After eating, Jiya helped her Mom clean up while Papa went outside to attend a call. Jiya adjusted her dress and drank a glass of water. Morning tuition day routines were always hectic and tiring for Jiya. Now, with the addition of practicing for sports, her energy level had already dropped down to zero in the morning itself.
Jiya glanced at her wristwatch. It said 8:25 am, precisely. Papa was outside, waiting for her on his violet scooter which he bought last September. She liked it.
Jiya walked into her room and slipped the school bag on her shoulders. She tried to stand straight but the weight of her bag made her slump forward. A sigh escaped her lips.
"What's wrong?" Mom came and stood beside her and glanced over her shoulders. She sighed and flashed her a sad smile. Jiya sighed again. B*llsh*t!
Jiya made her way out of the front door and into the grassy corridor, whilst dragging her feet. Papa was sitting on his scooter outside the gate. Jiya dragged her 'always-tired' body to the gate. Papa started the scooter and Jiya slumped on it.
She would have focussed on the ride or the surroundings. But no, the same old surroundings bored her all these years. She had better things to do.
What did the word 'secret' mean to anyone? One could refer to the dictionary for precision. Jiya had once looked up in her phone dictionary. They put the definition as - A secret is a fact that is known by only a small number of people and is not told to anyone else.
Now, what did secret mean to Jiya? The word 'secret' for her meant something that she could smell from a distance, and hear when she was close enough to the brain that was cooking the secret.
Interesting, right?
Various kinds of secrets have varying degrees of smells. Speaking of which, Jiya realized that Papa had already stopped the scooter near the school gate. The school was her practice ground. Jiya realized her gift when she was just ten years old, almost at the same time when she had her first period. She never knew if they were connected. She never uses her gift unless necessary. The type of smell determined the type of secrets. So, she never tried to pry open unnecessary and boring secrets.
She walked in through the huge black gate, keeping her eyes trained on her shoes. She hated looking into people's eyes, making them know that she had got dirt on them, that she knew their secrets. She crossed the barricaded sliding doors and a sweet, refreshing smell wafted into her nose. She drew in a deep breath. Her head shot up, trying to judge the source of origin. Her eyes landed on a junior, a cute boy who had his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing his pale, white skin. She snorted and focused on her shoes again and shoved her palms inside her blazer pockets.
This kind of sweet smell meant that the fella had a crush on someone. She could have easily inched closer and pried in his head. But no, she won't. This topic always bored her.
She entered my classroom 10A. Abhi, the class monitor, stood on her way with a sly grin. In his right hand, he kept tossing the duster like a tennis ball.
"Hey, Jee!" His smirk was obvious.
She squinted my eyes before adjusting her specs with her right hand. She knew what he was up to. So, she cocked her head to a side and revealed a slow yet smug smile, "Hi Tadpole!" Being the tallest guy in our class, he surely deserved better than 'Tadpole'. Whatever the reason was, Jiya smiled satisfactorily before bumping her shoulder into his hand holding the duster, knocking it out of his grip. It landed on the floor with a painful thunk, spraying tiny spots of chalk dust on his grey pants.
It could have been a shoulder hit, but he was a head taller than her, making it impossible. She reached the third desk of the middle row. They shared desks and the benches could accommodate three people. They sat three. Some sat in pairs. Jiya let the bag slide down on the desk and she plopped down on the bench. She closed her eyes and a tired sigh escaped her lips. As soon as the school opens each year, houses are divided and practice starts. She felt extra sore and tired because of being a march past candidate in addition to being a House Captain. It's tiresome to run around the three-story building, collecting names, lists and blah blah blah.
But Jiya felt her right cheek burn and she slowly opened her eyes. She almost caught Nishant glaring at her, but he averted his eyes. She snorted in my mind. Till last year, he was the arrogant, cocky class monitor who was floating six inches above the ground. That wasn't her concern until he tried to step on her toes. He tried to deduct her plus points from the Teachers' book because he was the monitor. Jiya was ahead of him by 10 marks in the Terminals, earning herself the third position. He tried to sabotage her at the last moment. But, luckily, Jiya got hold of his dirty little secret, which could destroy his image in front of his classmates. Not that, she wanted to do it. But, he was provoking her. When Jiya had whispered that in his ears, he was beyond shocked. He uttered only three words.
"How did you?"
Jiya smirked. He did something unspeakable. He was being cruel to himself. Jiya would never rat him out. But, for someone who cares for his reputation, a shock was enough. Jiya rolled her eyes before resting her head on the cool desk.