Episode 3 : Enters The Hero

In reality, the violins never ring in or anywhere near you.

Krish was Sandy’s best friend. Strangely, Sara had never heard of him. Krish was averagely good looking, had an average built and with an average intelligence, assumingly. Very charming, though. His “Hi” was exchanged with her “Hi”. They smiled, awkwardly, implying an ‘I don’t know what next to do here’.

“So, final year eh?” she broke the ice. It took Sara precisely three seconds to regret that question. Standing at the entrance of their final year accounting class, that question could make the opposite guy ridicule your intelligence to making it till there in the first place.

“Yes, yes. Obviously” he responded, smiling. She accepted the smile but perhaps that ‘obviously’ hurt her somewhere, although it had to come, obviously.

“Oh yes, obviously, of course. Silly of me” she managed.

He grinned. She grinned, forcefully. She was in the second stage of looking stupid. Also, they hit the dead end of that talking again. There was silence again; and the awkwardness was killing her. Sandy reappeared but only after his ‘promised’ two seconds had actually become five minutes. Sara was not to complain; if not anything else, Sandy now seemed an angel of God to her; to fight the evil uneasiness caused by that conversation, or the lack of it.

Sara hurried within another five minutes, the last one minute dedicated to a round of smiles and goodbyes. It was Sandy who did most of the talking; Krish and Sara thanked him within their hearts for it.

She skipped her planned sleep or honestly sleep ditched her. It definitely was no love at first sight. Nothing was lovely and the violins were missing, anyways.

Episode 2 : The Buckets Theory

Science repelled her, but Sara understood that girls could mentally categorize boys into two buckets, just by looking at them. At least, she did.

The first is the 'FRIEND' bucket- the guy looks normal or in other words non attractive, plain. He has annoying habits one is willing to tolerate because he's a friend or frankly because you know he would never be more than that.

The second one is 'THE ONE' bucket. All treat-for-the-woman-eye creations are honored here. The list is never forgotten. Every handsome guy, the mortal Greek Gods at the sight of whom the heart fluttered as 'the one' are aptly nominated herein. Unfortunately for Sara, she hardly struck a conversation with any in the list. Sara, naturally chatter-box and usually audacious, lacked the guts in matters of the heart and other glands. Also, it happened so that the few she managed talking to, had to be degraded to the third bucket - 'AVOID HIM'. Yes there is always this third one by default. Hence her policy of confinement to mere admiration, of anything worth so, that is; sparing horrors and of course, embarrassment.

It was a fine Saturday morning. The accounting class had just got over. Everyone seemed fresh; perhaps a nap, however uncomfortable in the small benches, nevertheless helped. Sara jumped onto her bike, determined to carry forward the dreams on a proper bed. As she raced her bike, a familiar face called her out from the crowd, that was now buzzing like a swarm of bees. She halted to recognise it as Sandy. It had been ages since she saw him, but then it did not matter, it still seemed the dress was wearing him, as against the usual otherwise for normal people. Yes, Sandy was the skinniest boy she had ever met, making him an easy Bucket 1. After the usual pleasantries, which Sara was rushing through, he finally told "Hey, meet Kush, my best friend." Necessity the mother of invention, they say. A fourth bucket was then needed, hence invented : 'I AM CONFUSED'.

Episode 1 : Damsel In Distress

What had promised Sara to be a challenging, virtue of which, an exciting course of education after a book-soaked high school, had turned out a dampener. This, she realized after sweat-shopping 2 odd years in it. The subjects of her interests were defeated by the ones she disliked by 2:8. Meanwhile, her internships were equally upsetting. Beating the sun to rise and losing to it to set was the routine.

Sara, however, was the ‘I am proudly nerd-thank you’ classmate who was more passionate about the front row seat of the class than for features her smart phone offered. Studying came easy to her, thankfully. So with love or with hate, she was determined to get through her final year successfully. After all, it was her never-to-expire passport to a white collar job, money, perennial supply of mouth-watering delicacies, GUCCI and Prada. 
She wasn't passionate but giving up, after coming this close to the finish line was like boys outperforming girls in the public exams, or in short - unlikely to happen.