When I was in ninth grade, I was an insufferable child for my peers. My hair used to be drenched in oil that the US would be jealous, my forehead shone like a bald man's head and I wore two stiff plaits like dark cinnamon sticks. My chin snootily held up high, I responded to every question uttered by my teachers. Apart from my obsession with academics and following high scores which consumed my entire being with arrogance, I didn't really remember having a personality.

It all changed when four years ago, Lila barged into my life with dishevelled, loose braids, a mischievous grin and an encyclopedia on how to live.

I was befuddled when our class teacher announced that Lila was selected with me for the quiz competition. The pretty girl who had played x and zero with the entire class instead of paying attention during lectures, but never won a single time. I couldn't see how she would be of any use, but I didn't complain. I saw it as a golden opportunity to haughtily dominate over the competition and dreamt of bringing victory single-handedly.

Lila offered to take me to the centre where the competition was held and while I was revising from the Bournvita quiz books beside her, she carelessly chatted with her driver, Manu. Her zeal irked me because I couldn't concentrate on the questions. Whenever I whipped my head up to throw her a dirty look, her grin broadened, rendering me speechless.

Lila and I had been in the same class since fifth grade, but oddly enough, our paths never crossed like two parallel lines. But hers turned out to be a bit wonky and finally intersected with my rigidly straight one, bending and twisting my own in multiple ways. All these years while our classmates worshipped her, I scorned at her, thinking she was too vain. Here we were, in the same car, different journeys towards one destination.

She tried speaking to me, lightly tapping my upright shoulders and pointing out of the window at anything tiny that seemed to amuse her. With my brows knotted in irritation, I used to look up from my books, to find a dog's head stuck out of the window of some car. I had to suppress my smile and not give into the popular opinion of liking her, like all my classmates did. Lila was the cool girl, the first one to listen to English songs and genuinely like them in our batch while the rest of us pretended to like them and sang all wrong lyrics. When we finally understood the songs of Taylor Swift or Justin Bieber, those artists ceased to be "cool." It was a constant rat race among us with Lila already being in the finish line.

The first two rounds of the quiz competition was a big blur, I was as thrilled as Lila had been and I successfully answered several questions. Lila was content in clapping beside me and tingles shot like firecrackers in my body every time I scored a point more than the rival team. The last round was the buzzer round and the deciding factor which added immense pressure. The rival team was quicker in pressing the buzzer and they got the first few questions right, causing me to sweat profusely.

The scores came to be equal with only one question to go and the pressure heightened, making me feel like a tense cricketer in the ultimate India vs Pakistan world cup. When the question was read aloud, I could feel the queasiness in my stomach intensify.

Who was the Portuguese Governor in India who captured Goa from the ruler of Bijapur?

I had read it somewhere in the Bournvita quiz book in the car, right before I had seen the face of that dog. Now, my memory consisted solely of the picture of that labrador, it's tongue stuck out mockingly at me as it respired heavily. The buzzer buzzed and I felt my throbbing heart lurch to my stomach like a ball dropped into a pit. I knew that I was ready to burst into tears at having lost after being so close to winning, but then I heard a familiar voice shout, "Alfonso!"

There was a pause before the host asked calmly, "Full name please."

Lila became flustered and I held the microphone, bringing it closer to my mouth. "Alfonso de Albuquerque."

Both of us held our breath in anticipation with our hands over each other's and wrapped tightly around the microphone.

"That is correct!" And in that hazy moment of exhilaration, I couldn't hear the applause from the audience or the throbbing of my heart because I was crushed in Lila's embrace. And in a second, she let go of me and the dancing twinkle in our eyes met and danced together with more pleasure. On our ride back, both of us chatted with Manu, admiring the massive trophy which we cradled between us like a baby.

When I had arrived at my building and gotten out of the car, Lila got out too, handing me the shiny trophy.

"No, you should keep it," I said earnestly, surprised that I wanted her to have it.

She smiled sheepishly. "No . . . I can't take it."

"Why? You saved us by giving the last answer."

"I didn't really know the answer." She was looking apologetic which puzzled me. "I understood from the movement of his lips when the guy from the other team was discussing the answer. So I took a chance and---"

"What?" I blinked at her, her face flushing into an adorable scarlet colour.

"Please don't be mad at me. Here, take it." She thrust the metal trophy towards my chest and the empty vessel rattled. The emptiness rattled in me and I became aware about how futile this winning was. It was a new discovery for me, me who was obsessively revolving around quiz and debate competitions like a lone satellite in infinite space, not bothering to connect with anyone but watching others connect. The best feeling that I had experienced in all years of school was the moment of rapture shared with Lila, our hands intertwined around the microphone, our eyes connecting and both of us squealing in pure joy.

"I'm not mad at you," I admitted quietly, taking merely the lid. "I'll take this, you can have the rest."

"Really?" Her eyes widened in bewilderment and I knew that I had made her happy, a feeling which trapped a little awkward prisoner full of warmth and confusion in my ribs. From then on, the prisoner permanently resided there. "My mum will be so overjoyed to see this!" Whereas my parents had been accustomed to seeing the usual trophies and medals pouring in the house, most of which my mother had locked up in the dusty, storage cabinets. It was refreshing to see her delightfully gush over a piece of metal. "Thank you! I had fun today!"

And like a rabbit, she jumped back in the car and drove away, leaving me with a lid of the trophy and memories which I would call "fun" too.

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