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“Please stay,” she whispered, as a tear rolled down her soft cheek.
He sat down again, and kept his gaze firmly on the stage, his throat working as he tried to stop his own tears.
He was twelve years old. Far too old to cry, he told himself sternly.
After the prayer meeting had ended, Jessie’s mother had swept her away, and Aryan and Nivy had gone looking for their parents.
They had found their way barred by the nasty Tejpur siblings.
Deep had shoved Aryan’s shoulder, while his sister had looked on with a smirk.
“Leave my brother alone,” Nivy had hissed.
Aryan had said nothing. He had just glared at Deep, knowing that if he fought back, his mother would be furious with him. Even if he wasn’t the one who started the fight. So, he just took a deep breath and tried to walk away.
Deep had blocked his path again.
“What’s your problem?” Aryan had snapped.
Anika chose that moment to speak up.
“Right now, the two of you are our biggest problem. We don’t want the likes of you hanging out with us.”
Aryan had thrown her a shrivelling glance that had absolutely no effect on her.
“Yeah well, we’re not hanging out with you. We’re hanging out with Jessie and Veer, who happen to be our friends,” Nivy had snapped.
“Friends? Don’t kid yourself. They are royals, just like us. And we don’t socialise with commoners,” scoffed Anika, wrinkling her nose, as if the word came with a nasty stink.
“We’re all commoners here,” corrected Aryan.
Deep had frowned in confusion.
“Huh?”
“We live in a democracy, and you guys lost your princely titles long ago. So you’re commoners now, just like us,” Aryan had pointed out, happy to have remembered the bit of history that his school had tried to gloss over.
Deep had shoved him again, while Anika glared at them.
“What. Ever. Just remember that the two of you will never be good enough for them,” she had said snidely, as she walked away, dragging her stupid brother with her.
Tears ran down Jessie’s face as Aryan told her all this, and she took a step towards him.
“Anika was an idiot. And so were you, Aryan, to believe her.”
He sighed.
“It wasn’t just her, Jessie. Even my own father believed that I wasn’t good enough for you. So why wouldn’t I believe it?”
“Your father loves me,” she cried.
“Yes, he does. Which is why he warned me not to destroy your life.”
“When did he do that?” she asked with a frown.
“On your eighteenth birthday,” he replied softly.
CHAPTER11
