Red. White. Blue. Green. Orange. Purple. Grey.
Now, why is Miraya listing all the colours?
Because she's trying to prove that the probability of Shray wearing a crisp black shirt that looks like it was tailored to hug his toned body is very very low. Out of the broad variety of existing colours, why oh why did he have to pick out the black one?
She squeezes her eyes close and opens them. Shray is standing before her in the damn shirt and jeans that look perfect on him, a smirk playing on his lips. And his eyes are on her.
He knows.
He knows that she finds him out-of-the-friend/enemy-zone attractive whenever he dons black.
Then that very slow bulb in her head lights up with a bling.
He knows because she told him.
It was ethnic day at school. Might as well call it Truth day after what happened.
Ethnic day means every guy was going to be eyeing a girl as if she's never been beautiful before and... vice versa. As for Miraya, she loved a sari but she didn't like the idea of going to school in a sari. At that age, she wasn't used to wearing one and her mother wasn't around to correct her dress if her draping slipped from its position. And since she has to look grand, she has to wear long earrings and leave her hair loose to be on the same level with other girls. It wasn't as easy as it looked. That was why Miraya was glued to her seat, not even bothering to go to the canteen. She couldn't move.
She sent Shray instead.
The boys, for ethnic day, usually paired a shirt with a veshti, which was a white stretch of cloth with printed borders that should be wrapped around the waist and fastened in a... way she didn't quite understand. It was less complicated than draping a sari but she didn't know the technicality of it.
That year, there was a trend going on. Boys paired a black shirt and veshti together and somehow the pre-existing combination suddenly turned into the most appealing look for a man. And not surprisingly, her class boys decided to hop on that trend and colour-coordinate as well. She didn't think much of it.
But oh boy, she was in trouble when she saw Shray in it.
She blushed when he flicked her earrings and said they were weird on her. It was that bad.
And Miraya had a boyfriend.
Nothing made sense.
That was when she decided that Shray in black was dangerous to her well-being and inner peace. She refused to relive the three years she secretly pined for Shray under the security of the best friend label. That story was tragic and it was over and it was buried in the seabed of the Arabian Sea nice and deep with no chance of excavation.
Shray came back from the canteen with two ice lollies. And the end of his veshti was clutched in his hand, as if he was the nonchalant hero of a south-indian film. Good lord.
He placed the lollies on the table and picked up the other end of the veshti to fold it around his knees. His legs with fine hair were visible.
"NO!" Miraya blurted. "No, you're not doing that. Put the damn thing down or I'll complain about you to Meera Ma'am for public indecency."
Shray laughed. But he let the cloth fall back over his legs. "What? Why?"
"Just don't. It's... not nice."
"Is it that bad that you can't even look at me?" His voice was low and offended. Miraya knew he cared about his looks a lot.
She glanced at him. "I'm sorry. It's just... you are too distracting today. And ugh, it's so annoying and I hate it."
"Because of me?"
"Because of you in that black shirt," Miraya muttered.
Shray smirked. "O my sweet Miranda, my dearest soulmate, do you find me attractive?" His lips were pink from sucking the strawberry ice lolly.
She gave him a disgusted look. At least tried to. You see, Miraya was used to Shray's flirty banters but this time it made her heart skip.
"Come on," he pleaded. "I'll never bring up this conversation again."
She stared at him and sighed. "Fine, yes. You look very attractive. So do me a favour and don't wear black again."
"Even more attractive than Siddh?"
Miraya made a mistake. She got flustered immediately and stuttered for an answer. "I'm not answering that question," she finally said, swallowing.
"I'll never tell him what you said, I promise. Give me that ego boost please," Shray said. He knew her answer was him. But he wanted to hear her say it.
She framed her head with her palms and mumbled, "Yes, you are more attractive than Siddh. Now leave me alone."
It was too late. She had given him the satisfaction and he was grinning ear to ear. Clearly, her brain wasn't working.
Shray leaned closer and looked at her with dreamy eyes that stirred something inside her way too much. "O my sweet Miranda, are you finally seeing that you belong with me, your very own Ferdinand?"
Miranda blinked and then recovered only to grab the nearest notebook and smack him with it. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you."
He chuckled and took the notebook. He tore out a page from it.
"What are you doing?"
He put the pen to the paper and began writing. "What do you think? I'm writing a letter to the school to change the school uniform to black."
Miraya couldn't help but burst out laughing.
He still remembers.
"Miraya, right? I've heard a lot about you from your colleague. You look a bit familiar? Have we met before?" Shray asks, stretching out a hand.
Miraya wants to roll her eyes.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. You were different in the pictures."
"How so?" he asks, curious.
She knew he would fish for a compliment. Ha, not this time, Ferdinand.
"No, you looked better in the pictures. The wonders of editing, right? Technology is advancing rapidly." She laughs it off in the end.
"Miraya!" Fiya hisses, elbowing her.
"Oh, did I offend you? If I did, I'm sorry. I was just making an observation," Miraya adds to Shray. He watches her with amusement.
"You're just making this worse!" Fiya whisper-yells into her ears.
Shray shakes his head. "You didn't offend me at all. I like honest women. In the words of one such woman in my life, I look too attractive in black. I was hoping that would help my case."
Miraya openly glares at him. He smirks back.
That's how he wants to play it?
Fine.
Miraya takes a step forward. "Sadly —"
"Okay, let's keep some talking left for dinner, shall we? Now can we go, please? I'm a bit hungry," Fiya interrupts, her eyeballs going frantic, trying to ask Miraya what the hell was wrong with her.
"Oh, yes. Sorry," Shray says and climbs into the car. He is driving himself. Miraya assumed he'd sit in his car and be driven around by highly-paid men.
Fiya and Miraya sit in the back seat.
"Thanks for inviting us, Shray. It really means a lot," Fiya starts and Miraya sighs, looking out the window. The two, who apparently share a lot of interests, keep talking until he pulls up at the restaurant.
"Here?" Fiya asks, craning her neck to inspect the sage green and brown cottage-like cafe. It's very small and it appears to have only four or five tables inside. Even Miraya assumed they were going to have a fancy dinner. There were two-hundred-bucks-for-a-lemondade? kind of restaurants in Ooty. In fact, she has walked out of several of those very modestly after staring at the menu card for an embarrassingly long time.
"Yeah. And hey, don't judge the restaurant based on its size. It's the best Italian place out here. You two are okay with Italian, right?" Shray says, slotting the car between two others and killing the engine.
Italian. She loves Italian. She could live off it forever.
Miraya glances at Shray and wonders if he decided to bring them here on purpose or if it was a coincidence. And it's a work-related dinner, right? Who has pizza for a formal dinner? Shray meets her eyes and raises an eyebrow, making her quickly avert her eyes.
Maybe she is reading into this too much. It's just dinner.
They pick the table at the corner that doesn't have windows and Shray sits with his back facing the rest of the people. Somehow, Miraya ends up directly across from him and Fiya next to her.
Fiya dives into the menu, completely unaware of Miraya looking anywhere but Shray and Shray not looking anywhere but her. Miraya stares at the mosaic painting on the wall emptily and then counts the printed hearts on the tote bag that sits next to the lady in the table before her.
"What do you want?" Fiya asks.
"Anything," Miraya says. She doesn't want to be interested in this dinner. But in truth, the delicious smell of cheese and oregano makes her stomach cry. She is hungry.
Shray repeats Fiya's order to the waiter who stares at Shray like there's a really hard mathematical problem written across his face. He goes on to order pizza for both of them and chooses the one loaded with meat, just like she prefers it to be.
"Anything else, Sir?"
He orders soda. Then, almost as if he had forgotten, he adds, "Make the pizza without capsicums, please."
With an inaudible gasp, Miraya realises that him bringing them to this place is not a coincidence. He remembers her preferences for food and he brought them here because of her. She is unable to believe that he still cares enough to remember all this. Then why did he hurt her? Why did he throw away their friendship like it was scrap?
"You don't like capsicums? Miraya doesn't either. Even the smell makes her throw up," Fiya volunteers information like she has every right to.
"Oh, really? I didn't know. That's great, then," Shray says.
She is so tempted to rebel against the discussion and say she changed her mind about the damned vegetable. She wants to say she likes it just so she can wipe the smugness away on Shray's face. She would have if not for the terrible consequences that followed. She really despised capsicums. It was a nightmare.
Miraya doesn't know from where Fiya picks topics to discuss with Shray, but she is an endless stream of words and dramatic hand movements. Shray seems equally interested in their discussion. And Miraya looks around, bored.
"Miraya, have you seen all of Shray's films?" Fiya asks in an attempt to include her into the conversation. She has done this four times now and each time Miraya gave her only clipped answers.
"No."
"She wouldn't have watched 3AM," Shray says.
She whips her neck to stare at him in shock. "H-how did you know?" Miraya tries to cover up her stutter with her sharp look. That was the only movie she hasn't watched of his.
"It's horror, Miraya."
"So?"
"You hate horror."
Her thoughts disappear from her mind and all that's left is static noise. Miraya panics. It's confusing. Nothing is making sense to her.
"How do you know that?" Fiya asks, dropping her fork and propping her chin on her hand. Miraya can sense that Fiya assumed that Shray was speaking in terms of women in general and was trying hard not to pick an argument about horror and feminism.
She didn't know that he was stating a fact.
"I could tell that you didn't mind watching horror movies. But something about Miraya gave off the vibe that horror isn't really her cup of tea," Shray explains, tearing out a slice of pizza. "It was just a theory."
"Really? Miraya, don't you like horror movies?"
Miraya feels too stunned to grab the opportunity and say she loves horror movies. She would've made a fool out of him and his stupid confidence. But she doesn't say anything. She can't talk.
"Miraya? Are you okay?" Shray asks.
She looks up at him. He isn't grinning anymore. The worry is evident in his eyes.
"You look a little pale," he adds.
"She wasn't feeling well. She told me she felt better in the evening and that's why she came," Fiya says, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Miraya pulls herself together. It's hard and painful to shove away her confusion and hurt into some part of her mind and carry on like nothing happened but she does it anyway. She's used to it. She just needs a minute.
"I'm fine. I think I'm a bit dehydrated," she says, reaching for water. Shray pours her a glass and she forces a thankful smile.
Without a word, she takes a huge bite of her pizza and chews on it, smiling at both of them to show that she is alright.
They resume eating.
A few minutes pass quietly as the three focus on their food. Then, Fiya stands up. "I have to use the restroom," she excuses herself.
As soon as she is out of earshot, Miraya says, "I thought you had no time at all. Where did you find time for dinner with two people you usually don't bother to know the name of?"
"I've been shooting all night till 4 am into the morning. I slept for an hour and went right back into shooting an ad for which I had to travel up and down the hill to reach Coimbatore and come back. I slept for an hour again and did the dress fitting. It was evening already. Do you think I had the time to schedule something else in my agenda too?" he asks, his words coming off a bit snappy. After a pause, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry I just thought — well, then why did you take us out for dinner? You could have chosen to stay in and get some rest."
Shray smiles fondly at her. Her heart is growing back the wings she had chopped off.
No, no, no.
Miraya adds the third item in her list of the dangerous things to her heart. Things to avoid at all costs.
Shray in a black shirt.
Shray's smile.
Shray wearing a black shirt and smiling.
It's just too difficult avoiding them.
"Miran– Miraya, I see my best friend after so many years and how can I not talk to her? I don't care for rest. You won't talk to me directly so I had to go about this another way and trick you into it in the name of a work. Then, and now, you make me do crazy things I've never done before."
Something flutters in her chest.
"But still. How can you last a day with only two hours of sleep? That's so unhealthy, Shray. You have to take care —"
She stops. She is supposed to be angry at him. She hates him. Miraya repeats the two golden sentences to herself.
He deserves to be hurt.
He ruined her life.
Shray leans closer with a smirk and his knees brush against hers. She quickly tucks her legs under her chair as if she was burnt. "I thought you didn't care about me," he whispers.
I thought so too, Miraya thinks to herself, clenching her jaws. Seems like both of us were wrong.
"I don't. Don't fool yourself," she lies instead and reaches for the last slice of pizza.
Shray doesn't let her take it.
"We can share it. Just like we did when we were younger," he suggests. Except when they were younger, there was a lot of yelling and trying to prove who was worthy of the last slice that preceded the compromise.
"Fine," Miraya says and tears out the crust for him and keeps the remaining for herself.
"See? It would be so nice to hang out together, Miraya. We can just go right back into it. It'll be like we were best friends all these years."
No, it won't. She can't just burn down the anger and grudge that she holds against him and act all smiley-smiley with him. He can't get away with it. She won't let it happen.
"No. Do you know how much I hate you, Shray? I can't just pretend nothing ever happened and pick up right where we left off. That's not how it works. Hell, you haven't even apologised to me. I hate that you are so infuriating. I hate that I loved you so much that it doesn't even let me hate you as much as I want to! It's like being stuck in a mental cage with nowhere to go."
Shray's back hits the back of his chair. He clearly didn't expect her to spill her guts out.
"So, just stay away from me. That's all I ask from you. You talking to me as if everything is sunshine and rainbows between us is confusing me and it's only making things worse. My mind is just not in the right place now. I feel like I can't breathe when you are with me. Let's keep this professional. I don't want to talk about us at all. I beg you. Can you do that for me, Shray?"
It's so quiet. Miraya bites her lip to keep them from trembling. And Shray... he looks broken. Like someone pulled his heart out of his chest and snapped it into two right in front of him.
He blinks thrice and then tucks in his lips. The light in his eyes is dead. Those eyes are not the starry night sky anymore. It's now a night sky that's been burned and covered in ashes. Something twists inside her when she realises she is the one who did it to him. She looks down at her lap.
"Okay," he says quietly. Too quietly.
Miraya looks at him.
"Okay, if that's what you want," he says, forcing a smile that's anything but happy. His voice is scratchy as if he is trying so hard not to break down. "Just... Please stop crying. I can't watch you cry."
She doesn't realise she is crying. Miraya touches her cheek and feels the teardrops. She takes the tissue Shray offers and wipes her tears.
She looks at the damp tissue in her hand and wonders,
What does her heart really want?