Riya

My whole life, I thought at least a million times before making a decision. Siya thought it was insane that I did that, but it helped me a lot. Decisions impacted the people around me, and people mattered to me a lot. Impulsiveness was not something I dabbled in. Still, my fingers hovered over the email, thinking.

"I like this place." Siya munched on the cookie she brought with her. She wore her pastel tulle dress that stopped mid-thigh with her pink bow. It always amazed me how she made all of it work. She could've made a newspaper look good on her.

The clink of coffee cups and the low hum of conversations filled the café, blending into a steady rhythm. I could hear the soft hiss of the espresso machine as it steamed milk, the distant chatter, and the clink of spoons.

"I should've joined this college," She said, looking at Ruhi, who typed on her laptop at a speed that terrified me.

They wanted to see the place where I worked for reasons I couldn't understand. The scent of freshly baked bread hung in the air, and I absentmindedly followed their conversation, letting it all blur in the background.

Ruhi didn't reply to her comment, and it pissed Siya off. She tried closing it and shut it halfway, trapping Ruhi's hand.

"There's no fashion department here," I said as they both continued to glare at each other.

"Too bad. They should definitely add it." Siya turned to Ruhi, "Can you not work here?"

"You sound like a neglected wife. Do we need to have a talk with your boyfriend?" Ruhi replied coolly, finally shutting her laptop.

"Thank you for your offer, but I'd rather you find one for yourself so your life can revolve around things other than academics."

"And she started her tune again." Ruhi rolled her eyes, picking up her cup of coffee. They were sitting on the lone chairs in front of the counter and I stood behind the counter.

"What happened to that date you went on? The cousin?" I asked, trying to focus on the conversation.

"Nothing. I didn't like him."

"Any reason?" I asked, knowing very well what was going to be the answer.

She shrugged, and Siya grumbled, "Leave it. I have given up. You should too."

"I never tried to begin with," I replied, and she glared at me.

"What happened with Arjun?" She asked.

"I told you we didn't want to date."

"But he said he wanted to text you."

"Well, he hasn't yet. So..." I trailed off, hoping she would get a hint and drop the topic. He was a good-looking guy, but I had no intention of imposing on someone who did not like me.

"So, we'll go to his game next week." She declared.

"What?" I laughed at her absurdity.

"Yeah, I want to go to Rudra's college. I want to show myself off. A lot of girls have been following him on insta."

I looked at Ruhi for help. "Don't look at me."

"Also, tell Dhruv not to lose his shit this time," Siya said, pulling another cookie out of her box.

"He won't."

"Abhay was there too right?" I froze at his name. "What was his problem?"

"I...don't know. But he won't be a problem."

Abhay hadn't stepped foot in the cafe for a while. I didn't even see him around the college since the last week. The team was busy practicing for their away games, one of which was with Xavier's. Dhruv mentioned that the coach was being too strict because of their last loss. He could be busy with that. I had a nagging feeling that he was avoiding me.

It hurt for some reason, but it also gave me time to make sense of the things happening around me. It was better when we didn't interact. It was good that he was not here. It was better. Yes, I needed to stay away from him for the peace of my mind. I wanted to go back to the time when everything was easier.

I picked up my phone and looked at the email.

"You're distracted today," Ruhi stated. "What are you looking at?"

"Umm...it's an email from that pottery shop. They're having another session. So they sent a Google form to see if I was interested."

Going back to that place, where he would definitely be? It was out of the question.

"Oh! Nice. You loved the last session, right? You should go." She smiled.

"I don't know. I'll think about it." It would be better if I didn't go.

"I'm glad you're trying new things. Meeting new people." A soft smile plays on Ruhi's lips.

"It's scary too," Siya's voice held vulnerability she rarely showed, and my heart sank. "I'm scared you'll find new friends and forget about us."

The words hit me harder than I expected, catching me off guard. My stomach flipped, and I almost choked on my breath.

Where was this coming from? Maybe I wasn't the only one feeling uncertain in this phase of our lives.

"Siya," I said quietly, the weight of her words sinking in. "You're not going anywhere. We're not going anywhere."

Yes, we were not going anywhere. Even if I was the one saying that to her, I felt I needed to hear those words the most. A weight seemed to be lifted off of my shoulders.

"Yes, we are not." Sia repeated with a glare that made me chuckle.

"And there's also something else going on that you're not telling us," Ruhi said with a poker face.

My hands froze. So, this was the reason for their impromptu visit. I put down the phone on the counter. "Nothing's going on."

"Ah! She's at that phase." Siya said with a sigh. "But it's fine. We'll wait till you finally decide to vomit all out to us. Or until I get tired of your bullshit and force you to spit it out."

"And don't you dare spit it out in front of your new friends before us?" Ruhi narrowed her eyes. She was scary when she wanted to be.

"I-" I didn't know what to say. Was I that distracted these days? "I literally have no friends apart from Angie."

Angie peeked outside from the backroom, "I heard my name."

"We're talking about my friendlessness." I sighed, and she went back inside after rolling her eyes.

"By the way, Dhruv and she are definitely boning," Sia said, casually picking up another cookie.

I almost choked on my spit, "SIA."

"She's cute. Too good for your loser brother." Ruhi added. Sia nodded her head in all seriousness.

"You guys are too much," I muttered, but I couldn't help but smile, the tension in my chest easing just a little. We were going to be alright.

Our conversation shifted to places to go eat after my shift, and I was left alone with my thoughts. As they kept talking, my finger hesitated a second longer, and then I hit submit before I could think twice.

𐃢𐃡𐃢𐃡

I was standing in front of the pottery shop again. I focused on the pitter-patter of the rain on my umbrella and tried to gather the courage to go inside. I clutched my tote bag to save it from the downpour, but it was too late.

Straightening my kurta again, I squashed the urge to look into my camera to see if my kajal was all right. After traveling for an hour or so, the pollution always wreaked havoc on my face. But I wasn't going to check my face. I wasn't here to impress anyone. I was here to learn pottery, even if I sucked at it.

I opened the gate, and the earthy smell of clay greeted me. The chatter of the small crowd gathered reached my ears as I tried looking for the familiar face. Sameer's smiling face greeted me. He wore a cream shirt, and his hair was in a bun, again. I had no idea how he kept his clothes without any spots while working here. Abhay's clothes were always filled with clay spots.

"Riya, I was waiting for you. Now that everyone's here, we can begin." I followed him to the group standing in front of the long bench, ready to begin the day.

Today's workshop focused on painting a decorative art piece, and a giddy feeling spread through me at the thought of picking up the paintbrush. It had been a long time since I painted something.

"Alright, everyone!" Sameer called, his voice warm but authoritative. "Today, we're moving on to something a little more personal—decorative pieces. These won't just be functional like your bowls. They're meant to be expressive, unique, and a reflection of you."

The group murmured excitedly, exchanging glances. Sameer picked up a small, smooth vase. Its surface was etched with swirling lines, painted in earthy greens and blues that seemed to ripple like water.

"This is a piece my student made last year," He said, turning it around slowly for everyone to see. "It's all about texture and color."

I wondered if it was made by Abhay. Then, I stopped myself from thinking about him and focused on Sameer's words.

Sameer sat the vase down and gestured to the array of tools kept on the wooden table. "We'll start by shaping the clay. Think about the form you want—does it reflect who you are? Once you've got the shape, we'll move on to painting and glazing. Remember, you're not limited to realistic designs. Let loose and be bold with your colors and textures. This is about creating something that speaks to you."

I glanced at the tools laid out before me and picked up a small loop tool. The cold metal felt strange but exciting. I glanced at the blank piece of clay, unsure of where to start. My eyes slid to the room in the back. Was he not here?

"You can move around. Choose a place where you would like to sit down and create your piece." Sammer announced.

I looked around for a place to sit and decided to sit in the space in front of the back room. The space had plants and a small wooden table to work on. I decided to take my clay to the place.

Sitting down on the chair, I thought of the piece I could make that would represent me. I couldn't think of anything. What represented me? Nothing came to mind, so I started kneading with the clay, hoping something would come up along the way.

My mind started thinking about the things that were happening in my life and my hands started moving on their own.

"That's an interesting piece you're making." Abhay's deep voice jolted me from my thoughts. The rhythm of my heart picked up speed, and my hands froze.

He stood in front of me, wearing a black shirt and grey sweatpants. His hair was a mess, and it suited him a lot.

He was here. Standing in front of me. Now what?

I looked down at my piece. It somewhat resembled a...flower bud. Why did I make a flower bud?

I contemplated replying to him but couldn't think of anything to say amid the drumming of my heart, so I hummed in reply and went back to my clay.

He made it so tough to understand what went through his mind most of the time. He was the one who avoided me for a week, and now he was the one starting a conversation with a blank face as if whatever I said wouldn't matter. And maybe that was true. Maybe he was here to make fun of the thing I was working on.

Why did I even need to understand him?

"Why did you choose to make it?" He asked, and I looked up to see him staring intently at my face.

I wondered what he saw.

'It would've been better if she was a bit lighter.' I tried not to think about the words my aunt spoke. I squashed it back down, forcing my mind to think about the bud in front of me.

I looked into his and spoke, "I think it represents me. Still waiting to grow."

His eyes widened as if he didn't expect me to be honest. I too didn't know why I shared it with him.

Maybe because my delusion told me that my answer would matter to him.

"Growth, huh?" He pulled a chair and sat in front of me, the table between us. "Cute."

"Ah! The art critic has spoken. My apologies that I couldn't create artsy vases like you." I replied, and he stopped fiddling with the lump of clay he was picking up. I guess he was also going to make something.

"You've seen my work?" He raised his left eyebrow.

"Yes." I looked back at my piece and picked up another tool.

"How is it?" He asked, and I blinked.

He wanted my opinion. Was he okay?

"You need the opinion of a person you've been avoiding all week?" Just as the question left my mouth, I cringed. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? I wanted to scream into my pillow but kept my face devoid of any feeling. Or at least, I tried to.

He stared at my face for a while then, his lips curled into an amused smile that made me want to crawl under a rock and die.

"Why would I avoid you?" He asked. His eyes held a challenge. Daring me to speak of the night. But I wasn't going to mention that.

"Good point," I mumbled then, went back to scraping the clay off from the stem of my flower.

He was silent for a moment before he spoke, "I'm suspended...for a week."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Why?"

He seemed amused at my question, "You think I can get out easily if I beat the shit out of a guy?"

A slow panic spread through me. How could've I forgotten about the incident? The same incident that cleared all the doubts in my mind and reminded me of my stupidity. And right now, I was repeating that stupidity, wasn't I? Coming here was a mistake.

Even with the storm going on inside me, I felt myself asking, "But you did get out easily earlier."

"Ah! Like that day when our precious little miss Savior decided to get in a fight and save her brother." He smirked. Then, as if he sobered up, replied. "I couldn't get out of this one."

"I guess no matter how much power one has, actions have consequences," I replied.

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