Page 72 of Born in Sin
“It’s Virat-“
Celina was already running even before Dhrithi had finished saying Virat’s name, her bare feet flying over the cold, corridor floors. Dhrithi followed, struggling to keep up.
“Track field,” she panted as they ran, streams of kids joining in from all sides, all clearly heading in the same direction.
Dirt and gravel bit into her feet as she ran, not waiting for Dhrithi to give her more details. She needed to get to Virat. Whatever it was, she knew it would only be better if she got to him.
A crowd had gathered around the track field, shouts and screams rending the air. Celina elbowed her way through not bothering to be gentle about it. She finally broke through the first row and got her first glimpse of what was going on.
Horror suffused her as she watched Virat and Varun grapple with each other, throwing punches. Amay and Ishaan were trying to pull Virat away while Naveen and his cronies were egging Varun on from the side.
“Vir!!!”
The scream that tore from her throat had him glancing at her. That second’s distraction was all Varun needed. He hauled his hand back and punched Virat in the face. Blood spewed from Virat’s mouth in an arc, splattering all over the mud.
Celina screamed, shrugging off the hands holding her back and rushing forward, throwing herself into the fray. Amay got a grip on Varun and pulled him off Virat, Ishaan helping. Celina flung herself to her knees, her frantic hands patting at him, a futile gesture to see where he was hurt.
Blood leaked from his mouth, staining his teeth and dripping down his chin. His wild, rage glazed eyes looked over her shoulder at Varun. He got to his feet, listing slightly to one side, shrugging out of Celina’s grasp and shoving her behind him.
A cut above Varun’s eyebrow dripped blood steadily down one side of his face as he glared at Virat, menace radiating from him. Celina could see fine tremors working their way through Virat. She laid a tentative hand on his back, hoping to offer comfort, support, something…But Virat shrugged it off, stepping out of her reach.
Across from them, Varun draped a hand over Dhrithi’s shoulders, dragging her forward and kissing her on her temple, blood smearing over her pale cheek at the gesture. Celina saw Amay stiffen and hoped he wasn’t going to launch himself at Varun next.
What the hell had just happened? This was not like Virat. He was always in control. Always calm, always composed. If anyone would get into a fight, it would be Ishaan. Not Virat. Never Virat.
A teacher finally made his way through the ring of spectators.
“Both of you,” he barked. “Chandrashekhar Sir’s room now.”
Varun straightened his shoulders and grinned, looking almost psychotic. He walked up to where they stood, his gaze locked with Virat’s. Dhrithi was being dragged along in his wake, stumbling to keep up. Celina made a move towards her but Virat’s hand shot out, stopping her from stepping closer.
“See you in Chandrashekhar’s office, Jha,” Varun said insolently, his shoulder knocking against Virat’s as he walked past. He winked at Celina as he crossed her. “Hey Celi.” He drawled her nickname out like he knew her well enough to call her that. “See you soon!”
A low growl emanated from Virat and he pivoted on his heel, looking to throw himself at Varun again. Celina stopped him, a hand on his chest.
“Vir, please,” she begged. “What are you doing?”
“Yeah Vir,” Varun taunted. “What are you doing?” His sing song intonation had Celina’s teeth grinding together.
“Varun,” Dhrithi murmured, from where he had her clutched to his chest. “Stop it.”
“Shut up,” he snapped at her, making her flush red with mortification.
“What the hell are you both still doing here?” The teacher from before was back, looking absolutely furious. “Move now!”
The crowd slowly dissipated as more teachers made their way over and glared at everyone. Maria Fernandez marched over to where their little group still stood. She grabbed Celina by her arm, her thin fingers pinching the soft skin of the underside of it.
“Come with me now,” she hissed, fury underlying each word.
Celina shook her off. “No.” She took a step closer to Virat.
“Celina!”
“Celi.” It was the first word Virat had spoken since she’d reached the track fields. “Go with your mom.”
She looked at him, her gaze searching his bleeding, scratched face. “But,” she said hesitantly.
“Please?” The plea in his eyes broke her, making her own fill with tears. “I’ll meet you later.”
