New year, new me. I knew exactly what I was going to do this year. First was not bludgeoning myself to forget about the events of last year because the more that I focused on forgetting, I was remembering it with the same turbulence. Second was to come clean with Jazz and reclaim her as my friend before it was too late (or before she was so glued to her other friends that I couldn't rip her apart from them). Third was, despite losing my first love and best friend, getting beaten up six months later on a date and finding out that my sister had an illicit affair with my first love's father, I would try to remain sane. Try was the key word.

I had an epiphany on 31st December when my father had bought home a Blackforest cake to cut at 12 am and my mother had looked at Pavitra and validly asked about what was left to celebrate (plus our new year was actually Gudi Padwa which was on 2nd April). My dad who was dressed in a white undershirt with tiny holes in them, shrugged, raised the knife at the cake and said, "Just."

Just. It coincided with the philosophy of Lila of living through life like a breeze, going wherever we wanted, doing whatever we wanted, but most importantly, touching other people's lives and making them feel good too. I didn't have many people to entertain, but I could be a comfort to the ones that I had already. Except Pavitra, I could never bring myself to forgive her.

"Bye-bye, see you tomorrow in history!" shouted Shreya and I smiled at her, watching her disappear at the end of the corridor. She was one of the friends that I spontaneously made in class. There were at least ten other Shreya in our class and I had saved her from the embarrassment of saying present at the wrong Shreya in the roll call for which she jokingly expressed her gratitude every day. But our friendship terminated when our shared lectures did and I was okay with that. There was no one way of being friends.

It was the first day of this year in college, yet I couldn't find Jaspreet, the ever-popular Jazz who was probably surrounded by groups of people like bees swarming around their hive. She was like their hive where they would bring their misery and store it in her, their secrets sticky and messy just like honey. She listened to all their problems and affairs with eagerness and seldom did they listen to her. Yet she seemed to be happy doing that, preferring them over her GPA.

With that thought in mind, I was going to leave college and head home, but I saw her face at the back of the canteen. She was sitting alone at the unclean table and pretended to scroll through her phone, pretended because of the numerous times she looked up and inspected her surroundings awkwardly. The bees had left their hive in search for the attractive flowers. Jazz's face flushed in embarrassment, I could see the faint crimson colour rising in her sandalwood skin when she spotted me approaching her.

"Hey, what's up," I said lightly, pretending like we had been good friends these past months and nothing was wrong with us.

Jazz didn't seem to mind my pretense since she had been so engrossed in her own. "Nothing much. I'm waiting for some of my friends. They'll be here soon." Suddenly, she sighed, letting out all her inhibitions and her head collapsing on the table where remnants of bhel were still scattered. Her voice was muffled, but I could hear her speak, "Can I be frank with you?" Before I could respond, she continued, "Those people can get too much at times." She raised her head, her hands waving dismissively at what she had just confessed. "No, no, don't get me wrong. They're nice people. It's just that- they keep unloading their burdens on me and expect me to not tell others. How long can I keep all their secrets? "

Well, this was perfect, I could never come out to her. Ever.

"You can set boundaries if you don't want them to do that," I said, my voice was so small and pathetic that I laughed dryly on the inside.

"I don't want to set any boundaries as such. I like listening to their secrets from time to time. But give me something spicy, you know?" She said and I felt myself getting cheery again. My secret was a hundred percent hot topic. "I'm tired of them coming to me and telling me that they're bisexuals and attracted to so and so. Literally, everyone in this Sobo college claims to be bi in front of their friends to look cool. One of these days, even I might hop on this trend."

"Trend?" I couldn't keep the indignation out of my voice as I burst out. "I'm sure their feelings are more valid than that." I didn't know why I was standing up for the people whom I was skeptical of, still, I couldn't calm down.

"I knowwwwwwww, I was joking," she said irritatedly. "It's just their gossip isn't spicy enough. They're all so fickle, jumping from one boy to another and when that doesn't work out, they claim to like girls. I don't have any problem with that by the way." But the way she said it, it seemed like she did have a problem with it. This was wrong timing, yet I was more determined than ever to drop the bomb of my sexuality upon her. Gone was my need to make amends with her. Instead, I felt the strongest urge to lecture her.

"I'm bisexual too," I said, my voice faltering as I looked at her bewildered face. Abort mission! Abort mission! "I was in love with uh Lila, not Anthony. That trip to Tarkali- those things I told you . . . I did them with her . . . "

It was the cracks in my voice more than my words which made her believe me like the cracks in an old lady's face which would make anyone believe in her experience. Still, she didn't utter a word. Why? What was she thinking? Was she more repulsed by me? I gazed hard at her round face which was framed by the blonde highlights of her hair, some bhel clinging to the strands. Then, the earlier crimson colour came rushing to her face, her face which began crumpling and tears spilled out of her eyes as if someone had squeezed her heart with all their strength. It was all so sudden and unexpected that I was stupefied as if she had come out to me and not the other way around.

"Why didn't you tell me before? Why did you lie to me?" she cried out, her voice filled with snot and tears and everyone around us looked at her, but she didn't care. "Did you think I was homophobic? Am I not a good friend to you? Do you not trust me?"

Quickly, I pulled the chair next to her and said with the gentleness of a mother, "It's not that. You're the first person I told this to. I haven't told this to anyone. Nobody knows except for Lila's parents."

"Really?" Her cries were reduced to sniffles as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks with her fingers. "Isn't Lila in US? This must be difficult for you then. You both were best friends and now, without her . . . "

Her words pinched me, those words of empathy which I had longed to hear suddenly felt like a burden and reminded me of what I had endured silently.

"I'm fine now. It's over," I lied and it was my voice that betrayed me again. "Anyway, what's up with you?"

"Oh, you're not going to change the topic!" Her black eyes were blazing with that tenacity of hers (which intimidated me). "You clearly look like you haven't moved on. Do you want me to set you up with anyone? Actually, no. You don't get along with them anyway. Have you tried dating apps? Bumble? Cupid? Tinder?"

I remembered how that had gone, with me being beaten up by Aastha's brother, then her repeatedly texting, more for pleading to not report her brother to the police and less for apologizing to clear her guilt. In my fit of anger, I didn't reply at all and let her keep guessing my next move. A laugh escaped my lips at that memory as I said, "Didn't have much luck there. But don't worry, I'm not looking to date anyone now."

"How will you move on?" Her eyes darted from me to the people around, then she leaned clandestinely towards me from across the table, the bhel falling on the floor. "How did it begin though? You and that Lila? In school?" Before I could tell her that it was a long story, she added, "I knew things were weird between you two. Even in school. They way you looked at her was so different from the way you looked at me, for example."

"Let's not talk about that---"

"Oh and remember the time when we all had gone to the field trip and while coming home, Lila had fallen asleep on your shoulder. Oh my God, I remember now! I remember how stiff you became as if someone had shoved an electric pole up your---" It was my sharp look that made her stop rambling. I couldn't help, but smile at the memory of Lila who had sang songs and danced all the way. She had been singing even in her sleep with her soft head on my shoulder, some trending pop song. What was it?

I let out a frustrated breath. "See, this is what will not help me move on. It's been nine months and I'm doing okay now, as long as you don't dig old graves."

"Got it," she said soberly, but soon her legs began bouncing in excitement and for a second, I thought that she wanted to use the bathroom. "This is good news, what you just told me! Everything makes sense, you ignoring me, you lying---"

"I'm honestly sorry."

"---you avoiding meeting me. It was this! This!" She exclaimed over and over again and I could see her replaying the past over and over again. Suddenly, she bolted out of her chair and embraced me, her body dancing all the time. "This is so exciting! I mean, I'm sorry that she's no longer here, but this is so great! Oh wait, am I turning you on now? Is that offensive to ask?"

"None taken . . . " I laughingly pulled away from her, feeling a warmth spread in my stomach at her words. This is great. Did she mean that? Was me being different great? Great like kings and queens. I didn't have to ask her to refute my doubts because all I needed was to look into that round face and see the sincere joy that made all her features sharp, animated and come alive like the blossoming of flowers after the touch of the first rays of the sun.

* * *

Glossary :

Bhel- snack comprising puffed rice and veggies.

Sobo- South Bombay.