The second chapter is here.

Dive in to meet some, new characters.

Enjoy!

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"He's what?"

"You heard me the first time, Zoya." Humaira grumbled, "My new tutor!"

Zoya laughed, her palms hitting the table. They were sitting in their college canteen, and Humaira was telling her about her new tutor.

"So, you are telling me that the guy you had a crush on as a child is now your teacher?" She was beaming with excitement.

" What rubbish! " Humaira hit her friend lightly. "How can a child have a crush on a grown-up guy? Sick. " She was really disgusted by the scenario that Zoya was trying to portray. "I didn't have any crushes on anyone back then. He was just a good guy who used to play with– I mean... conduct those educational activities for his father's students. I used to like that about him." She explained, recalling the teenage boy who'd conduct fun activities.

But ignoring everything, Zoya only concentrated on the words that benefited her," So, 'back then', huh? What about now?" She asked with wiggling brows.

Humaira rolled her eyes but her cheeks had the tint from the smile that she wasn't able to control.

"Oh, look at the scarlet letter!" Zoya teased.

"Well.. he's undeniably HOT. Like extremely hot." She was grinning, "See, last time I saw him- he was around nineteen - twenty... one... ish," she had her doubt with the time frame, "going through the cool jacket over the T-shirt and the beaded necklace phase. And those extravagant curls. But yesterday," her eyes beamed with excitement, and her lips curved in a wide smile, " he was so well groomed in his formal attire. And the tie and folded sleeves. Uff." She heaved a long soft sigh to calm her jittering hormones. " Yup, straight from the forbidden romance novel."

"So, you imagined pulling him with that time and-"

"No!" She gasped, smacking her friend playfully for putting a picture in front of her that she didn't want to imagine. "I'm not that horny, okay? Plus, he is Baba's son after all. I cannot think like that about any of his sons. Or else, Saad and I would have been celebrating our 19th anniversary or something. " She clearly dismissed the idea of anything romantic happening with either of Baba's sons.

" Well, you did celebrate your 10th anniversary some 8 years back. " Zoya laughed, reminding her.

Humaira joined her, too," That was out of innocence, okay?! We were just kids. We played as a married couple and celebrated our anniversary whenever I liked. Sometimes THRICE a month. "

" It's still a shock to me why you and Saad are not dating. You have known each other for your entire life. "

" There! " Humaira pointed out to her," There you have your answer. We have known each other for our entire lives! I know what kind of person he is; his likes and dislikes. What kind of husband he's gonna be- 'cause trust me, I've seen all the versions he could offer. "

" You cannot be serious, " Zoya uttered in disbelief," You're seriously judging him according to your playdates?"

"Yaaaa." Humaira's tone was factual. As if she had a very valid reason behind her judgment.

"Oh my God, Kashif is coming. Don't look back." Zoya used her hair as a curtain to hide her face and sink into her place while her friend remained unbothered, "You know that I don't have to do anything to have his-"

She wasn't able to complete her statement as the guy in question stood behind her," Good you're here, babe. I've been looking for you all around the college. "

His voice annoyed Humaira to her core. Kashif Aziz, a post-graduate student who happened to meet Humaira when she needed some help from the student union back in her first semester. It was that day, and today, Kashif had marked her as his, like a pirated version of Kabir Singh. But Humaira was no Preity.

" Don't you get bored, Kashif? " She had the most tired and worn-out tone one could ever hear," Honestly, I have run out of ways to insult you in this one year. Apni hi izzat karlo. "

(Respect yourself)

" I'm not going anywhere, Humaira. Doesn't matter what you say or do. You spare me a glance or not, " he smirked, seeing her concentrating on her lemonade, long wavy hair covering her back," I will win over you one day."

" I'm neither a war, nor a prize, nor a challenge that you are going to win, " She avowed.

"Oh girl," he smiled, making a dimple evident on his left cheek. " You have no idea what you're to me. One year and still you won't let me call you mine. You're at war, a battle, a challenge... I don't care." He leaned closer, and mumbled, " The day I win you, you'll be my most precious possession."

She pushed him away, maintaining the distance between them, " In your dreams."

Ignoring her remark, he continued with his task of getting on her nerves," See you after class. "

" Hope you turn blind by then."

Kashif left the place along with his minions. Humaira smacked her head on the table," Oh God, that guy is so annoying."

Kashif was quite popular among students. He was a considerably good-looking guy standing tall at his 5'11 height. His dark hair, vaguely covering his forehead, made girls swoon. On top of that, he had a political background and a keen interest in boxing. The only thing he may lack was the proper way to approach a girl, or else, Humaira wasn't that hard to pursue.

After finishing their respective drinks, Humaira dragged Zoya with her to the classroom. They were giggling for no reason at their ongoing topic while waiting for their lecturer. The chattering of students halted at once when the lecturer entered the room. A not-so-united greeting came one after another as the teacher took his place and began to mark the attendance.

Humaira leaned on her friend whispering, "he is such a sight to sore eyes."

"He's our teacher stupid! Plus, you don't have any interest in firangis ( foreigners) na. Leave him for us." Zoya nudged her friend, who was still hung up on a forbidden romance from Pretty Little Liars.

"He's half French, half Sindhi." She revealed, making her friend's eyes open wide in shock,

"You stalked him?"

"If something is on the internet. It's not stalking." Humaira had a smirk on, proudly flipping her hair on her back. "Osman Khalid, mother is French who married an Indian guide during her India tour, and this- 6'2", fair and handsome with perfect balance of Desi and videshi genes is a result of that marriage. "

"Are you planning to hit on him or what? "

Humaira scoffed," Eww, Zoya. What's wrong with you? If I'm considering someone's looks, it doesn't mean I wanna date that person. And have you seen him? He's wayyyyy out of my league."

" Yes, the two at the back. Stand up! "

The two chatterboxes made silly faces when caught red-handed by their teacher.

" Stand up. " The lecturer shouted.

" Sorry, sir. " Both said in unison.

" Zoya, if I remember correctly- you've graduated from this college. What are you doing here in my class? "

" Sir, I was here to get my marksheet affiliated. I was just saying hi to my friends and you came in so... " Zoya tucked a thin lock of her hair behind her ear.

" Leave. Now. "

Zoya flashed an apologetic smile to Humaira, who was burning under her lecturer's angry glare, before collecting her belongings and walking out of the room.

"Do you want to follow your friend, Humaira?"

"No, sir." Humaira was looking anywhere but at him; she could feel his raging eyes on her and wished for nothing else but having Sir. Kader's attention was elsewhere.

"I want you in my office after this class. Hmm?"

"I haven't done anything wrong, sir." She wasn't confident with her words.

"You exactly know what you did. See me after the class." With that Osman Kader continued his lecture.

But Humaira wasn't as carefree as she was with her friend by her side. She felt the class was making fun of her. Maybe that wasn't the case but she thought everyone was discussing her shortcomings.

The period ended and Humaira silently followed her teacher. He opened the door for her, and she entered the counselling room.

" What was your percentage, Humaira? " Sir. Kader asked, taking his seat behind the desk.

"57%, sir."

"In attempt...?"

"Second." Her reply was quiet.

"Have you cleared your first semester, yet?"

She moved her head slowly from side to side.

" From your present tactics, it doesn't seem that you're going to clear it for another year. "

Humaira was sitting silently, listening to her teacher. She knew this was long overdue. Osman Kader wasn't like any other teacher from her college who would only praise the toppers and spare no glance at the back benchers. He would take out his time and give a one-on-one lecture to remind the student of their failure. That was his way of motivating them.

" That girl- Zoya, she is your friend, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"But how? She graduated two years ago. She was a year senior to you."

"We were school friends. She was my junior," She revealed, " Then I failed in my 8th standard and she became my classmate." Humaira's eyes had no remorse. Her eyes had challenged her teacher to humiliate her with this new revelation. It was her way of saying that she isn't bothered by what others think of her, though the truth was otherwise but she wouldn't let others have the satisfaction of wounding her pride.

Playing with the paperweight, Osman Kader repeated his words, "Yet, she graduated before you."

"Yes, I failed my 11th, took a gap after 12th. I still haven't cleared my first semester, but thanks to this new system, I can continue with my current sem while still reappearing for the previous."

"You do know that this is gonna be your last attempt? You cannot appear for the same paper more than three times."

"So what if I fail? I'm pretty enough to marry a rich guy."

"Humaira Mir! I'm being serious about your future." Osman banged his hands on his desk, standing up, "How can you be so unaffected with the kind of life you're living? Instead of being sorry and trying to be better with your grades, you're telling me, your teacher, that you'll marry rich? Do you have any respect for yourself? Seems like this is going to be your last semester here."

Humaira didn't flinch. She stood unaffected in front of him; but Osman could see a hint of mystery in her eyes, some kind of pain that she enjoyed putting herself through.

"I want to meet your guardian. Two days. I'm giving you two days to bring your guardian to me. Am I clear?"

"I cannot promise, sir. They are quite busy people."

" Two days. You may leave now, Humaira. "

She nodded, following his command, wishing him a good day, and she closed the door behind her. Her throat felt heavy. She was having a hard time breathing normally, the mechanism of breathing felt like a tough task. She opened her mouth to breathe in some air to feel normal.

"Guardian call. What are we, twelve?" She muttered angrily

★★★

"Did you really love this subject or did someone force you into this?" Umair questioned, keeping the answer script that he had marked with innumerable mistakes in front of Humaira, " How can someone be this bad at something they love?"

"When did I tell you anything about loving literature?" She frowned at her grades. Her answer script was covered with red ink correcting her mistakes.

"Then why did you call this upon yourself?"

"English was supposed to be easy! Something that we pass with grade marks without even studying! But this isn't English. It's... it's... Rubbish." She pushed the paper away in frustration. Humaira already had a tough day in college, and her substitute tutor wasn't giving her an easy time either.

"Precisely, your answer is rubbish. Not the subject. " Her tutor remarked.

" No, it isn't! What kind of English is this that someone who has studied that language their entire life doesn't understand a single sentence without the help of a dictionary! "

Hearing her, Umair chuckled dryly, correcting her," You didn't study the language all those years; you were studying IN that language, Humaira. " He tried to explain," Back in school, you were learning everything presented to you in the English language. It's now that you're learning English as a language. The dramas and plays, the novels that you read and enjoy are literature... You loved doing that. And you still do pretty well in those." He appreciated her fortitude before continuing,

"But this... Linguistics is the study of language. There's no story behind it, or any symbolism." He shrugged, leaving his seat, he was walking to her, "If the curtain is blue then it is blue." He stopped in front of her desk, and moved his hand in question, "But from where did English get the words like 'curtain' or 'blue', that's linguistic." He concluded.

"You can call it the science of language. You have to understand it. " He was holding her gaze all the while he was explaining.

The subject came to him naturally, a seamless part of him. As he spoke, his eyes held a visible sparkle, and his words flowed freely, without any hesitation or forced effort. It was clear he loved what he did, a feeling Humaira couldn't relate.

After such a good explanation regarding the subject, Humaira had only one question to ask, " Do you always have this eye contact battle? You're good at it and I'm not a fan of losing either."

Umair's mouth gaped as his expression turned into a frown, but his eyes remained locked at hers, "It was no battle, Humaira. I was explaining something!"

"Well... now it is." She beamed, resting her face on the cushion of her palms.

" Then battle it is," Umair accepted the challenge, holding the edge of Humaira's desk to support his weight as he leaned to intimidate her with his gaze but she remained unfazed.

A crooked smile appeared on Humaira's face that didn't go unnoticed by Umair, but before he could guess what it was for, a gentle blow of air struck his face, making him close his eyes, "You cheater!"

"How do you think I scored 57%?" Humaira grinned picking up her backpack.

"You are a lost cause, Humaira. You have no morals!" Umair snapped at her, being bitter about his defeat as well as at the revelation of her cheating in exams.

"Thanks for understanding me so well, Sir. Mirza!" She blew a kiss in his direction before walking out of the room.

He signed in disappointment, shaking his head, "What's wrong with this girl?" He took a last look at her answer script. He explained the topic in person, gave her notes and prompts, and made a study guideline for her, but nothing is helping. Nothing. She was indeed a challenge.

|~★~|

That's it!

Here you all met other characters:

Zoya- the best-friend;

Kashif- The (toxic?) admirer;

Osman Kader- The College Prof.

How did you like these new additions?

The direct

ion the story is heading?

A Few revelations from Humaira's past about her academic failure. Seems it's not only linguistics holding her back!

Why are Saad and Humaira not a couple?

Let me know your thoughts.