(A/N: My version of how Rahul and Anjali meet, during that famous arm-wrestling match that brought together one of the best couples of all time. Based a little on Main Hoon Na, but then, I always thought Sanju was a lot like Anjali, except Anjali didn't really know she liked Rahul until it was too late. R&R, please!)
"Oh, my darling Sanjana," I murmured in her ear. She was so pretty, especially her legs. Wow. I had been crazy about her forever. Or, at least, since this morning. She was a really good kisser, too. Almost better than me. Practically perfect.
Have you ever noticed how the best girls are always taken? Very annoying, if you ask me. But for some reason, they never tell you when they are. Not that it would matter much, but it would help sometimes. Such as when the boyfriend is Rocky, the school's prized bodybuilder and boxing champion.
So I'm in the middle of a really good kiss when those soft lips were torn from mine, and we were rudely interrupted by these ham-like hands grabbing me by the shoulder, spinning me around, and socking me in the cheekbone. You haven't been socked until bodybuilder Rocky does it. I went spinning, and it was all I could do to stay standing.
I felt like crawling back home to Ma and crying like a little baby. But, see, everyone in school knows Rahul Khanna is never scared of anything or anyone. And I've got a rep to protect, you know. So I steadied myself. It was harder than I expected, because, of course, the stupid girl had to start squawking on about how mean Rocky was, and yelling her sorries at me. The noise intensified the headache building up behind my eyes.
"That's my woman you're kissing, Khanna," Rocky said in this really tight, mad voice. Ooh, possessive, isn't he?
I touched my cheek and felt a bruise swelling beneath my fingers. "You wanna bet?" I blurted out angrily. And stupidly. I kicked myself mentally a second later, but the damage was done.
He cocked his head, sort of surprised. "What do you mean, you want to fight for her?"
No, no, no! Anything but fight Rocky. Even though it would give me a good excuse to miss exams… no. It would upset my mother, not to mention my bones. Arm wrestling, I decided. It wouldn't hurt so much. Believe me, it was a much better idea than fighting Rocky!
So that's why five minutes later, my hand was hovering half an inch above the table, perilously close to losing my dignity in front of the whole school. I was fighting with all my strength, but I was so close to losing.
NO, I yelled at myself in my head. Rahul Khanna isn't afraid of anyone or anything! I had to win. To protect my status. So I did.
Some people say I cheated. I deny this fact totally. One hand of Rocky Malhotra is equal to two of my hands. Even with 2 hands, it was hard. And there was no way I was doing a rematch. I wouldn't want to beat Rocky twice!
I was basking in the glory of having the strongest arm in the whole campus (and also the one fullest of girls, they weren't near enough to see the match properly), when a really annoying voice cuts in.
"Hey, you're Rahul Khanna, right? The one who cheated and won that arm wrestling match against Rocky?" I looked up over the crowd of girls to see someone staring at me with a curious look on her face.
She (I was pretty sure it was a she) had short black hair, and was dressed in clothes more fit for boys than girls, but it suited her, somehow. Hmm. I was pretty sure she was in one of my classes. I knew her name started with an A, but I wasn't sure what it was. I'm bad with names.
"I did not cheat!" I told her, annoyed. Why did everyone say that? Let her try arm wrestling Rocky! She couldn't even win if she used both hands and feet!
She just stood there, looking so smug. "Yes, you did."
"Did not!" I objected defensively. Why couldn't she just go away? She was distracting me from all the pretty girls.
"Oh, really? Well, I suppose if you can beat me, then you weren't cheating. You wanna try?"
I almost burst out laughing. No, wait, I did burst out laughing. Her, beat me in arm wrestling? Ha! I just beat Rocky! When I got over most of the laughing, I snorted out, "Sure, sure, if you really want to try!" I turned to one of the girls on my arm, and told her, "Sorry, babe, I have to take care of a challenge right now. As soon as I beat her, you can come back, okay?"
With a little whining, the girls slid off. The strange girl sat down opposite me, and smacked her elbow onto the table, offering her hand. Smiling a little, she said, "Hi. I'm Anjali."
Anjali! That was it! I took the hand, smiling in my melt-the-ladies smile. "Nice to meet you, Anjali." I was going to pummel her in the ground.
She just raised an eyebrow skeptically at my tone, and then, the match started. This is going to be a piece of cake, I thought to myself. I didn't push hard at first. She was still a girl, even if she didn't dress like one. She wasn't even pushing against my hand. Our hands were locked in the middle, her fingers interlaced with mine, and I noted with some surprise how soft her fingers were. How could she possibly expect to beat me with such delicate fingers?
"Go Rahul!" cheered the girl who had been on my left arm, and I suddenly remembered what exactly I was doing. Deciding it would be more merciful to end the game quickly, I shoved my hand against Anjali's, already thinking about all the fun I could have with that hot girl.
That's when I first sensed something wrong. Her hand was supposed to have collapsed to the table, but there it was, still gripping mine. I looked at Anjali in shock, forgetting about the hot girl. She smiled cheekily, and wiggled her eyebrows at me.
I shoved even harder. There was no way a little girl like her was going to beat me! My reputation was crumbling in front of my very eyes. Why wasn't her hand moving?
I put my other hand on hers, and tugged. Anjali's hands moved a bit, but immediately, a flash came into her eyes, and she yelled, "Cheater! You're cheating!"
"Okay, okay," I hurriedly lifted my other hand. Boy, did she have some issues with cheating. I could beat her with one hand, no problem, I was not that weak.
As soon as my other hand was off hers, in a flash, her hand pinned mine to the table. I yelled in shock and surprise, struggling to free her fingers. They were soft, but that didn't mean their grip didn't hurt. It was definitely time to hit the gym.
"Yes! Woo hoo! I win!," Anjali hooted, standing on her chair, and bowing to the rest of the college. And can you believe it, the traitors started cheering her instead of me! I glared at them, but they took no notice.
Anjali started walking off, and I immediately called after her. I couldn't let my reputation be ruined like this. "I want a rematch!" I yelled after her.
She turned in surprise. "You want to lose again?"
I bristled angrily, and retorted, "Same time, same place tomorrow!" Then, I walked off. There was no way I was losing to her again, I vowed.
Vowing was a bad idea, I later learned. I lost again. And again. And again. Then I decided it was time to try beating her at something else. After all, what did arm wrestling prove? It wasn't even a real sport! Unlike basketball, which I had to be better than her at. Or so I was convinced, before she beat me at that too. So we needed to hold rematches on that too. Our rematches continued for months, and somehow, it became a regular routine beginning to our day.
We began spending more time together. Calling insults at each other, predicting each other's every move. The sting of humiliation began to wear off, and instead, the thrill of the game, teasing her, watching her narrow her eyes at me, all became more fun. It was a nameless relationship, where we weren't enemies, but we weren't friends either, but something in between.
One morning, we played a particularly brutal game of basketball. I, by my count, had won, and Anjali, by her count, had won. But this time, I hadn't cheated, I really had shot a three-pointer, not a two-pointer. We spent half an hour screaming at each other, and then strode off in a huff, furious at each other. It was our worst tiff yet, and somehow, it bothered me more than I had anticipated. It was making it nearly impossible for me to concentrate on my girl of the day (Gayatri? Geeta?) and I finally ended up sitting alone in the bleachers, half-heartedly spinning a basketball on my finger.
I heard footsteps approaching, and looked up to see Anjali walking up to me. "Hey," she said, looking at her feet rather than at me. "You were right about the game. I just didn't want to admit that I lost." She finally looked up, meeting my eyes. "You won."
Of course I did, I thought indignantly, and looked away. Let her apologize. It was her fault I was in such a foul mood, after all.
"Hey," Anjali repeated, louder this time. She took my chin, and forced my face around to look at her. "Listen. I'm - sorry. I said a little too much out of anger." And then she did something that surprised me. She held out her hand, and asked, "Friends?"
I looked at her face, and I saw how concerned her eyes were. So it had been bothering her too, our argument this morning. But all the anger and snarkiness had gone out of her expression. She looked...contrite. She looked like someone who had lost her best friend.
I wanted to be her friend. Later on, I thought up a whole number of reasons why she would be an ideal friend later, but at that moment, I didn't need a reason. I just wanted to be friends with this crazy, insane, scary, threatening, loud, obnoxious person who had her hand out so pleadingly.
I considered her hand for a brief moment. But instead of taking it and shaking it, I turned her palm up, and slapped it down with my own.
"What was that?" she asked, surprised.
"A friend thing," I replied, waggling my eyebrows mysteriously.
She laughed at that, and then did something that surprised me. She grabbed both my hands, and slapped down with hers. "So...friends?" she asked hopefully, and I suddenly noticed that her nose was strangely crinkled.
"Haan," I replied, and flicked the tip of her nose with my forefinger.
She jumped back in surprise. "Hey," she protested mildly, before she repeated the move on my face. It made us both chuckle.
We sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds before she started talking. "So, as your friend, can I ask you something?"
I glanced over at her warily. "No."
"Why do you spend so much of your time chasing all these stupid girls?" she asked, ignoring me.
"Hey, hey hey!" I interrupted. "Rahul Khanna doesn't chase girls, girls chase Rahul Khanna."
"Oh, wow! Rahul Khanna," Anjali imitated a typical vapid girl satirically, fanning herself with her hand. "He's so hot, he's so cute, so macho, have you seen his muscles? He gave me a pencil yesterday, and our fingers touched!"
"Yeah, exactly," I agreed complacently.
"So is that the same macho Rahul Khanna that loses to me at basketball nearly every day?" Anjali asked, smirking.
I glared at her. "Not every day!"
"Nearly. Nearly every day."
This was going to be one strange, annoying, special friendship.
(A/N: Well, that's it! Hope you liked it! Oh, btw, see if you can spot the DDLJ reference - it's small, but it's there!)
