*Pyar impossible" KriYansh SS Note: Page 3

Shoot me, I begged. Just shoot me now.

"C'mon, Kriya!" Sharon laughed, bumping her hips against me. "Dance! You look so dead; it's like you don't want to be here!" She grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I glared. "That's because I don't!"

"It's okay, Kriya, really. You don't have to hide your excitement."

I closed my eyes miserably as I bit back a groan. And I called her my best friend. I mean, it's her own fault that I was here in the first place when I can be at home doing something productive. Like, what? Reading a book? Yeah, exactly. But, no. Instead, I'm stuck here in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by grinding couples.

I know. Let's say it together everyone: ewww.

"Sharon," I said desperately, tugging her arm. She looked at me, raising an eyebrow. I inwardly snorted. Gosh, she probably thought I left to the washroom. "Can I go now?"

"What? No!"

Why not?

"We just got here five minutes ago. Are you insane?" she said, giving me a really weird look.

I shot her a look of my own.

Apparently.

I sighed, probably knowing that she's right. Plus, she was the one that drove my ass all the way to this place. She even paid for me.

After successfully dragging my resistant ass from my bedroom, that is.

I told her I didn't want to come. But did she listen? No. I told her weeks ago that I don't like dances. Hell, she knew that ever since we were born, damn it! But she still insisted. And damn me for having such a soft resolve. Just one look into her pleading, sorrowful eyes. . .

I closed my eyes. I am an idiot.

I dragged my legs towards the side of the dance floor. I grunted as I tried to push and excuse past people who just shot me scowls and glares. I replied by shooting them my own daggers and even flipping them off when they cursed my existence. Yeah, well, screw you, too.

I finally made it to the sidelines and inwardly patted myself on the back as my eyes surveyed the mob of people dancing. I snorted. Pft, if you wanted to call it that. Our generation has taken its toll and defined new, non-existent words and new definitions for other words. I don't know whether it's a good thing, or a bad thing. It depends on how you look at the world.

"Well, look who decided to show up," an amused voice said to my right.

I inwardly closed my eyes and begged for it to end. Why did it have to get worse? Why? I inhaled sharply, yet discreetly and turned my even gaze to none other than Rey, the most popular guy in the school who's so cool.

Note my emphasized sarcasm.

"Why, Rey!" I shrilled, perfectly imitating his posses and fans. Whatever, same diff. "I didn't know that you'd be here! What brings your sorry ass all the way here? I mean, you should be at home in front of the mirror practicing your smiles!"

He raised an eyebrow, obviously unperturbed by my lame act. I dropped my sweet smile and glared at him. "That meant piss off," I said.

His lips twitched. "I kind of figured."

I nodded robotically. "So take my advice."

This time he didn't bother hiding his smirk. "How about no?"

Infuriating. He was absolutely, without a trace of doubt the most infuriating man I have ever met. I felt my eyebrow twitch as I forced a smile on my face. It probably came out looking retarded and well, forced, because his smirk grew into a grin, and before I knew it, he was snickering like I said something funny.

Stupid piece of filthy scum. Was he delusional?

"I never said anything amusing," I said stiffly, averting my eyes away from his smouldering amber orbs. Screw him and his intense gaze. I had nice eyes, too damn it!

"Who said I was laughing at something concerning you?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Your beady eyes happen to be focused in my direction. The possibility that you'd be talking to someone behind me is non-existent since the wall is right behind me. Plus, when would you ever pass up the chance to make fun of my unfortunate existence, right?" I asked sarcastically.

"Exactly. You know me too well," he said.

"Unfortunately," I muttered. "Can you leave so your unsightly figure does not visually impair me for the rest of my life?"

"Unfortunately," he said, obviously mocking me, "I cannot do such a thing."

My eyes narrowed. "And why not?"

His eyes twinkled. "Because I love being in your company."

I seethed, fuming in anger. This was exactly why I loathed his ugly existence. He didn't hesitate to mock me with everything that he is, any chance he got. He pretended to be my friend the first moment, and then the next, he was being a total jackass. At other times, he's being sweet and considerate, and the next he's being a total pain in the butt.

He was bipolar with six personalities. I didn't know which one to trust.

I met his dim-witted existence in seventh grade when he transferred to my elementary school. Everyone instantly took a liking to him with his exotic eye colour, his wonderful black hair (it's black, people, get over it), his heart throbbing smiles . . .

But I saw through his faade. Deep down he was a conniving prune with one purpose in life: to make mine a living hell. I figured that in eighth grade when he began to taunt and put me down. I was pissed, to say in the least. I had thought that he was at least decent, and then his ugly being had to go and prove my ass wrong.

Phew!!!! Too much sleepy🥱 🥱 🥱..Pm later..Comment plz..If i get good response I will update otherwise😆..I m serious this time..

Ok!!! I changed the name of this SS..new title: Pyar Impossible