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Nerdy love

I saw him everyday sitting on the first bench in the class, drinking in every word said by the professor. Even the super soporific power of the most boring of teachers couldn’t make him yawn. He was 6’1. He wore heavily magnified glasses which totally ruined the beauty of his honey brown eyes. He had a lanky profile. His walk always made it seem as if he was about to fall. He always carried the same boring black bag which was always in danger of tearing off due to the dozen books which were crammed into it. Checked shirt was the only kind of clothing he wore. His awesomely curly hair was always greased up with loads of hair oil. He was a nerd. And I was totally head over heals for this guy.

What was it that attracted me towards him?
Well, that’s a mystery to me too. 

He was a very coy and quiet guy. Everyone teased him, called him words, he didn’t once retaliate.
But did it hurt him?

I had once seen him come out of the men’s room all puffy-eyed and his nose was a nasty shade of tomato. I just couldn’t resist myself and went to him and asked if he was alright. Not having much experience in matters relating to guys and also because I had this big thing for him, I blushed. My face heated up and I’m dead sure it had gone scarlet. But instead of replying, he looked at me with confusion and wild fear in his red, swollen eyes. the intensity of his honey brown eyes, if nothing, made me blush even harder and turned my legs to jelly. He kept staring at me with those confused and fearfull eyes for at least a whole minute before stalking away without a single word.

I should have given up that time. I had approached him in front of all my class and he had run away without further ado. Not to mention, the taunting and teasing that followed later. I should have run away from him and never looked back at him again. No, I should have learnt all the swear words I could and should have spat them all at him at once. Or perhaps, I should just have given up.

But I was foolish enough or maybe it was just him, that I couldn’t help throwing a very pronounced and obvious glance at his direction every time I entered the class. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him through all the lectures. I couldn’t help going up to him and trying to chat with him on the pretense of asking for notes. I couldn’t help following him to the library and sitting there for hours doing nothing but ogling at him stupidly. Even though he considered me as nothing but thin, invisible air, I couldn’t help but let my helplessness overpower me and make me be swept over by his charismatic, nerdy beauty.

The bell rang for the submission of the last exam of the term after which we would both go our different ways and never look back at each other ever again. This was my last time to do something, if there was anything to be done for that matter.

I approached him again. He seemed very happy about something. He was ticking off something on his question paper; each tick punctuated with his whoop. He looked so cute at that time, that you just call me a superwoman to resist myself from going to him and kissing him then and there.

He saw me coming and his face was immediately replaced with an expression of fear he had once worn. But he didn’t go away. That automatically increased my confidence. I finally reached him and stood there in front of him expectantly as if he was the one who had called me and I was waiting for him to say whatever he wanted to. We stood there like that for what felt like an eternity. And then, much to my surprise, he removed this small note from his bag and gave it to me and very slowly and carefully, after measuring my expression and assuming a positive response from me, he hugged me.

And then, he went away, leaving me rooted to the spot, gobsmacked. After recovering myself from the shock (which took another eternity), I opened his note. He had written just three words –

                                         I am “chealsea-fan”

There was this unknown someone whom I have been chatting with since a whole year – "chelsea-fan". He was my chat friend. We hadn’t seen each other ever. But we shared everything with each other. All our feelings, dreams, desires, ambitions, likes, dislikes, insecurities. Everything.

You can only guess how happy I was on reading that tiny note.
Butterflies had started fluttering in my stomach. My eyes were sweating tears like a leaking faucet. I felt like I had just been to heaven and back. It was him all along. He was “chealsea-fan”. He loved me too.

My joy knew no bounds.


MangoMan/Bunty said…
If its fiction, its amazingly well written to capture the reader's attention throughout.

If its not, GOSH!

Bollywood scriptwriters, ahoy!
Jitika Jain said…
it is real-life inspired fiction!!!!
gr8 that u liked it...eeeeeppp!!! :P :D
Anand said…
Amazing!!! I have read few other posts too. You are too good. I wish I had your flow.
Jitika Jain said…
thanx so much anand....m only good wen it cums to writing fiction....gr8 u loved it....
Lincoln said…
fiction/non-fiction, it was awesome :)

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