07 Mission objectives.

"Hmm... yeah, okay... amma!" I groaned as I pressed the phone close to my ear, as if the guys who were passing by could hear her talking. "Shh, amma. Quit it!"

I was filled to the neck with exasperation as my mother advised. I have been managing very well here for three months and I didn't think this advising spree was needed.

"You can return home, you know..." amma said slowly, obviously sulking.

"We are not having this conversation, okay?" I snapped. I heard my mother reply something before there was a muffled shuffling sound and hushed whispers. I sighed as I cast my eyes across the courtyard. I came running after the bell rang to call home so that I didn't have to talk in front of the other guys. But my amma had dragged the phone call so long that the guys were starting to return. I gave a fake casual smile and a single wave to some of the guys who passed the courtyard to enter the dorm building.

"Uthra," a voice, that used to be once forever calm but now always seemed stressed out, said.

"Appa?" It came out more like a question. I hadn't talked to my father much after I switched schools. To be precise, I hadn't talked at all. Amma said he was filled with guilt to the core and that he couldn't find the courage to talk to be after sending me to an all-boys school.

"H—how are you?" He sounded breathy and suddenly my throat felt swollen.

Princess...

Was that old calm voice forever gone?

"I'm great, pa," I said, and a single tear rolled down my right cheek. I turned away so that I wasn't facing the courtyard or the incoming guys and wiped the tear away. God, I hadn't realised how much I missed him.

"I miss you, princess," he whispered, and my throat choked. Don't get me wrong. I loved my mother very much and she was a darling. But I was always a daddy's girl.

"I miss you more, appa," I whispered in my own voice, not the fake deep voice I put on here. My real, girl voice.

"Then..." he struggled with his words. "Then, why don't you return...?"

My hand froze on the earpiece, and if it wasn't for the fact that I was leaning on the nearby booth, I would've fallen. I stomped my weak knees on the ground forcefully so that I wouldn't fall. Hearing my amma say that was... just different. She said that knowing very well I wouldn't come home without making Rohan normal. But hearing my appa say it— god, there was so much hope and longing in it. And also one more thing: surety.

He was sure his little girl would come at once if he called. I would... if I hadn't come to know Rohan. He needed me. And—and I needed him too. He was my best friend.

"Appa..." The word dragged out of me as I tried to swallow. My throat was clamping and hurting while my heart was clawing at itself. There was silence on the other end. Finally, I heard a crack on the line, and a sigh.

"You don't want to come."

It wasn't a question. "It's— appa, it's not like that. He... he needs me, pa." I sounded frantic. I heard teeth being gritted. I blinked back the tears. The bankruptcy took many things from my dad. But it also brought many things to him. Restlessness, a temper, and I didn't know what else.

"That kid isn't an infant! He can manage!" he shouted, and I heard my amma mumble something to him. He wasn't the father I loved. Not anymore. He had changed. I knew that he was asking me to return since he felt this place was unsafe for me. And of course it was a hundred percent unsafe. Yet the father I knew would never ever talk about someone he didn't know personally this harshly.

"You don't know," I said angrily, my girl voice on display.

I glanced around to see whether anyone was in hearing distance. There was no one, excluding the guys who were still returning from school.

"What?"

He sounded disbelieving.

"You. Don't. Know." I didn't care that I sounded angry and disrespectful. Rohan was someone close to me and I didn't think I could stand anyone talking about him like that. Not even my father.

"I don't know what?" he asked, his voice strained with anger. He had never sounded this angry in his life. Not even when he had broken the bankruptcy news to me.

"That he can manage!" I shouted.

Good thing the courtyard was empty by now.

He gasped, as if he couldn't believe my reply. I waited for him to say something, and after what seemed like ages, he took a quick breath. "You should be home right after he starts making friends. I repeat, right after!"

"Arun..." I heard my amma say, trying to be soothing.

"This is ridiculous!" He hissed before I could release my relieved sigh, and hearing the angry hiss, the sigh stuck in my throat. I didn't know whether it was meant for me or my amma. But I kept quiet. More than remaining quiet, it was like the words were sucked out of my mouth. I'd never heard my father sound this frustrated, and I didn't know how to react.

"A seventeen-year-old guy who can't be social!" he scoffed. "This is a complete joke." My hands gripped the earpiece as I bit my lips, trying not to say something really mean back to my father. "There are many socially awkward children in this world. But they don't need a girl to dress up as a boy and share a room with them." His tone was heavily coated with incredulity and the one hand that had the earpiece in a death grip moved to clamp over my mouth. The anger in me was too suffocating and I clamped my mouth closed even harder to prevent the words that were forming in my mind from spilling out.

"Maybe—maybe he is mentally retarded! That's why my daught—"

Crash! I’d slammed the earpiece so hard onto the stand that the upper part of it had cracked. Tiny pieces flew from the earpiece because of the intensity. If I thought the anger in me previously was suffocating, this anger was molten lava hot. It literally felt like my blood was boiling and my eyes felt clouded.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't find any other way to let my anger go. I shook my head to clear some of the anger away and decided to go back to my room. At least I could quell this anger in the bathroom with a cold shower. The familiar 236 on the door welcomed me as I trudged along the corridor. I wiped my face with my sweaty hands and tried to look normal as I opened the door.

"Welcome home." I looked to my left, where the voice had come from. Rohan was standing near his bed, his suitcase on the bed. He was folding his laundered clothes.

His beautiful black hair fell on his forehead and he tried to brush it off as he smiled at me. His black eyes were sparkling with a sort of affection and his lips were stretched into his usual shy smile. A single dimple on his left cheek, which I didn't even knew existed before the welcome party, was in place. He looked like a little child welcoming his parent.

Maybe he is retarded!

He's just an introvert, dad.

And before I knew it, I had crossed the two feet between us and engulfed him in a hug. I, Uthra Parthiban, was hugging a guy. But I didn't freaking care! Rohan's body stiffened at my touch and his arms laid limp beside his body. He wasn't hugging me back, but I didn't care. I tightened my hands around him. After a while I realised that I was patting his back.

"Uthra?" His sweet, mellow voice called to me. "You okay?" I tried to reply and that's when I realised I was crying and my throat felt blocked. I cleared my throat and with all might, I talked in my guy voice.

"I'm okay," I said, laughing, though it sounded like a frog was coughing. I loosened my hands around him until they completely fell off him. Trying to act casual, I stepped back. Rohan's face was a complete mask of worry as his black eyes ran all over my face. He looked completely lost as he stood there simply staring back. And I couldn't help but laugh. "I talked to my family and suddenly I was super homesick," I lied as I wiped my face. Lying had become a habit by now.

He still stood there, opening and closing his mouth, not knowing what to say. And my eyes pricked with tears once again. He didn't even know how to console a friend. And to say it was heartbreaking would be an understatement. It was sad to indescribable levels.

Taking a quick breath to stop the tears, I continued. "Since I was so homesick, I ended up hugging you. You know, for comfort." And the way he looked at me like a lost puppy, cooled my anger to a controllable point.

"You're really the personification of comfort and assurance, kid," I said sarcastically, though it was meant lightheartededly. "Your wife is a poor soul if you are going to stand like a pole when she’s crying," I said jokingly as I punched his stomach.

He looked guilty, so I flashed a reassuring grin.

"If you don't want her to file for divorce.." I dragged playfully, "...start talking, like a human."

"Of course I talk!" Rohan said defensively, and I rolled my eyes.

"Only to me," I said, folding my hands across my chest. He snorted and I was so surprised. Wow. Rohan had improved.

"Don't think too highly of yourself," he said, "I talk to others too."

"Rohit does not count," I said laughing, "I introduced him to you." I gave him a challenging look and his shoulders slumped.

"So?" he asked, defeated, and my grin widened.

"So we are going to make you behave confidently without this awkwardness and shyness. Okay?" Rohan looked unsure and glanced at his bed, as if this was a life-changing, huge decision.

But as crazy and stupid as it sounds, it was life-changing for him.

In my checklist for Rohan, making him talk to others was finished and so I had mentally crossed it off. He now made tiny conversations with others and even talked voluntarily if it was necessary. The next point was to grow his confidence. And I couldn’t do that if he wasn't willing. I waited patiently and at last Rohan raised his head.

"I'm actually tired of everyone viewing me as if I'm a weirdo. Screw it! I want to show others I'm normal, too," he said fiercely. I smiled.

"So?"

"I'm ready," he said. My smile grew brighter. Rohan wanted to change so everyone would see him as normal. All I wanted was to make my father eat his words.

Sorry pa. I still love you. But I'm angry. And I'm damn glad you made me angry because I sure as hell will change things. Pretty soon. You just wait, appa.