“Who named you Mishti?” Saahil takes the seat beside me flashing his dimples.
“My dad, ugh, I hate it. It’s so cliché. Couldn"t he have given me a spicier name like Khatta1 or Teekha2?”
Saahil laughs.
“I mean those names have more personality. Plus people who know me know that I"m not sweet at all.”
He pretends to think and nods. “You have a point.”
I push him away. “Mean.”
“What? You said that!”
I was scared it would be awkward with Saahil, after acknowledging my crush on him yesterday, but he is a dork, like me. We are a clique.
In the English period, I ask him, “Today, in the lunch break, shall we talk to Vikram?”
“Oh yes, Vikram. So, I thought about that.” He turns to me. “Mishti, do you think it’s fair for us to not even give him a chance? He might be interested in contributi
