I practically rummaged in my closet for 2 whole hours, reaching no decision when Rimi came to call me down for breakfast.

"Are you going somewhere, di?" she asked, staring at the clothes strewn over the bed and chair.

I never felt the need to lie to Rimi before. But she was extremely close to her mother (my paternal aunt), and I had a fear that she might unwittingly let something slip.

"Yeah, we have a meet with our 10th grade batch today," I said. "We've booked a bus to go to the next town...I may be back late."

"Oh," said Rimi unsuspectingly. "You're lucky you're in college...I just have to study all day long nowadays," she said as we walked down together.

"I know, sis," I said sympathetically. I had never aspired for engineering/medical college but I had seen how hard Abhi used to work in 11th and 12th grade. "But only one more year to go, then you'll be settled somewhere better than I am and have heaps of fun."

It did not appear I had managed to cheer her up at all, because there was still that air of gloom around her.

"Good morning, Isha," greeted my uncle.

Yes, my family nickname is Isha. [See the last 4 letters of my name. That's the root].

"Good morning," I said to the table in general.

Our family is, overall, a happy and amiable one. My father and my uncle both work for a freelancing ad agency. Well, they had practically started the agency with a few of their batchmates after passing out from college. It might not be a very big name in the advertising world, but it definitely had its own place. Our financial position had improved a lot from the time I was in junior school. My mother is a housewife, but Rimi's mom is a teacher of English in a neighbouring school.

We live together in good harmony. My parents love Rimi, and her parents love me too. Rimi and I had grown up just like siblings, and I had a strong protective instinct working whenever it came to her.

I remember a time in high school when Rimi had broken her ankle in the playground one day. A group of girls in her class had given her a nickname which I don't even remember today, but it was quite offensive. I had gone to their class during the recess with all my friends and cornered them and Dhruv and Abhi had threatened them so bad that they had never messed with my sister again.

Rimi looks up to me a lot. Though I have messed up as an elder sister lot of times, (like when I used to feel jealous of all the attention she received, being the baby of the family), I think I have done a good job overall.

It felt good to be back home again. Hostel could never quite take the place of home.

My mom had made pancakes for breakfast. I devoured them in little time, and broached the topic of my hypothetical batch-meet that day. My dad asked a few questions about who will be joining; since I had come prepared, I answered them all confidently enough.

I made a mental note to message Neeti as soon as I go back upstairs to validate the story in case anyone asked her. Not that my family was a super-suspicious kind...but it's better to be on the safer side nevertheless.

Few minutes later, as I was messaging Neeti, a message from Abhi came.

'Meet today @Navin park?' it said.

For a moment I felt so happy that I forgot everything else. Abhi was trying to bring our friendship back. Navin park had been our favourite destination right since childhood.

But Navin park swiftly reminded me of Shubman, which was not surprising since we had gone there just yesterday.

Shit. Why did he have to choose today?

I had already booked an express ticket online, and I couldn't back out on Shubman now, could I?

And yet I could not bear the thought of refusing Abhi either. After some deliberation, I concluded that I will surely be back before sundown, if only for safety issues.

'Today evening,' I replied with a smiley emoji. 

His reply came almost instantaneously. 'Sure!'

I smiled as I kept my phone aside. My eyes fell on a dark green top that Abhi had once said looked pretty on me. Somehow my mind got made up then, and I got ready quickly, and left, and then ended up reaching the station a whole hour early, I was so excited to leave.

********

There was no untoward incident that day, of course, because it was a busy hour and my compartment was full. 

I called Shubman when I started to get too bored.

"Boarded?" he asked.

"Long back. Reaching Mohali in one hour and fifteen minutes."

"Great!" he said, and I was satisfied to hear that he sounded about as excited as I felt.

"Hey, how do I reach your house from Mohali?" I asked.

"Take a pre-paid taxi. I'm forwarding my address," he said promptly. "And bye, I have to go now."

"Why?" I grumbled.

"Huge preparations going on here, mom will kill me!"

"Ok, go, go," I said, because he sounded quite harried.

The train pulled into the Mohali station right on time. 

Platform 7 again. I tried to push back the traumatic memory rising inside me.

Nothing is going to happen, I told myself again and again.

As I soon discovered, I was wrong in thinking that.