Author's Note: Hi y'all! I am glad y'all enjoyed the first part of this short story - here's Part 2. Part 3 should be up tomorrow! Enjoy :) 

--------------------------------------

Murtasim Khan

Echo Valley High School, USA

Monday

Murtasim really tried to hold back the grin when their Calculus teacher asked him to stay back after class. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from beaming like an idiot. His plan was officially in motion. The waiting game was over.

Just as he had hoped, Mr. Raza, one of his favorite teachers, was concerned.

"Murtasim, your calculus mark was among the highest last year. What happened?" Mr. Raza asked, sounding genuinely worried. His bushy eyebrows knitted together in a perfect display of teacherly concern.

Murtasim feigned innocence, putting on his best "confused student" face. He had purposely bombed his Calculus test, even though he knew the answers backward and forward. Each wrong answer had been a calculated step towards this moment.

"I just don't understand the concepts. I think I'm attempting to solve the problems in an incorrect manner," he said, delivering the line just as he had rehearsed in front of the mirror that morning. Mr. Raza nodded sympathetically, falling right into his trap.

"Would you be open to having another student tutor you?" Mr. Raza asked, his voice dripping with concern.

Hook, line, and sinker.

"That would be a great help, actually," Murtasim said, trying not to let his excitement seep into his voice. Inside, his brain was doing cartwheels and chanting, "Meerab, Meerab, Meerab."

"Meerab is going to be running the sessions this year, and so far you're her only student," Mr. Raza said.

Bingo. Murtasim could have kissed the man. Things were working out exactly as he had hoped. He felt like he had just won the lottery, except this prize was way better than money.

"Meet her here after school," Mr. Raza added, oblivious to the internal celebration happening inside Murtasim's head.

He nodded and thanked Mr. Raza, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. But as soon as he walked out of the classroom, the smile that spread across his face could have blinded someone. He was going to spend at least an hour alone with Meerab.

He floated down the hallway, feeling like he was walking on air. He could practically hear a triumphant fanfare playing in his head. If he had pom-poms, he would be doing a victory cheer.

He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice Saad approaching him until he spoke. "What's got you grinning like a fool? Did you finally win the lottery or something?" He asked, nudging him with an elbow.

Murtasim smirked, trying to play it cool. "Better."

Saad raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Better? What could be better than winning the lottery?"

Murtasim hesitated, savoring the moment. "Just something good."

Saad frowned, clearly not satisfied with the vague answer. "Something good? Come on, spill it."

Murtasim kept walking, enjoying the suspense. "It's nothing. Just a little... development."

Saad groaned, now visibly impatient. "A little development? Dude, you're killing me here. What happened?"

Murtasim shrugged, his smirk widening. "Patience is a virtue."

Saad threw his hands up in exasperation. "Murtasim, if you don't tell me right now, I'm going to go tell Meerab that you - !"

Murtasim shushed him, finally giving in. "I've got a tutoring session with Meerab. Alone. After school."

Saad's jaw dropped. "No way. Did you bribe a teacher or something?"

"Nope. Just played the long game, my friend," Murtasim said, unable to keep the smug satisfaction out of his voice.

"Long game?" Saad asked, confused.

"I bombed the Calculus test." He grinned.

"In SENIOR year?!" Saad yelled, aghast.

He just shrugged.

"Man, you must really love her or something to do that now when marks count the most." Saad laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Good luck not drooling all over her, remember to breathe."

Murtasim sighed. "I am not that bad."

Saad snorted. "Yeah, right. I'll believe it when I see it. Just remember, if you pass out from sheer excitement, she might think you're having a seizure."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Murtasim replied dryly, rolling his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you take too much pleasure in my misery."

Saad laughed. "Hey, someone's gotta keep you grounded. But seriously, what's the plan? Are you going to actually let her tutor you or just stare at her like a lovesick puppy?"

"Well, I have to pretend I need help with Calculus," Murtasim admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. "But it's worth it. Time alone with her is more than I could've hoped for."

Saad shook his head, still chuckling. "Man, you're really going all out. Just don't do anything stupid."

Murtasim shot him a look. "You know me, always the epitome of discretion."

Saad laughed even harder. "Yeah, because kicking a soccer ball into Andrew's groin during practice was the height of subtlety."

Murtasim couldn't help but laugh too. "Okay, maybe I could tone it down a bit. But come on, he deserved it."

"True," Saad agreed, still grinning. "Just try to keep it together during your tutoring session. You've got this, man."

He spent the rest of the day in a daze, hardly able to concentrate on anything else. His mind kept drifting back to the image of Meerab, sitting across from him, explaining equations with that sweet, patient smile of hers.

When the final bell rang, Murtasim practically sprinted to the Calculus room, arriving a good ten minutes early. He paced around the empty classroom, rehearsing cool, casual things to say.

"Hey, Meerab. No. How about, 'Hi, Meerab, thanks for the help, I'm hopeless without you.' Ugh, pathetic." He groaned.

He threw his hoodie off, revealing a long-sleeved t-shirt beneath. Remembering that Mahnoor, the overly clingy girl that hung out with his group of friends, had once told him he had nice arms, he rolled up his sleeves, hoping Meerab might notice.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to give it that effortless, tousled look. He cleared his throat a couple of times, testing out different tones.

"Cool, composed, collected," he muttered to himself, straightening his posture. He needed to look confident, not like a lovesick puppy.

Just then, the door swung open and Meerab walked in, looking like a little ball of energy. She speed-walked into the room, her ponytail bouncing, only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw him.

"Murtasim?" she said, sounding rather confused.

He loved the way she said his name, and he was sure she noticed the small smile that graced his face before he nodded.

"Yep, that's me," he replied, attempting humour, expecting a giggle, and then getting nothing. He tried to sound casual as he spoke again. "I guess you are my tutor?"

She nodded but didn't say much, her expression unreadable.

He immediately felt a pang of dejection. If he were anyone else, she'd be laughing and talking to him, asking about his day or another class. But she didn't say anything as she took her backpack off her back.

"Uh, I guess we should start by going over your test to see where you went wrong," she said, looking at him as she sat down right next to him. He stifled a groan at how good she smelled.

It was flowery and sweet today, not lavender like Wednesday. He didn't quite know how to explain it, but she smelled wonderful, like a bouquet of freshly picked flowers had decided to take a stroll in the spring sunshine and then bottled that scent just for her.

He wondered how he was supposed to focus and implement his plan of getting her to see him in a favorable light when she was so close and utterly distracting. His brain was doing cartwheels, and he could barely remember what a derivative was, let alone how to fake being bad at them.

"Murtasim?" she prompted again, her eyebrow arched, looking like a question mark personified.

"Sorry, just trying to think where I put my test," he said sheepishly before he started digging through his backpack. It was a mess, a black hole of crumpled papers, broken pencils, and who knows what else. He half expected to find Narnia in there.

"Found it!" he said triumphantly, pulling it out of his bag and placing it on the desk in front of her. A half-eaten granola bar fell out as well, rolling dramatically across the floor.

"Perfect," she said, flipping through the paper intently. He took the opportunity to look at her up close, something he rarely ever got to do. Everything about her was beautiful, from her flawless skin to her large almond-shaped eyes, to her cute nose, to her pouty lips.

Her hands were also cute, and he wondered if they were as soft as they looked, he wanted to hold them. Maybe they were softer, like touching a cloud, if clouds were into moisturizing.

He almost groaned when she started biting her perfect lower lip, a habit she always had when she was confused. It drove him absolutely mad. How was he supposed to concentrate on pretending to be bad at Calculus when she was right there, looking like she belonged on the cover of a magazine called Utter Perfection.

"So, it looks like you missed a few steps here," she said, pointing to a problem. Her finger was so close to his that he could feel the warmth radiating from it. "Did you try using integration by parts?"

Integration by parts? He could barely integrate his thoughts at the moment. "Uh, yeah, I think I just got confused about which parts to integrate," he said, hoping he sounded convincingly lost.

She nodded sympathetically, her eyes meeting his for a second before she went back to looking through his test.

"It's almost like you wrote down the wrong thing purposely," she murmured, causing him to tense up. She seemed to be onto him.

"What?" he asked, trying to sound confused and failing miserably.

"Mr. Raza explicitly said that we can't do this for these questions, and that you can't cancel out logs in this way. You have to use the tables and sub in the values," she said, looking up at him. Her eyes were stunning up close, the chocolate brown seemed to pull him in, and for a moment, he was completely lost in them.

Oh great, I'm a deer in the headlights. Pull it together, Murtasim.

"Oh, did he?" he replied, trying to focus on her words rather than her eyes. He knew Mr. Raza had said that, but he had to write something down on the paper and make sure it was wrong.

"Okay then, I guess we'll start from there," she said, rolling her eyes with a playful smirk. "Maybe you should pay attention in class," she murmured, her tone teasing.

He wanted to tell her that he did pay attention, especially when he wasn't busy staring at her, but he didn't say anything. Even though those words would probably improve his image in her eyes, he reminded himself that this plan was better. He would get to spend more time with her and allow her to get to know the real him, even if she thought he was slightly dumb.

They spent the next hour reviewing the first two classes of the semester. Her voice was awfully soothing when she explained things, like a gentle melody that made the complexities of calculus almost enjoyable. She moved right next to him so she could write and explain at the same time.

He could feel the heat emanating from her body, smell the sweet, flowery perfume she used, see the way her lips moved, and hear the way his name rolled off her tongue when she said it. It was sensory overload, in the best possible way.

Focus, Murtasim, focus. This is Calculus, not the Get Lost in Meerab session.

"Alright, so you see how this part is supposed to fit together?" she asked, her fingers lightly tracing the equation in his lucky notebook.

"Yeah, I think I get it now," he replied, though he wasn't sure if he was talking about the calculus problem or the realization, albeit not new, that he was so completely and utterly smitten.

She smiled at him, and he felt his heart do a little flip. "Great."

Her encouragement felt like a warm hug. He glanced at her, seeing the slight wrinkle in her brow as she concentrated, the way her hair fell softly around her face made her look so gorgeous.

"Okay, let's try another one," she said, moving even closer to help him with a new problem. Her arm brushed against his, sending a shiver down his spine. He wondered if she felt it too, but he didn't dare ask.

As they worked, he couldn't resist sneaking glances at her. Every time she bit her lower lip in concentration, he had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss her. He knew it was crazy, but she had a way of making everything else fade into the background.

Oh man, if I had a dollar for every time I had to stop myself from kissing her, I'd be even richer.

"Does that make sense?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Uh, yeah, totally," he lied, still trying to figure out if he could smell her hair without her noticing.

She smiled, and he felt his heart do another flip. "Great! Let's try another one."

For the next hour, she patiently went through problem after problem, while he did his best to ask questions that made him sound convincingly clueless. All the while, his mind raced with thoughts of her—her laugh, her smile, the way she effortlessly explained complex concepts.

When the session finally ended, he felt a pang of disappointment but also a surge of triumph.

"Thanks, Meerab. This really helped," he said, hoping he sounded earnest and not like a guy who had just spent the last hour trying not to stare at her lips.

"No problem, Murtasim." she replied with a warm smile.

---------------------------------------

"What's your favorite subject then?" Murtasim asked a few days later, looking up from his notebook. His plan was working—well, the first step was. Meerab was talking to him more now, even if it was only during the 90 minutes she spent tutoring him. But sadly, she didn't talk to him at school outside of their sessions.

"Biology for sure!" she said, and he smiled, knowing that already.

"Too much memorization," he teased, watching her eyes light up as she prepared to defend her favorite subject.

"Yeah, but it's really interesting," she shrugged, her enthusiasm palpable as he worked on the trig question from the textbook.

"You want to be a doctor, right?" he asked her, already knowing the answer but eager to hear her talk about her dreams.

"That's the plan," she smiled, and his heart swelled at her passion.

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious about her motivations. He knew she wanted to be a doctor but didn't really know the reason behind it.

"The answer is going to sound really cliché," she began, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "but I want to help people. I know I could help them in a number of other professions, but being a doctor is the whole package, right? You get to diagnose, treat, and follow patients throughout the whole process rather than being a person who does one thing for them like I would in another role. And I've always liked hospitals and doctors."

Her passion was contagious, and he found himself admiring her even more. "You'll make a great doctor," he said sincerely.

"What about you?" she asked, looking at him with genuine interest.

"I am planning on doing a dual program, architecture and finance, and then maybe an MBA," he said.

Her eyebrows went up, and she looked clearly impressed. The warmth in her eyes made his heart flutter, but it also hurt a little, making him wonder what she really thought of him. "

Why do you look so surprised?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"Uh, well, you seem really sure of what you want to do, and I didn't really expect it. To me, it always seemed like you didn't really care much for school," she said.

Okay, ouch. "Everything is not what it seems," he said, shrugging, trying to keep his tone light.

"Uh, sorry if I offended you," she said meekly, her eyes wide with concern.

"It's okay, I get it. I have an image—I'm a stupid jock with behavior problems, like all my friends," he said with a wry smile.

"To be honest, I've always wondered why you hang out with them," she said, her tone thoughtful. "You aren't really like them. You don't drink and get high like they all seem to, you aren't mean to the other students, and it seems like you actually listen in class...sometimes."

His heart thumped in his chest. She actually noticed him and apparently thought about him.

He felt a surge of warmth and hope. "Yeah, well, they're not all bad. We go way back, and sometimes it's just easier to stick with what you know."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "I get that."

-------------------------------

Murtasim was walking down the hallway, feeling unusually chipper, it was Wednesday again. Since the last Wednesday, he had spoken to Meerab on two other days, which was a lot better than just Wednesdays. She was warming up to him, and he was on cloud nine. As he turned the corner, his eyes immediately landed on Meerab standing by her locker, shifting from foot to foot. Her discomfort was palpable, and the reason was clear: Brandon was leaning in much too close, his arm propped against the lockers, trapping her.

Brandon was inviting death. It seemed that he hadn't learnt from seeing what had happened to Andrew, Jake, and Akash the previous week. Some people just didn't learn from other's mistakes, and needed to make the mistakes themselves and face the repercussions.

Brandon must die.

He was all smirks and swagger, clearly enjoying the situation, as if he didn't notice Meerab's obvious discomfort. Murtasim felt his blood boil. Without thinking, he strode over to them.

"You ready to go, Meerab?" Murtasim said loudly, cutting through the tension. He walked up with a determined stride, stopping right beside her, as if it was usual. Meerab looked up at him, confused at first but then catching on quickly.

"Yes, yes, I am," she replied, relief washing over her face as she took a step closer to Murtasim.

Brandon straightened up, his smirk faltering. "Oh, hey, Murtasim. Didn't see you there," he said, trying to sound casual, but Murtasim could see the fear in his eyes.

Murtasim glared at Brandon, his eyes narrowing to slits.

It was like a silent battle, a fierce duel of wills conducted entirely through eye contact.

He could almost hear the spaghetti western showdown music playing in the background.

Brandon, who had never been one to back down, met Murtasim's glare with one of his own despite the lingering fear in his eyes. The hallway around them seemed to blur, the focus solely on their intense standoff.

Murtasim could feel the adrenaline pumping. He imagined himself tipping an imaginary hat and saying, "This hallway ain't big enough for the two of us, partner."

Brandon's eyes twitched slightly, a crack in the confident façade he was trying to present.

Murtasim seized the moment.

"You need to stop going around bothering women who aren't interested in you," Murtasim said coolly. He leaned in, whispering, his voice dangerously low, "especially my woman."

Brandon's eyes grew wide as Murtasim moved back.

Murtasim arched his eyebrow. "Understood?" He asked.

Brandon nodded. "Sure thing, man." He sounded rather afraid.

His eyes drilled into Brandon's, unblinking, like a laser beam of pure determination. If looks could kill, Brandon would be a smoldering pile of ashes.

"Catch you later, Murtasim." He walked away, not looking at Meerab as if she wasn't standing right there.

Murtasim didn't move until Brandon was out of sight.

He turned to Meerab, his expression softening immediately. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, Murtasim," she said, smiling up at him. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it."

"No problem," he said, trying to act casual, though his heart was racing. "Brandon's a jerk."

She laughed softly. "I thought you two were going to start an eye-contact death match."

Murtasim grinned. "I would've won. I've been practicing my glare in the mirror."

Meerab laughed, a sweet sound that made his heart skip a beat.

He made her laugh.

Like that.

"Well, thanks again. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime," he said, meaning it. He felt a surge of pride, knowing he had helped her. "So, what was Brandon bothering you about?"

"Oh, the usual," she said, rolling her eyes. "Trying to get me to go out with him. He's persistent, I'll give him that."

He was going to drive Brandon to the verge of death at practice later.

"Persistent like a mosquito," Murtasim muttered, earning another laugh from Meerab.

"Exactly!" she said, shaking her head. "It's like, take a hint already."

Murtasim chuckled. "Well, if he keeps bothering you, let me know. I have a fly swatter."

Meerab laughed again, and Murtasim's heart felt like it might burst out of his chest. He couldn't believe she was talking to him, laughing with him, in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see them.

"Well, we should get going. Don't want to be late for class," Meerab said, closing her locker.

"Right," Murtasim agreed, falling into step beside her.

She was talking to him at school, where anyone could see them, and she was walking beside him.

He was going to die.

As they walked down the hallway, Murtasim noticed a few students glancing their way, their eyes widening in surprise. He felt a rush of pride and nerves all at once. His plan was working.

--------------------------------------

Author's Note: In Part 3, which should be up tomorrow, we'll get a peek into Meerab's thoughts, hehehehe.