Is He A She?!

That day dawned like any other day, with me racing against time to get ready for school, entertaining my sister so that she would eat, and tying my father's tie—a feat he couldn't accomplish though he was a grown man.

But unlike any other day, I never saw it coming.

Maybe it was in the eyes of my father when I brushed nonexistent dust from his suit, or maybe it was in my mother's poorly-hidden frown. My five-year-old sister was the only one, other than me, who had zero clue. But everything went down the drain during dinner that night. Literally.

Let me tell you, parents and troubled looks were always a bad combination.

Going bankrupt was something that had never crossed my mind. Having genius parents and hardworking employees meant there weren’t much reason for such negative thoughts. But no one was invincible, and that included my father. Foul play and pride... My father was in too deep before realising that it was too late.

In movies, the story of a construction company CEO who goes bankrupt because of the dirty play of a rival company trying to win the ultimate contract was a plot worthy of an entertaining drama. In movies, the bankrupt CEO would somehow face everything single-handedly, win against all odds and get his happy ending where he rides off into the sunset.

But real life worked differently.

In real life, getting bankrupt meant starting over again. In a new place, with a new job. There wouldn't be any miracles.

And that was when my dad's best friend, Vimal, came into the equation.

Some time in the past my father had helped him financially, and when he heard news about the bankruptcy, he offered to help, even though our relatives didn't even bother. But old habits die hard and even going bankrupt didn't make my father lose his pride. He wasn't a freeloader.

Parents and troubled looks were always a bad combination.

Just like going bankrupt and asking to dress as a guy were a bad combination.

Vimal-uncle had many partners but he paid immense attention to his top partner who coincidentally had a son. His parents were extremely worried about how withdrawn their son was. It seemed to go beyond being an introvert.

One offer. I had to befriend Vimal-uncle's major partner’s lone kid who studied in Vimal's school. Find out if he was using drugs or other depressing stuff, act as an inside mole, try to redeem him--or simply help him make friends and then get out of the all boys school without getting caught.

It was almost like a plot of a shoujo manga.

I was willing to sacrifice my gender in return for my father working under his best friend with “dignity.” This was a stupid deal to begin with. Let alone the fact they were brushing past the consequences.

But when push turned to shove, and you knew your father well enough to understand that he was that man who would do anything to have his head held high, you would find yourself arguing against your parents who didn't want you to sacrifice anything but who wouldn't also take up a friend's offer because that meant taking advantage of their friend. You'd find yourself agreeing to cutting your hair short, wearing a vest to conceal your femininity, and trying to copy the mannerisms of a boy. You'd find yourself getting admitted into an all boy's school as a boy, assigned to be the roommate of someone who was nothing more than a mission.

Who should be nothing more than a mission.

But like I said, real life worked differently.

And before I knew it, I was in deep, too.

I gulped audibly as I made my way through the corridor. Everywhere I turned, there were guys.

Well, what did you expect, genius? It's an all boys school after all.

Shut up.

Yeah, whatever.

Okay, so it was not like I hadn't been in the company of boys before. But I had been in a prestigious all-girls school since the beginning of high school, and I haven’t had the chance to be around older boys much since then. It made the whole concept of mimicking and fitting in that much harder. Yeah, I could make my voice go deep, but things like imitating their slang was something entirely alien to me.

I noticed that some of the guys in the corridor looked at me when I passed them. But to me, it felt like every single one of them had their hawk-like eyes plastered on my back. Maybe it was true, or maybe I was overreacting but it felt like they had excessive interest on me.

Maybe I looked girlish. Wait. Scratch that. I always looked girlish. Maybe I looked way too girlish to be here.

I corrected my necktie and nervously ran a hand through my hair as I sped to the school's office.

I was five foot five, which was normal for a girl. But for a guy, it was short. Like, very short. And all the boys around me in the corridor looked very tall. The minimum height I noticed was something like five foot eight. Or something like that, I was not that great at guessing people’s heights. What really mattered was this: I was short, they were tall. Screw the measurements.

After walking through all the corridors I could find, I was a little annoyed.

This is a school. Why isn't the head office somewhere easy to find? And Uncle could've at least sent someone to pick me up. This place is just humongous.

And then it struck me.

The plan was to lay low, befriend this so-called moody guy, make him into a social butterfly, and then, get the hell out of this ridiculous place. If I was escorted to the office by an official, the students would certainly notice, which would be the exact opposite of laying low.

I sighed.

At last I ended up in front of a big room with a sign reading OFFICE above the door. And when I saw where that room was, I wanted to slap myself. The office was near another entrance to the school. The east wing. I had been simply walking in circles, so I had missed it.

Inside the office, I was at once showed to the school's Chairman's--Uncle’s--room.

It was a well-furnished room and when I entered, I found Vimal-uncle behind a huge mahogany desk. His reading glasses were sitting on the top of his nose. There were numerous trophies, shields, and other things proudly displayed in a glass case which occupied one side of the room. The room seemed to scream power and wealth. Which made sense, since this was one of the most prestigious boys schools in the area.

Vimal-uncle looked up from the files he was looking into when I cleared my throat. At once his face broke down into a goofy grin that seemed so out of place in the fancy room. "Uthra," he said as his eyes ran up and down over my body. "Not bad. You actually look like a boy!"

I smiled. That kind of compliment shouldn't make a girl happy. But it made me feel proud. At least I looked manly. Okay, I went overboard there. I looked boyish.

But Uncle's face turned grave eventually, all the playfulness completely swept off his wrinkled face. "Uthra, it's not too late to change your mind. Your father has signed a two-year contract saying that he'd render his service as the chief of the marketing department. So even if you withdraw now, I can... force him to work for me using the contract." Uncle gave a sheepish grin and I couldn't help but flash a tiny smile back. Good to have friends like this. "So you can quit even now dearie," Vimal-uncle said. But the more he talked about quitting, the more this crazy plan sounded appealing.

Oh my god.

Did I just say appealing?

Stupid brain, stupid brain. Thinking stupid things. For a moment it gave me a heart attack.

I smiled as confidently as I could at Uncle. "I know this plan is plainly crazy, impractical, and has many difficult aspects. But what really could happen? You are this school's owner and even if it's hard for me, I can come out of this. Simple."

Uncle simply nodded, giving me a weak smile. After about fifteen minutes, I was walking out of Uncle's room. He told me about how things worked at the school, about the dorm, but mainly… he told me about my roommate.

Now there was no turning back.

*

*

*

Finding my classroom wasn't as hard as finding the office. Here we all had fixed classrooms and didn't have to move to respective classrooms for each period. The teachers came to us.

When I reached the class assigned to me, all the students seemed to be already in their places. A stout man with a bald head was standing at the center of the class, talking about something. His face was nearly hidden beneath the humongous black-rimmed glasses he was wearing. But his eyes seemed to be unusually sharp behind his glasses. To put it bluntly, he reminded me of a bald, glasses-wearing, Indian version of Professor Snape. And that was disturbing. Very, very disturbing.

I guess he was my homeroom teacher.

Even before I could open my mouth and announce my presence, all the heads in the classroom, including the teacher's, turned to look at me. And let me tell you, that was scary. Like, horror film level scary.

The teacher did not say anything but simply cocked his left eyebrow.

What the hell...?

He looked at me with no expression and eventually the small voice at the back of my head figured out that he wanted me to introduce myself.

"Um..." I dragged the word out as long as possible. What should I say, again?

"Yes?" the man asked through gritted teeth. Why would he be this angry for no reason?

I shook my head and took a deep breath. "Sir... I'm a... transfer student," I said hesitantly.

I seriously didn't know what else to say. Normally teachers would smile and initiate the first question when the student was new, but this man was not helping much.

All the eyes on me felt like needles piercing through my skin and I internally winced.

"Introduce yourself," the teacher ordered before he went and stood behind his desk.

I swallowed. "Hi," I said lamely. Do boys even introduce themselves like this?

"I—I'm Uthra," I stuttered pathetically and a few boys snickered.

Way to go, Uthra. This is how you make an impression.

I glanced back at the teacher since in the universal language, I've introduced myself.

His emotionless face turned into a frown. "Former school?" he muttered, and I froze.

Aw crap.

I can't say my former school's name. It was a renowned all girls school for God's sake!

What to do? What to do?! WHAT TO DO!?!

"SKVG," I blurted out, and this time the teacher raised both his eyebrows.

"Does this school really exist?" he asked and I panicked.

Does he already know I'm a girl?

I nodded and shook my head. Sweat trickled down my forehead and I couldn't pinpoint what expression my face was showing. Did I look like a cat that got caught stealing milk?

People, by now, would be thinking I was some sort of klutz. I bet it more or less looked like I was rotating my head.

In the background I heard boisterous laughter and some whispered comments.

I seriously knew how to mess things up. Yay me!

I smiled weakly. "It, er, it is just a small town school," I lied pathetically.

If he asks the name of the town, I'll certainly die of a heart attack. What is wrong with this guy? First he does not welcome me. Now he seems to enjoy my stupidity.

"Which town?" He raised his brow mockingly and a small smirk was plastered on his face. Was he really a teacher? I swallowed and tried to wipe my sweaty hands on the sides of my pants. Seriously, why did I think of coming to this place in the first place?

The teacher's smirk grew.

Oh how I'd love to smack that smirk of his from his damn face.

"Uh... " I dragged.

Suddenly some voice dragged me from my hyperventilating mind.

"Sir, I think the introduction part is enough. That guy looks like he'll pass out any second."

I glanced up at the direction of the sound to see a tall boy standing there.

Why the hell were all the guys in this school this tall? I mean, was it like a requirement?

He walked steadily to the front and stopped before me.

"Hi," he said, bumping my fist with his. "The name's Ryan. Class President."

"Uthra... " I dragged, unsure "... transfer student?"

He laughed aloud as if that was the biggest joke he had heard. Was that even funny? And wasn't he even aware of Professor Snape standing there and watching us like a hawk?

"You're funny," the guy said with a finality.

Judgemental idiot.

I'm not funny, okay? I'm just nervous so I'm spouting out nonsense which looks comedic to this boy.

"Should I say thanks?" I asked dryly but Ryan just chuckled, shaking his head.

"Ryan, could you show him to his seat?" Professor Snape said, his voice emphasising “him.”

My heart shuddered at the way he uttered the word “him,” and just like that, I knew something was certainly not right about this doppelganger of Snape. I had to talk to Uncle about this guy. I could somehow feel that he had already figured out my secret.

I did not glance at any student as Ryan led me to the back of the class. I was shown the blank space beside a guy who was sleeping, his head resting on his arms. A guy sleeping while the teacher was in the classroom. Great.

Just great.

"Don't mind him," Ryan whispered and smiled before going back to his place.

All the benches were two-seaters.

I glanced at the boy beside me as I sat down. And I couldn't help but notice his hair. It was black. Not the usual black that was common. I mean, it was just pitch black but I don't know, it was... it was... different.

Oh seriously, screw my vocabulary. It needs a major update.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, I looked up to notice most of the class peeking at me. I glared. Where were we? Primary school? I was just a new kid and I embarrassed the hell out of myself a few minutes ago. Still they wanted to look at me like I was a new creature on the face of earth?

They all turned around when they sensed my glare. Normally I was a calm, happy being. But today I felt very frustrated. My mind was automatically making snarky remarks for each and every thing that irritated me.

I sighed. Get a grip, Uthra.

My angry thoughts were interrupted by a groan. I looked at the boy beside me. He mumbled something incoherent as he rubbed his eyes. His hands froze when he saw me. "Why are you sitting here?"

To say I was startled would be an understatement. His voice sounded low, dry, and cold. The perfect combination while talking to a new person. Such a cheerful tone. I raised my head defensively. "I was assigned to this seat," I said flatly.

He simply shrugged before turning to the front. He took out the respective books needed for the first class and I took out mine. I couldn't help but glance at him yet he never acknowledged me, not even once. Oh, what a great bench partner!

I just hoped that my so-called moody roommate wasn’t like this.

*

*

*

I walked through the unfamiliar corridor, looking for the dorm head.

There were guys walking everywhere. Some were talking, some were laughing. I was shoved back by two guys who ran past me and shirtless guys were standing here and there. In short, that place was in complete chaos.

I heaved a relieved and grateful sigh when I saw a sign reading DORM HEAD over a plain-looking room. I nearly barged into the room. There were two guys inside. One was lying on the bed and the other was perched on the single study table in the room. "Who's the dorm head?" I asked dryly, looking at the two guys.

"It's me," the guy on the desk answered. His lips were stretched up in a big, warm and friendly grin. I didn't grin back. I think the stress was getting to me. I’m never this snappy.

"I want to know my room number," I said. For the moment, I wanted to just lock myself in my room and rest in peace. Too many boys and and too much crudity for one day. I didn't think I could handle any more for now.

"And you are?" the dorm head asked, cocking his eyebrow, still grinning at me widely.

"Uthra," I replied curtly. The dorm head looked at me with yet another amused grin before taking a big binder and running his still smiling eyes over it. How the hell does this guy manage to look warm and cheerful with nothing but a small smile? I was impressed. Like, really impressed.

"Year?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Eleventh," I muttered. C'mon, don't they have computers? It would be easier that way.

He nodded and his eyes once again skimmed the binder. "236," he finally said, looking up from the binder. I didn't know if I was imagining it or not, but when his eyes met mine, they seemed to be glinting. Weird.

"Rohan's room?" asked the other guy lazily from his position on the bed. "Rohan, Uthra," he mused, chuckling. Okay, now this was double weird. Was my roommate really bad enough to get this reaction? Looked like my mission was going to end even before it started. I slapped myself mentally. Seriously Uthra, “mission”? Is this a secret agent film? You're pathetic.

"And by the way," the dorm head said loudly, clapping his hands. His eyes were warm as he glanced at me, a genuine smile plastered across his face. "I'm Hrithik, the Dorm Head, the School President, Twelfth." I simply nodded. But Hrithik-anna did not seem to mind my coldness. "And this useless guy here is Karan, my fellow mate."

"Where is my room key?" I asked after nodding curtly at the other guy, Karan or whatever.

"Not much for a conversation, huh?" Hrithik-anna grinned.

All the tiredness from my first day at a new school and the bitterness I was feeling after sitting beside an almost comatose, nameless guy--it had all built up in me over the course of the day, and now it overwhelmed me with a very strong force. "Look," I spit out acidically, "you're being nice to the new kid and I appreciate that. But I'm not really in the mood to stand here chatting nonsense. Just give me the damn key and I'll be off."

Hrithik-anna's smile stayed intact but I’d venture that he looked even more amused. But the other guy let out a whistle. "Tough for a shortie, aren't ya?" he asked as he slowly steadied himself from his horizontal position.

"Who said short guys can't be tough?" I asked defensively.

"Me." He chuckled mockingly.

Before I could answer him with some snarky remark, Hrithik-anna tapped my shoulder and gave me a small key with the numbers 236 embedded on it. "Here is your key," he said patiently, as if talking to a small child who was being difficult.

Was I being difficult?

"Your luggage has been already taken to your room," he said mildly. Not knowing what else to say, I simply nodded and almost sprinted out of the dorm head's room. "Interesting kid," I heard Hrithik-anna's voice say in the distance.

"Yeah, yeah. He is interestingly short." The incredulous voice of the other guy didn't escape my ears too. And I did what I always do.

I sighed.

My room was in the second floor of the dorm. The room was normal. Nothing flashy or anything. Just a small and compact rectangle. There were two cots side by side and had about two feet in between them. There were two small cupboards, one completely filled and the other completely empty. The bed closer to the entrance was neatly made. Not even a single wrinkle was visible. Didn't know delinquents made beds this nice. The bathroom was a small portion in the foremost corner of the room. Not bad.

I stretched my hands and set to work. I took my things from my duffel bags and suitcases and arranged them in their respective places. As I took my books, something fell at my feet. I looked down to see my prize possession. My photo album. Why the hell would my mother pack it along with the books? Did she want someone to find out that I was a girl that badly?

I took the album and opened it. My eyes rested on the picture of a black-eyed girl. Her long hair was pulled into a high ponytail which flowed past her waist. A pretty girl with brown bangs and a messy side braid had her arms around the black-eyed girl's neck. On the other side of the black-eyed girl, a guy with a quiff had his hand resting on the shoulders of the pretty girl. He was grinning widely. I smiled as I looked at my two best friends, Ayisha and Jeremy. Yeah, though I said best friends, Jeremy was my unofficial fiancé. It has been that way since we were small. But we weren't unhappy about it. Because we both liked each other, so, naturally, it became a win-win situation.

Jeremy's name wasn't really Jeremy. It was actually Danuj. But since we were young, I had liked the name Jeremy. I wanted to call his first pet goldfish Jeremy, but he didn't let me. The same for his pet squirrel and all the other pets that followed. Once when we were nine, I broke down, very upset that he wouldn’t let me name anything Jeremy, when a very annoyed Danuj let me call him Jeremy. Don't ask me why I was obsessed with the name Jeremy. I just was. Thinking back now, it was very silly. But at that time I was the most happiest person in the whole world. Now calling Danuj Jeremy had become a habit. Sometimes I forgot that his real name was Danuj.

Unlike Jeremy and me, who had known each other all of our lives, I met Ayisha only during middle school. She isn't your typical super understanding and caring best friend, and she is not the type of girl everyone's fond of. But there was something between us that just clicked, and we bonded like sodium and chloride. I loved her and I knew she loved me, too, though she never showed it well.

I looked at the photo one more time before shoving it under all the piles of clothes. Though I’d constantly changed schools during my primary schooling, I’d stayed in one place for the whole of my middle school years. But after tenth grade I changed schools to pursue my dreams more effectively, even though I was financially well-off and could afford any course I wanted. Ayisha and Jeremy stayed at my former school. It had been a while since I’d last seen them, and I missed them.

I seriously couldn't imagine how they'd react when they found out my family had gone bankrupt. Of course, Jeremy would've known by now since our families are connected both by friendly connections and business. I just hoped they didn't pity me. That would be very embarrassing. But they were my best friends. They'd understand and support me.

A sudden creak pulled me back from my thoughts. I turned back to the door to see a very tall guy standing there. Taller than Ryan or the Dorm Head. He was easily a head taller than me and the aura around him would make anyone stay away from him. Seeing his face, I wanted to slap myself across my own face.

Aw shit. He was the guy I shared my bench with. My bench partner, my roommate... my mission. My mind couldn’t let go of the idea that I was living a secret agent film, apparently. This guy? Great. Just great. Oh, kill me now.