You Were My Crush: Till You Said You Love Me!

About the Author

Also by Durjoy Datta

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-five

Chapter Thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-seven

Chapter Thirty-eight

Chapter Thirty-nine

Chapter Forty

Follow Penguin

Copyright Page

To the coolest brother anyone could ever have.
Benoy, this is for you!

Ever seen the guy who drives like a maniac in a ridiculously big car? The guy with the powerful dad? The big house? Well, I am
that
guy.

Benoy Roy.

I am not flashy, but I have a big car and a big house, and there is no hiding that. But yes, I do not look rich. I stand five feet and ten inches tall and look like someone you would miss on a busy road. Wheatish complexion, slim, with short, neat hair—that is what my matrimonial ad would read like. Often, I have heard people say,
He does not look that rich
. I do not blame them; I was never impressed by what I saw in the mirror either.

Well, it was another morning for me. I was in no hurry again. Life was awesome. I did not have to worry about the early morning lecture, shouting professors or pending assignments.

My head did not hurt even though I was sure I had got
sloshed the night before, since I was on the couch and not on my bed where I should have been! I was still in the clothes I had worn the previous night to the club.

I must have passed out
, I thought.

These nights of excessive drinking, blackouts and bad hangovers were becoming a routine.
This is the last time I am drinking
, I said to myself. I was lying. I tried to remember why I had not gone up to my bedroom and slept, but I really could not. I tried to recall the girl I had danced with the previous night, but I could not remember that clearly either. I remembered the name though.
Palak
. I smiled. She was pretty, and Deb had introduced me to her.

As I heated the coffee and poured it into a cup, my phone rang. It was Eshaan and he asked me the same question that he did every day.
Was I going to college that day?
No, I was not! I didn’t have a hangover but I did not want to spoil that day sitting on those broken benches, beneath the creaky fans. Moreover, three back-to-back lectures were not my thing! Just as I switched on the television, the door was flung wide open. It was the maid. I looked at her, and she smiled. She had the newspaper in her hand; she kept it on the table. Though the house was
pretty
big, I lived alone and so never had much work for her to do.

‘Benoy? What
is
in the sink?’ she asked, disgusted.

‘What?’ I asked as I entered the kitchen.

‘Come and see for yourself.’ She had covered her face with her pallu.

I walked up to the sink and a pungent smell hit my nose. I looked at it and it almost made me puke. It was filthy and it smelled worse than a dead rat.

‘
Damn it
.’

‘Babu, you drank too much last night?’ she said in a muffled tone from behind the pallu.

‘I guess so.’

I asked her to go and shop for vegetables; I told her I would take care of it by the time she came back. She grabbed the shopping bag and left the house as soon as possible. I stood there for a while, disgusted at what I had done. This was new. I used to black out, but I
never
used to puke. The drainpipe was blocked and I thought,
Why don’t they just make bigger drainpipes?

Because people are meant to puke in toilets, dumbass
, a voice in my head said.

I did not waste any more time. I wrapped a handkerchief around my face and got to work with a plunger and that day’s newspaper in my hand. Fifteen
stinking
minutes later, the sink sparkled and I stank.

I am never drinking again! Definitely!
I said to myself as I entered the shower.

I loved the shower area. It was the second-best place after the gym I had set up a couple of months back. It cost me … well, I do not know
how
much, for my father paid for it. All I know is that I loved it. Meanwhile, the maid was back and she had started to cook.

‘
Aunty!
A little less oil,’ I shouted out as I came down the stairs.

‘Babu, where will you get the strength? And stop drinking so much, babu. It’s not good for you,’ she shouted back.

Just as I flopped on the couch, the doorbell rang.

‘Who’s it?’ I shouted from where I was sitting. The door was being banged now.
Harder
.

‘
FINE!
’

‘Deb?’ I exclaimed. Debashish was my cousin, five years older than me. He had turned twenty-five just the day before, and it was his party last night. LAST. DRINKING. NIGHT. EVER.

‘Fuck you, Benoy,’ he said, and he looked pissed. ‘Where have you been? I have been calling you for the last twenty minutes. Anyway, where is Palak?’

‘Palak?’

‘Benoy? I don’t have time for this. Her mom has been calling me since the morning; she’s freaking out. Where
is
she?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Deb!’

‘What? You left with her last night. Don’t you fucking
remember
?’

He started looking everywhere and I followed him around; he was clearly freaking out and was out of his goddamn mind.

‘No! I do not,’ I insisted.

‘Did you guys come home? You said you would drop her at her friend’s place?’

Deb’s phone was ringing constantly.

‘I don’t remember, Deb. All I remember is that we were there in the club and you guys were there too, and then I woke up on this couch. That’s it!’

‘You were on the couch? Then where the hell is she?’ he demanded and sprinted up the stairs. I still had no clue as to what was happening.

‘PALAK?’ he shouted and entered the bedroom.

As I followed him into my bedroom, and tried to remember the sequence of events from the previous night, I saw him bent over an unconscious girl who lay on the side of my bed. Palak! We both helped her sit up on the bed. She was still falling all over us and she stank of beer.

‘Huh?’ Palak looked up, still not in her senses.

‘PALAK. Wake up!’ Deb said. ‘Your mom called me up. She wants to know where you are.
Where
is your phone?’ Deb kept repeating these sentences.

‘Benoy? Don’t just stand there. Get her some water!’

‘Fine,’ I said and sprinted downstairs.

As I came back upstairs, I saw Palak mumble something. I was in a state of mild shock! I really had not expected
this
, even from myself. I had no memory of getting a girl home. It was not really the first time though, but usually I remember.

‘Where is my phone? What did Mom say? Is she angry? Does
he
know? Did
he
call?’ she asked a million questions. I tried to avoid her gaze as I looked for a room freshener. She
stank
.

She was freaking out, and she held her head. I stood there wondering whether it was in regret or if it was the hangover. I wanted to ask her, but I thought it would be better to let Deb handle it. He had been in a relationship for over five years now. He had more experience in handling crying females than me.

‘Relax, Palak, don’t cry. I told your mom that you were with Avantika. And that you’re fine. You really don’t remember where your phone is?’ he asked her.

She shook her head and tears streamed down her cheeks in full flow.
Thank God for Deb!

‘Okay, just go wash your face and then I will drop you home,’ Deb said to her and she left.

‘Benoy? Are you CRAZY?’ Deb almost shouted.

‘What, Dada? She is your friend not mine. I can’t help it if
she
is crazy.’

‘She is not supposed to be here.
You
got her here. You are the one who is crazy, not her. And what would I say to Avantika? You have screwed me, man!’

‘Why are you so afraid of Avantika?’ I asked.

‘I am not. I just like
not
to screw up things with her,’ Deb said.

‘Whatever, I am sorry,’ I said. ‘Do you want me to drop her home?’

‘No, I will do it. Anyway, how is your hangover? Better?’ he asked, concerned. I nodded; he was my brother after all. He even
looked
like me. He was just a shade shorter than me, but he never agreed on that. We weren’t the best-looking people in the world, but we had something in common—a
dimple
, a facial deformity, and it was probably the only good thing about us. Lately, we had been working out together to get ourselves a perfect set of abs, but till then, we were sexually very unappealing.

‘Can we go?’ Palak gulped, as she stood at the bedroom door, still crying softly.

‘Sure.’

She was yet to exchange a single word with me or establish eye contact with me. Deb helped her down the stairs. Bai looked at her, surprised.

‘Bye, Palak,’ I said as those two were leaving through the door.

She did not say anything, just looked at me and gave me a half-hearted smile.

‘I am fine,’ Palak told Deb as she got inside Deb’s car.

‘I am going to talk to you later about this, Benoy. All this nonsense has to stop,’ Deb said as he opened his car door. ‘And this is the last time I am going to help you with your crushes.’

We shook hands and he said, ‘And one more thing, Benoy. Go to the kitchen or somewhere. She just said she puked in your house last night. And she is sorry about it.’

Fuck! Fuck her! Fuck her!
Crush? Bullshit.

Well, at least I could drink again. Later, I found her cell phone in the kitchen. I had no intention of returning it. She had
puked
in my house.