The First Life of Vikram Roy (Many Lives Series Book 3) (10 page)

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I swear.
 

My heart is beating so hard it threatens to leap out of my chest. I look up to the door and am relieved to find there's no sign of the leopard. Ash's body is shaking below mine. Her heart, too, is thumping hard, slamming against me. I can't tell where her pulse stops and mine begins.
 

"Goddammit, Ash!" I look down; worried she is having a seizure, or worse. Her face is scrunched up.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" My voice comes out all high-pitched.

"Yes. No," her voice quivers in reply. She opens her eyes finally and I realise she is laughing, silently. At me.
Again.

Something snaps inside of me and I know there is no turning back. Not today.

"That was a-a—"

"Leopard," I say
 

"Gho-st?" she asks at the same time.

"Yeah, that's our ghost," I say, nodding.
 

I want to stay angry with her, but the sparks in her eyes draw me in completely.

Her skin scrapes across mine. Her dress is around her waist and one of my legs is between hers. My thigh brushes against her frock-covered midriff. The heat rushes at me through the cloth. I am surrounded by her smell. Awareness comes into her eyes at the same time. Her laughter dies and the blue of her eyes dart fire at me.
 

"Don't go falling in love with me now." She tilts her head up.

 
Her lips are curved. I want to taste them, slant my lips across her mouth. Bending down, I touch my lips to hers. Her breath tastes like oranges. And chocolate. She flings her arms around me and rams my body to her's with fierce strength. It feels as if she's vibrating, as if the shudders are running up her body and down mine. Leopards are my favourite animals from now on.

SIXTEEN

I haven't seen Ash since our "ghostly" trip to Gap 50. She's avoiding me. Is she embarrassed by what happened? It had been so special that day. Had felt so good. I have to see her and tell her how I feel. I rush to our weekly cricket practice venue and get there early, hoping she comes before the others.
 

It's just coming into summer in March and the weather's really pleasant at 5pm. I stand in the clearing, breathing in the bubbles of freshness into my lungs. Every time I go back to Bombay, the city air tastes brown … dirty in comparison.
 

Soon, it will be the end of this year too. And then … then only two more years till I graduate. Strange, when you realise time is limited, it gives you an urgency you never had before.

Where is Ash? I look at my watch. Look up. There she is, walking towards me. She looks at me, past me. Is she avoiding me?
 

"Ash—" I call out to her. Pain explodes in my legs and I cry out, falling to the ground. What the—? What was that? What hit me? I can barely move my leg. Is it broken? Clutching it, I manage to roll onto my back. Amar's holding a cricket bat in his hand.

"You moved in on my girl?" He bites out the words, muscles taut with anger. Eyes wide, nostrils flaring. The rage bounces off him.

I take a deep breath and try not to groan as the agony sends white sparks shooting up my side. I am not going to show how much it really hurts.
 

"She's not your girlfriend," I say.
 

My voice is calm. Eyes steady, I meet his gaze. Hold it. It only makes him angrier. Face contorted, he is sweating as if he has run all the way from the school grounds. He raises his bat again and I hold up my hands to protect my face.
 

"Amar! DON'T!" Ash runs up, and jumping up, hangs off his left biceps, trying to hold him back.
 

Compared to Amar's six-feet-two-inch bulked-up frame, she seems small and petite. Frail. He shakes her off and she flies to the side, falling with a thump.
 

"Ash!" My own pain forgotten, I am on my feet and running to help her.

To my surprise she holds up her hands as if to ward me off. "Go away, Vik, really. You don't want to be here when he is this angry."

"Why not? I can protect myself."
 

"Yeah, right. You?" She laughs and I realise she is being serious.
 

She really sees me as no match for Amar.
 

A cold fury runs through me. It's as if molten steel is pouring through my veins. My features harden and I look at her with narrowed eyes. Without a word, I turn and hold up my arms ready to fight.
 

Amar needs no further invitation and rushes at me with the cricket bat again. I step aside. He trips over Ash's feet and goes sprawling face down, losing his bat in the process.

"Ow!" Ash withdraws her feet in haste.

"Get out of here, Ash," I say without looking at her, focussing on the still figure on the ground. Amar stirs and rolls over on his back. His face is as muddy as mine. He bares his teeth, hissing in anger, and gets back on his feet. This time I make the first move. Jump him. We go down in a tangle of arms and legs. I make sure he cushions my fall. I grip his waist with my legs and proceed to hit him with my fists. And again. Once more. I raise my fist a third time and am pulled back from him, hauled to my feet by one of the teachers. At least he's bleeding from his lips. His shirt is torn. One of his eyes is almost shut. I managed to get a few in, didn't I?

Ash drops down beside him and cradles Amar in her lap. "Poor baby … I am so sorry I made you jealous."

All the fight goes out of me.
 

"Ash," I whisper her name.

She continues whispering softly to the wounded Amar.

"Ashley!"
 

She looks at me when I raise my voice. "WHAT?"

"What are you doing, Ashley?"

"Just because we slept together doesn't mean you own me, okay? Besides, I was only doing it to make Amar jealous."
 

"That's not true!" She can't mean it. I can barely breathe now. It's as if my heart stops for a second. The world around me fades. Then I gasp, force myself to take a deep breath, and it rights itself again.
 

Nothing is going to be right ever again.

Amar pushes her aside and gets to his feet, swaying. "Didn't you hear her? Keep away from us, okay?"

"Enough!"
 

We turn to see the dorm mother arrive. She takes in the scene in one glance and reprimands us.
 

"Go, get yourself to the clinic, Amar, get those wounds looked at." Turning to me, she says. "And you? Vikram? I didn't expect this of you."

I hate it when she says that, and in that tone of a voice. Boring Vikram. Studious Vikram. Getting into a fight over a girl? How could you, Vikram?

"Detention it is for you," she scolds.

"What?" I only half protest. "He started it." I hang my head. Pretend I regret my actions. Right now I don't care if I am grounded. I'm just happy I got my hands on Amar.

"Oh! He's not escaping either," she says, voice grim. She's smiling as if enjoying a private joke.

"What do you mean?" I look from her to Amar, staring daggers at me. Ash is still clinging to him as if he is going to die any moment.
 

"Don't give him the same detention as me," I plead. But, of course, once more I have no say in this matter. Grown-ups can be bloody vindictive.
 

***

And so I spend the last month of grade ten scraping chewing gum off the underside of tables and chairs and bannisters and floors—with my now worst enemy, Amar.

We keep out of each other's way though. Good thing too. The way I feel right now, I just need an excuse to fight him. If only I could get my hands on him. Anger swells inside me, and I force myself to stay calm. It's the first time in my life I feel so helpless. Did Ash really choose him over me? What does she see in him anyway? And all along I thought … What? That she loved me? She did tell me not to fall in love with her, didn't she? I'm sure she did like me a little. But none of that is going to help me. Not now. Not when I am stuck trying to prise off yet another piece of gum stuck to my sneakers.
 

Tenzin was right. Girls can come and go, but we boys must stick together. Amar and I got into a fight over Ash, and here we are paying for it. While she …? She wanders around the school, free.

I am now so intimately associated with various blobs of gum in all shapes and form that I even dream of chewing gum in my sleep.
 

I swear I'll never chew gum
 

Or ever crush on someone else's girlfriend.

Or ever fall so hard for any girl again.
 

Famous last words
.
 

What I don't know is that when a certain other angry young girl comes into my life, she is going to turn it upside down in a way I cannot even imagine now. But I have a little more growing up to do before that.

SIXTEEN

Stumbling across Tenzin right in the middle of the Korean vs Bhutanese gang clash left me wondering if I know my roomie at all. Is he the angry Tenzin I saw that day, ready to beat up another boy? The chilled-out Ten
zen
who likes to spend days in a stoned-out haze? Or this Tenzin—the guitar stringing rock star that all the girls love?
 

Is he all three?

Guess I'll never know.

Since I came back from my summer holidays, we've been tiptoeing around each other. We share the same room, but that's about it. It's a bit tiring this … and difficult to pretend the other person doesn't exist when that person is your roomie and forever in your face.

I left home and all its problems, only to come back to a sullen flatmate. It's as if the usual tension and drama between Mum and Dad is now playing out between Tenzin and me. No, I don't like this at all. I have to make peace with him. I want my friend back. I want things to go back to the way they were.
 

So, when he invites me to watch him perform with his new rock band, I jump at it. I accept his peace offering and go along with him to where his band is playing at a local pub. It's not really a pub. More like a hole-in-the-wall bar. It serves cheap booze and is popular with backpacking tourists and the students. It's the only venue in this little town where aspiring bands can jam.

It's packed when I walk in. Students—mostly girls—pack the small tables. Others mill around in the corners. I shuffle into position at the back of the small room. The band,
Messengers of Death,
(how original!), are already into the second song of their set. The four boys and one girl wear ripped skinny jeans, chains, cut-off T-shirts, and long hair. They look exotic, mean, and just a little bit dangerous. Tenzin's on the guitar, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes are closed and he continuously strums the guitar. He seems in his own world.
 

He
is
in his own world, for his guitar grooves at a completely different pitch. The drummer doesn't keep pace and the vocalist—the girl— can barely be heard over the noise. Five minutes in and I can't stand this assault on my ears anymore. Not that it matters. The girls are here just to mooch over the boys and the backpackers are too busy getting tanked up on the cheap alcohol. The band on stage is just background noise.

I buy myself a beer—no problem getting served here even if you are underage. And I wait there. I wish I smoked or something. Anything to keep my other hand occupied. I push it into my pocket and take a gulp of the beer. It's stale and flat and warm. Tastes like piss, not that I have tasted piss in my life ... but it's really bad. I can't drink this. I look around and notice a couple in the far corner. They're kissing.

The boy's tall, and shape of his shoulders looks familiar. He moves a little, and long brown-blonde hair peeks out. She drops her hands from around his neck, and they turn so I see her face. Ash. And Amar.
 

I want to turn and leave. Instead I stay and sip the stale beer, not even noticing the taste this time.
 

She leans up on tiptoe and kisses him. The kiss goes on, and on. Do they know I am watching? Is it all for me? He wraps a hand around her waist, shoves his hand under the back of the T-shirt, and half lifts her up. They break apart, and she looks past him, around him, and straight at me.
 

I don't look away. I just hold her eyes. Raise my beer glass at her. She flushes and drops her eyes. She whispers something to Amar, who turns around and looks at me. His eyebrows drop down to meet in the centre of his forehead. He frowns, takes a step forward and is stopped by her. She whispers to him again. Then she walks past him, towards me. Amar follows her with his eyes, but he doesn't move.
 

"Vikram," She says, unsmiling.
 

"Ashley." I nod and gulp more beer. I look past her. Look at the stage and take a deep breath. Mixed with the cigarette smoke, wet carpet, and unwashed human bodies is a faint whiff of oranges and chocolate. My stomach tightens with desire. Damn, I still want her. I grip the glass tighter, so the plastic cup crumples a little. I look at her properly, meet her eyes now.
 

"Well? What do you want?" My voice comes out low, harsh. But I sound controlled. Good.
 

"I'm sorry Vik," she says

That floors me. It's the last thing I expected her to say. Not sure what to say next, I look down into my glass, but I don't say anything.

"Look at me." Her voice is soft, caressing. I can barely hear the words above the clanging of the music. I want to hate her, but can't. I'm still half in love with her. I stare into those deep pools of blue. Her long brown eyelashes.

"Didn't mean to hurt you, you know," she adds.

"But you did." I say it in a quiet voice.
 

My insides are churning. I want to yell at her. Shout. Ask her why she prefers him to me. I will not show any of it. Instead, I look for the ice inside me. Pull it over my eyes. My face. So she can't see what she is doing to me.
 

"I was confused, you know," she pleads. Her tongue flicks out, touches her lips. "I really like you," she says.