, assuming incorrectly he’d been making fun of her lower economic status. Her immediate belief that he could be that insensitive or snobby had made his hackles rise. Since then, he’d called her princess as often as possible, especially to her face.
Only he knew that he was referring to her regal demeanour that made him feel lesser somehow. Like she was unattainable. Which led to him antagonising her more often. Forcing her to react was the only way he knew to get her to notice him, too. Because for all his trying, he’d never been able to ignore Vera Talwar. Each day after that followed a similar script.
“Hi, Princess.”
“Fuck off, Charming.”
“You’d miss me if I did.”
“Just like I’d miss the plague.”
“Oof you talk dirty to everyone or am I that special?”
At which point he’d wink and she’d roll her eyes, and all would be as it was meant to be.
He’d thought it had been clear to everyone that this little war between the two of them was theirs, and theirs alone. Almost. . . sacred. No one was allowed to interfere or harass the other.
They'd claimed each other in a way. Or so he liked to believe.
Unfortunately, some of the mean girls from his group hadn’t gotten the agenda and had taken it upon themselves to teach Vera a lesson for his sake. Which brought him here, at her threshold for the fifth day in a row, apologising through a closed door. He regretted what had happened more than she would ever know. Seeing her emerge from the girl’s washroom with paint and muck all over her and a split lip, he’d known it had gone too far.
His grovelling however had not worked. He had never apologised for his pranks before, so he didn’t blame her for not believing him. His anger on her behalf had left his so-called posse in fear of retribution. They’d sent their apologies to Vera as he’d demanded, not that it had made one bit of a difference to the angry girl inside the humble little cottage.
“I already said I’m sorry, Vera. If you let me explain—”
“Go away, Oberoi.”
“Open the door, Talwar! I’m not leaving today without talking to you.”
He rubbed his palms together, cupping them around his mouth to feel the heat of his breath. He’d been waiting since the break of dawn for the right moment, approaching the house once he’d seen Vera’s grandfather leave for work. He didn’t need an audience while he did this.
“Go. Away!” he heard her muffled voice bark at him.
“I have absolutely nowhere else to be all day, so I’ll wait as long as it takes!” he yelled right back, bouncing on his feet in place to stay warm, shoving his hands into his pockets as the damp coolness of the morning slowly receded with the welcome rays of the sun.
A moment later, the door flew open, and her furious face came into view. Vihaan immediately noticed her shorn locks and the angry cut on her forehead, wincing in sympathy.
When he attempted to smile sheepishly at her, her response was a low growl.
“Vera,” he sighed, “I had nothing to do with that prank! I didn’t ask them to do it.”
“I don’t believe you,” she spat, crossing her arms across her chest, as if needing to ward him away. “You’ve always bullied me because you hate me. This time, you got your friends to do it. ”
“Me?!” he cried incredulously, eyes popping out. “It’s you who hates me! You’re the one who has always despised me.”
“You deserve it!”
He flinched. Sometimes, he’d hoped that this rivalry was just because of their age, or being part of the opposite sex. Sometimes, he’d wondered if Vera was simply too used to arguing with him and didn’t know how to behave differently. He found her frustrating, but he certainly didn’t hate her.
“Why?” he asked, unable to stop his need to understand the reason for her meaningless hatred towards him.
“Why what?”
“Why do you hate me?”
She glanced away, her fingers tightening over her arm. He almost reached over to stop her from bruising herself.
“Why, Vera?” he pushed.
When she looked up at him, he was alarmed to notice a redness around her eyes. Through the worst of their spats, she’d always held her own. Vihaan had never seen her cry. Ever.
“Because you have everything,” she hissed, her anger causing her tears to spill, marking a trail down the side of her cheeks. “Nanu tells me to respect you. You?”
“I have never asked you to—”
“Nanu simply believes I owe it to you because you are our employer. Nanu works for your father, but you? You’ve earned nothing. Everything you have is because of the Oberoi name. I work ten times harder than you, and I have very little to show for it.”
“That’s not true. You’re one of the smartest students in our school. Everyone knows it.”
“What good is that? That project you signed up for as my teammate and decided you were too busy to actually do? It might have been funny for you to frustrate me, but I had to work on it alone. Because if I don’t maintain my grades, I lose my scholarship. I got an A, but so did you by default. How was that fair? That spot in the debate team I wanted? I got passed over because at the last minute, you waltzed in with a desire to try it out so of course the teacher booted me out to make space for you.
“I’m replaceable because I’m the charity case they’ve accepted as a favour to your dad, and I am reminded of it constantly. You lost interest as you always do, but my spot was never offered back to me. For you, there are no consequences, because in life, you have the upper hand. You will get ahead without effort because you are a man, and you are Suraj Oberoi’s son. The social hierarchy around us recognizes you as superior. But I am far more worthy of the opportunities that are littered around you. So yes, I hate you. Because you have everything I want, and you don’t even care.”
Vihaan stood there long after the door had slammed in his face, Vera’s teary accusations giving rise to something that felt disconcertingly like guilt. His father had yelled and bellowed his displeasure about his careless attitude, and his mother had cajoled and begged for him to change.
Stubborn and headstrong, Vihaan had heard none of those pleas, choosing to live his life in the exact manner he’d wished. Having fun, flitting from day to day with no goal other than to drink with his friends and enjoy life.
But as he walked away from the cottage that housed his supposed nemesis, he felt like he’d been shown a mirror, and he had not liked the image that had stared back.
He realised as shame spread through every part of him, that all he’d done to bully Vera, justifying that she deserved it because of her supercilious, I-am-better-than-you attitude, had only proven one thing.
Vera Talwar truly was better than him.