If it were meant to be…

I grabbed a bunch of my besties and arrived at the most awaited event of the year- our annual college festival.

The crowd was massive.
The rule was simple.
If we get lost, we meet where we are right now: the basketball court.

The events were interesting, and scattered across the campus.
Getting lost was inevitable.

Young. Reckless. Carefree. Impulsive.
I let this side of me take over.

Self-defence. Dream Analysis. Salsa.
Workshops that caught my attention and drew me into those classrooms.

I decided to search for my friends later. I wanted to enjoy these moments all by myself.

A blue-eyed boy – shy, soft-spoken and fragile; was assigned to me in the self defence class.

I was eager to learn. Aggressive. Pushy. And kept asking for all the demos to be conducted on him… so that I could learn better. I laughed at his plight. He threw daggers my way- playful ones. He enjoyed the attention we were getting too.

Before we knew it, the workshop was over. We stood outside the class, wondering what to do next. He grabbed my hand and led me to another classroom.

Salsa.
I always wanted to learn salsa.

We were warming up for the session when he leaned in and whispered softly in my ears, “by the way, I have a black belt in Karate”

I turned red, unable to fathom how he played me.

It was his turn to lead.
With a wry smile, he coaxed me onto the floor, and I enjoyed the warmth of his arms for the next 45 minutes… amazed at this conniving yet charming blue-eyed boy.

The session concluded.
We walked out, silently.

My friends were so relieved to find me, they closed in on me, asking me a billion questions about my disappearance.

I saw him walking away.
He turned one last time, and smiled at me. That impish smile I’d grown to recognise.
There were so many things I wanted to say to him.
So many things I wanted to know about him.

Damn, how could we forget to exchange numbers?

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