Kedar's first day with the new friend group started off bitterly. Akshat was salty and ashamed that the prince himself had scolded him for his behaviour. Ehan, keeping aside the fact that he lacks some brain cells, was a perfect mediator who resolved the conflict between Akshat and Kedar. Akshat, at the end, apologised for his immature behaviour.

Kedar came to his dorm room, which he shared with no one, exhausted. His clothes were neatly arranged on the shelf. He threw his jacket over the chair, peeled off the sweater vest, loosened the neck tie that was suffocating him, and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to the elbow. He examined himself in the mirror-messy and drained-and his sleepy eyes looked sleepier than ever. He thought of hitting the gym on the fourth floor, but it was soon forgotten as his phone chimed with a text from Agastya, his cousin, asking him to face time.

Kedar opened his MacBook and plopped down on the comfy bed.

'Hey, prince charming.' Agastya Panwar's face lit up on the laptop screen, his voice squeaky like that of an obsessive fan girl outside the palace gates after catching a glimpse of Kedar, just to make him annoyed. Agastya, being the famous opening batsman for the Indian Cricket Team, was the most humble and modest person Kedar knew. One would rarely see him in a bad mood; even when he was performing badly on the pitch, he would not show his frustration to the public; instead, he would bottle it up, retract from the public, and suffer on his own for days. And when he comes back, he will be better than ever. He is the only rainbow in a family full of gloomy rainclouds. He often says that nobody would take him seriously if he were the future king. It was true; he was too jovial to remain stoic all the time, like a king.

'Urgh, why are you so irritating? How do the rest of your teammates manage you?' Kedar rolled his eyes as he leaned his head on the soft pillows. Despite Agastya's occasional irksome comments, he was the only one who knew Kedar's personality. Moreover, they were travelers on the same boat.

'Aw, don't get annoyed, my prince charming. Now tell me, How was the first day at school?' Agastya asked as he stuffed a spoonful of what seemed like Ceaser salad into his mouth.

'Baaaad.' Kedar facepalmed, irritated from reminiscing about his awful day at Aldridge-Heaton.

'What happened?' Agastya asked, his words unrecognisable as his mouth was stuffed to the brim with food. He had put down the spoon, eagerly expecting Kedar to explain.

'There's this girl.' Kedar pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking about what to say.

'What girl?' Agastya looked more invested in the story than he has ever seen during one of his do-or-die matches.

'Himani Arora.' Her name felt strange on his lips, as if pronouncing it were a sin.

Agastya's keen face turned into a smiling one. 'Ohoho...' He was bobbing his head and smiling at the same time, like he had caught someone's secret. 'It's the first day at school, and there's a girl already.'

'No!' It came out of Kedar's mouth like a scream. 'It's not...' He started to stutter mid-sentence. 'It's not what you think. Nothing of the sort.' He said, his British accent more pronounced, which happens all the time when he tries to deny something or argue with someone. He was mastered in the act of switching accents whenever needed, as he used to spend his childhood in London, Delhi, and Nainital.

'You dated, what? At least seven girls in your life. Now I ask about this one girl; you're blushing as if you fell face first into a bucket of ketchup.'

'That's because I'm angry at you.' Kedar's voice reached dangerous decibels.

'I'm awngreh at chew.' Agastya said, a terrible attempt to imitate Kedar's accent.

'Shut up, Agastya.' His accent was back to normal. 'There's no girl. Forget it. My day went perfectly.'

'Uh, don't spoil the fun; you kill joy.'
'Now in what corner of the world are you right now?'

'Sydney. Having this awful late-night dinner while contemplating how to win the third match against the Aussies.'

'Oh, the ODI series. I completely forgot about it. Sorry.' Kedar made an apologetic face.

'Ah, it's fine.'

'How were the first two matches?'

Agastya clicked his tongue. 'Eighty-seven in day one and forty-nine in day two.'

'Oops. Who refrained you from hitting a half century?'

'Starc.' Agastya had resumed eating his salad.

'Don't worry. You'll score a century in the next game. Pakka.'

'I know I've got faith in me.' He said kissing his bicep.

'Agastya,' Kedar's voice softened.

'What?'

'I need your help.'

'I saw it coming.' Agastya said, to which Kedar grinned like an idiot. 'What's it?'

'I need a car from your collection.'

'Why would you need my car?' Agastya took another spoonful of his salad, the sound of the lettuce crunching under his teeth drowning out his words. 'You've got your own.'

'No. Apparently, I don't have anything now. No equerry, no car, no chauffeur.'

'Good heavens, they actually abandoned you in that cold, remote place.'

Kedar sighed in response.

'I'll send one before Sunday.'

'Uh,' Kedar scratched his neck. 'Could you send your Ford Mustang?'

'No.' Came the answer within a millisecond.

'The Oxford white one?' Kedar seemed ingore Agastya's answer.

'How many Ford Mustangs do you think I own, every colour of the fucking rainbow? And I said no. What if you run it into a hill? It's way too risky.'

Kedar fell silent, a trick to trap Agastya.

'Ok, fine, stop sulking. I'll try to send it before Sunday.'

'Thank's bro.' Kedar grinned. 'And don't let Dada know that I'm using your car.'

'Do you think I wish to walk around without a head above my shoulder?'

'Oh, that would look awful.' Kedar scrunched his nose.

'I forgot to tell you. There's a T20 tournament coming up against England. We're playing at Dharamshala the last day.'

'That's great!' Kedar exclaimed. 'I'll see you there then.'

'Yeah, I'll see you there. Now I need some good sleep before I train myself to fly Starc's balls into the gallery.'

'See you later.' Kedar said turning off the laptop.

Outside, the sky started to darken at the edges; a slight drizzle seemed to pour from the clouds, which would soon turn into heavy rain. Kedar wished to take a walk through damp stone pavements through the lush greenery leading to the lake and the woods behind it. But he was too knackered to even get out of bed. So he set aside his thirst to discover nature for some other day and snuggled under the duvet. The sound of rain tapping against the window eased his tension, and he soon fell into the arms of deep slumber.

Himani ran as fast as she could to the Peaks and Beans cafe at the end of Garam Road to take shelter from the pelting rain.

'It's been raining all day.' She said as she opened the door and waggled her head to get rid of the rainwater like a cat. It was the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that greeted her first, followed by the soothing voice of Troye Sivan singing Strawberries and Cigarettes from the speaker.

'Am I late?' She said, looking towards the counter, where the cafe owner, thirty-two-year-old Maryam, stood with her hands on her hips.

'Very much. Now get to work. We open in ten minutes.' Maryam said as Himani walked past her.

Himani waits tables at Peaks and Beans on alternate days in the evening. When she got into Aldridge-Heaton, she decided that she wouldn't trouble her father for money. Of course, her father did not agree at first, but after constant pestering and speeches on financial independence from her side, he did.

'Why are you late?' Chef Veer, who is also Maryam's husband, asked from the kitchen as she walked in to get her apron. The other two waiters, Arya and Dhruv, both college students, had arrived already.

'Awful day at school.'

'What? Did those money eating roaches trouble you again?' Veer asked, chopping the green bell peppers.

'Yes.' She said, and tied the black apron around her waist.

'You should inform the principal.' Said Maryam, to which Veer, Arya, and Dhruv agreed.

'I saw on Twitter that the prince of Garhwal got admission there.' Arya said as she wiped the countertop.

Himani's throat tightened. She could feel his arm around her elbow. 'He did.' She said as she pulled out the bucket and mop from under the counter to clean the floor. Even though they had been assigned specified jobs, everyone did everything from cooking to cleaning the floor.

'Breaking news, he's just like everyone else.' Himani almost laughed.

'He is?' Arya's eyes widened in disappointment and shock. 'I thought he's nice.'

'His mother was the nicest woman ever. It's sad that such good people die so early.' Dhruv said, taking out the plates from the dishwasher.

'Hm, apparently the Indian version of Princess Diana.' Veer said.

'Diana was British, so was Princess Agnes.' It was Maryam who said it.

'Ok, then, she's like Sonia Gandhi.' Veer said.

'That's more like it.' Dhruv chuckled.

As they finished their work, Maryam asked Himani to flip the "Closed" board to "Open" in the storefront. As she was about to get back to the kitchen after changing the board, she spotted a delivery boy walking towards the cafe, holding a bouquet of flowers. He greeted her and handed over the flowers, which were supposed to be delivered to Ms. Himani Arora. He examined the bouquet-light pink roses with white baby's breath-her least favourite colour. Inside the bouquet was a white tag tied to a silver thread.

"Himani, I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Her grip tightened around the stems of the roses, and the thorns around them were chipped off. She wished they weren't.

'Mani,' The familiar voice of Lily filled the cafe as she came running inside.

Lily was still wearing the uniform. She usually stops by the cafe after reaching home, provided by the school, which is closer to the cafe, where she lives with her mom and dad.

'I heard what happened in the math class.' Lily said as she placed the umbrella down and grabbed Himani's shoulders.

'It's all Harry's fault. I told him not to give my seat to anyone ever.'

'I know. Harry's the only good one in your math class, and forget about sitting next to anyone else. Whatever he needs, some head smacking for forgetting everything.'

'Nah, don't trouble him.'

Lily's eyes travelled to the bouquet of roses on Himani's hand, which she forgot to hide as she came in. 'Oh, is this yours?' Lily's mouth widened. 'Did someone send you flowers?'

'No, um.' Himani tucked the tag that clearly mentioned her name into the flowers so that Lily couldn't see them. 'It's for a customer. Her boyfriend ordered it so that we could give it to her when she comes in.'

'Oh, I thought someone had a crush on you. Well, if someone did, I would know, and you would tell me.' Lily's words pierced Himani's hearts like little arrows the Lilliputians shot at Gulliver. She wouldn't know, and Himani cannot tell her. After Lily left, Himani threw the bouquet in the bin.