Page 16 of A Lab Rat's Guide to Fated Love
“Yes, ma’am.” Vir tilted his head in a mock bow, keeping up with her brisk pace. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are we sneaking out like some criminals?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Fehim already had the engine running and drove them off campus as soon as they’d settled into the backseats.
Turning to face Nori, Vir quickly draped the extra stolen sweatshirt over her shoulders.
“What are you—?” she started to protest.
But before she could finish, he pulled her arms through the baggy sleeves and zipped the front closed.
“Uh… thanks,” she said, rubbing her arms while he leaned back in his seat.
Maybe he should’ve looked around for something warmer.
“I have to give him the shot, Fehim. Drive steady,” she said, fumbling inside one of the two backpacks on the seat beside her. “We’re a little over the two-hour mark, Vir. I can’t delay anymore.” She turned towards him.
“Go ahead.” He dragged down the zipper on his sweatshirt and pushed the neckline of his t-shirt aside to expose his left collarbone.
“Okay, breathe,” Nori said, inhaling a deep, nervous fill of air herself before she poked the needle somewhere above his clavicle.
Vir gasped, doubling over as pain shot through the spot the serum went in. It exploded like wildfire, searing through every vessel in his body. It was a terrible idea. He’d ask for a refund if he could breathe. Even though he hadn’t technically paid money to be burned alive like this. Nope, he wanted the beach vacation instead. He wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the throat before the younger version of him could agree to this torture. He was pretty sure such chemical warfare was against basic human rights. And he was a basic human,dammit.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the pain began to subside. It dimmed into a tolerable throbbing with each labored thump of his heart, before a dull soreness took its place, making him feel at least a hundred yearsolder. And like he’d just run a marathon, collapsed, and had been trampled on by a horde of wild elephants.
As he leaned back in his seat again, exhausted, his eyes fell on Nori’s small hand wrapped around his before they flickered up to her face. Her chapped bottom lip was bleeding, and she kept chewing on it as thick spirals of guilt rolled off her. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and relief partly softened the guilt.
“Rest now. I’ll wake you once we’re there,” she spoke so low, it was almost a whisper.
He didn’t need to be told twice; his eyes fell closed almost instantly. He didn’t care where they were going as long as he could sleep now. Unbothered and for a few years, preferably.
The last thing he was aware of before passing out was Nori’s hand still closed around his in a vice-like grip while his fingers twitched in a feeble attempt to hold on.
Four
Nine Out of Ten
November 2018:
Shoja, Himachal Pradesh
Nori
Ryan tapped on his phone screen.“Are you sure the location is correct? It wants us to turn right and—I mean, unless one of you is smuggling a magic carpet with you—”
“Hand it over.” Nori grabbed the phone from his outstretched hand to locate the pin she’d saved earlier. While online maps were usually pretty accurate there, navigating the hills could be tricky at the best of times. “Keep to the right, Fehim. There should be a fork about half a mile ahead. You’d be able to see the cottage from there.”
Fehim nodded in the rear-view mirror. “How’s he holding up?”
“Still asleep.” She brushed Vir’s forehead with the back of her hand. “No fever. That’s good.”
The man hadn’t stirred throughout the near eight-hour drive from Delhi to Shoja—a remote village in the misty, green hills of Himachal Pradesh, whereNori’s maternal grandparents had once lived. And where their house now stood, empty and full of memories, handed down to Nori after her grandma’s recent passing.
She gave Vir’s shoulder a tentative nudge and watched his brow crease momentarily before it flattened again. She left him be, then brought her face close to the partly open window on her side to suck in a deep fill of the crisp, clean mountain air.
Early November chill was just starting to set in. Nori loved everything about the season.
From early winter rains to thick walls of fog that conjured the illusion of her walking on clouds while she sauntered down swooping, sloping, hilly pathways at dawn. And the crisp afternoon sun and warm blankets afterwards. And ice-cream that never melted even as she savored it at a leisurely pace. And unlimited cups of masala chai, their spicy notes soothing at every sip… The winters she remembered spending at the cottage with her grandma had always been the best. She smiled at the prospect of catching the season’s first snowfall in another month’s time.
