Love Before Graduation-Chapter 57: Ghosts, Guts, and Gossip

The silence of the night, which I was about to drape over my tired soul, was suddenly broken by the creaking sound of the door opening.

Vihan — that half naked little brother — stormed in like he was the head of the house. His eyes were wide, as if he had come to collect a debt.

"Give me the phone for a minute," he didn't ask, he issued a command.

I didn't even lift my eyes. "Go away."

But who was he to care about politeness? He came closer. "Give it."

"I said, no!" This time, I shouted.

And then, the real battle began. No brother, no sister — two hungry dogs fighting over a bone.

The fight for the phone started — pushing, shoving, falling, pillows flying, chairs overturning — the room looked like a battleground after a drunken brawl.

Then it was as if the whole vibe of the mess changed.

Grabbing blankets, tossing pillows, attacking with teddy bears — there was no shame left, no restraint.

Mom came in — one hand holding a half-peeled potato, the other with eyes red from fury.

"What's this spectacle?!" Her screams hung in the air.

Dad also appeared, looking like he couldn't believe if this was his house or a madhouse. Dad didn't say much — just gave that "What did I do wrong?" look.

"Savages!" Mom yelled.

I just stood there shaking with anger — when I tried to say something, the words that came out were:

"Dog! Bastard! Scoundrel!"

It felt like years of suppressed curses were erupting like a volcano.

And then — when I thought things couldn't get worse — Vihan took my slipper.

Yes, my favorite slipper.

Before I could do anything, he tossed it outside like a frisbee.

"Are you out of your mind?!" I screamed.

Mom grabbed his ear with lightning speed, as if she had been training for this moment.

"Vihan! You devil! Throwing a slipper outside like that?! Have you been possessed by some ghost or what?!"

Vihan, trying to break free from Mom's grip, started whining. "Aaa, Mom!"

I stood there trembling with rage, face burning, breath heavy.

Without my slipper, without my dignity, I stepped outside — into the dead silence of the night.

The street was deserted — a dying tea shop, a few lazy crickets, and that old streetlight that seemed to be waiting for death.

I walked barefoot — steps full of anger, my heart eager to tear out of my chest.

I was — a girl — whose slipper had flown away, whose anger was at its peak, and who fancied herself as the heroine of some absurd spy movie.

As I walked, I noticed — four houses down — a shadow that wasn't moving.

Was it a girl... or a ghost? No. No, no. Not now. Not here?

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My mind suggested a terrifying option:

A ghost?

A ghost in a saree, with long hair, the kind you'd see in a horror film?!

"Ghost!" my mind screamed.

And like every typical Indian does, I started to half-heartedly recite the Hanuman Chalisa:

"Jai Hanuman Gyan Gun Sagar..." "Jai Kap Eyes Tihun Lok Ujagar..."

I wish I had remembered the whole Hanuman Chalisa properly!

Where's the sagar, where's the eyes — it all got mixed up. Even the gods must have been laughing watching their child like this!

When I tried to convince myself to run, suddenly I noticed something.

Ghosts don't have bangs.

And what... was that a paper cup in its hand?

Wait.

What kind of ghost stands in front of Shubh's house holding a tea cup?

As if my eyes had opened, I looked more closely — it was Suhina.

Suhina — wrapped in her oversized hoodie, holding a tea cup, deeply involved in some quiet conspiracy.

But the question remained — what was she doing in front of Shubh's house?

Was there some secret love story going on?

Or was there some mystery that a lowly creature like me had to stumble upon?

I walked forward — now my heart raced not from fear, but from the scent of a new story.

The story didn't break here, brother — This is where the real heat was about to begin.