Page 17 of Born in Sin

“Celi-“ He checked himself with visible effort. “I apologise. Cara, what are you planning to do with it?

“Celi is fine for this,” she told him, a weight, she hadn’t known existed, lifting off her chest with those words. “This is something Celina is going to do. Not Cara. So, Celi is fine. But only in private. In public, Cara is all I am.”

She smiled, a fierce baring of her teeth. “Call your friends, Virat. We’re going to have only one shot at this. Let’s do it right.”

“They’re your friends too,” he said quietly.

“Maybe at one point they were,” she replied, her smile dimming. “Not anymore.”

He started to say something but stopped, the words dying on his lips. And a long-lost hope she hadn’t known she’d even nurtured, one that had told her that there had been some explanation for what had happened that night, died.

“That’s alright,” she said. “I’m not here to be a friend to anyone either. We all need each other until this is done. Once it is, you can disappear from my life again. All of you. Just like last time.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before she said softly, “Call them, Virat. It’s time to put this to bed.”

Crestwood

A wet plop landed on the blank page of his chemistry notebook. Virat blinked, his eyes stinging as sweat dripped into them, trickling down his jawline and falling on to his book. His shoulder was on fire, the cotton of his uniform sticking to the raw, oozing wound on his back. He could feel the dampness spreading across his back.

His only saving grace, he thought, was that he sat in the last row. The only witness to his predicament was the wall. Beside him, Amay sat, darting worried glances at him. Ishaan, as he loved to do, was in the front row, scribbling furiously into his notebook.

“Are you okay?” Amay whispered, leaning towards him.

A shiver racked Virat’s body as he nodded, biting his lip to hold in the moan of pain trying to escape him.

“What’s happening?” Amay had turned fully in his chair now, unable to hold in his concern. “Vir?”

Virat turned his burning eyes toward his friend trying to glare him into silence, but it didn’t work. The bell rang cutting through the protest he could see rising to Amay’s lips.

“I’m taking you to the infirmary,” Amay said, as all around them, kids gathered their things and scrambled to leave the classroom.

“No.” Virat shook his head, lifting a trembling hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “Just need to lie down.”

Amay helped him to his feet as Ishaan sauntered over, his bag slung low on one shoulder. “What’s-“

Whatever he’d been about to say died a quick death when he got a good look at Virat. “What the hell happened to you?”

“He’s bleeding!” Amay’s whisper was less of a whisper and more of a shout. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Together they heaved Virat to his feet and dragged him towards the door.

“No,” he mumbled. “Not infirmary.”

“Did that shithead Varun do this?” Ishaan hissed, adjusting Virat’s arm over his shoulder.

Virat shook his head, exhaustion stealing over him. He sagged, his head hung on his shoulders, his friends taking the bulk of his weight.

“No,” he whispered again, even as another trickle of wet made its way down his back. Amay and Ishaan dragged him into an empty classroom, Amay rummaging under the teacher’s desk for the first aid box that was always stored there.

Ishaan helped Virat take off his shirt, a roar of pained sound erupting from Virat when they peeled the material stuck to the wound away. Hurried footsteps approached the door and it swung open.

“Shit!” Ishaan swore, when Celina poked her head in.

“What’s-“

A horrified look spread across her face as she got a glimpse of Virat’s back. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s so bad. Why is it so bad this time?”

“This time?” Amay who was uncapping a tube of ointment froze, his gaze darting between Virat and Celina. “What does she mean by this time?”

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