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The Imperial University Chronicles

May 2nd

~Tough love~

Sanjana Thapar

"Did I do this right?" I asked, pushing my notebook across to Karan Seghal, my tutor. I had two failed attempts with tutors in the last weeks. Apart from Varun, I had made a list of the top students in my classes and began going down the list. All three of them excelled in our shared classes.

Karan's eyes flicked away from mine, his demeanor suddenly awkward because I had caught him staring. "I'm sure you did," he muttered, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. As Karan scanned my work, I leaned back on the soft picnic blanket, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, perfect for literally anything, but apparently this was my life now– studying on the weekends. I glanced up at the trees, adorned with delicate white flowers and smiled because they matched my nail polish. My smile died when I saw the expression on Karan's face. "What's wrong?"

He scratched the back of his neck, appearing more flustered. "I... You..."

"I did it wrong, didn't I?" I asked with a resigned sigh. Why was this so hard?

"Yeah... kind of..." he mumbled. "You mixed up the interest rate and inflation rate, but it's a simple mistake. Anyone can make it. Don't worry. You did everything right. I should have explained it better...I-"

"Forget it. Let's just call it a day," I said, annoyed with myself.

"Maybe we can try another subject?" Karan suggested. "International marketing is interesting and I'm sure you'll like it."

I nodded and Karan pulled out his notes. He mumbled, stammered and lost his train of thoughts through his explanations. No matter how hard I tried to follow along, his words were a jumbled mess that only added to my confusion.

"Hold on..." I held up a hand to stop him. I picked up my textbook and searched through the pages till I found what I was looking for. "Here." Pointing at the word, I read out the definition, " Cross-Cultural Marketing involves adapting marketing strategies to accommodate diverse cultural preferences and behaviors, ensuring messages resonate effectively across different cultural groups. While Global Marketing, focuses on standardizing marketing efforts to achieve consistency and efficiency across various international markets, often relying on uniform branding and messaging to maximize reach and effectiveness. You said it the other way around." I felt a little proud of myself for remembering what I had read last night.

"Oh did I?" he asked, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry... I just get so nervous around you."

"Why?" I asked with a scowl.

"Nothing... I think you should just find somebody else to help you," he said abruptly, rising from his seat with a sudden urgency.

Panic gripped me as I sat up on my knees. "What? Why? Look, I'll try harder. If you want, we can take a break for a few days and try again."

"It's not you, it's me," he replied, stuffing his belongings into his backpack with frantic haste.

"We aren't dating, Karan. So don't give me the whole 'it's not you, it's me,'" I shot back, watching him struggle with the zipper of his backpack. My mind raced, searching for ways to placate him, to make him stay and continue tutoring me.

"Karan," I called out his name, my voice laced with a mix of pleading and anger. But he didn't even look back. He just ran off.

I watched helplessly as he crossed paths with my brother. He was holding the Starbucks I had asked him to get for me and Karn on his way back from the town. They exchanged a few words before Karan grabbed the drink Saksham offered and continued running

As I slumped to the ground, feeling utterly defeated, Saksham walked over with a smirk on his face. "You scared another one away?" he teased.

Ignoring his jibe, I snatched one of the two drinks from him—the cookies and crumble frappuccino, my favorite—and took two giant slurps of the sugary drink. "I'm so fucked," I muttered around the straw. "I mean... Like seriously...Why am I so dumb? I know I wasn't a star student growing up or anything, I did okay, but right now I just can't even focus."

"That was because mom was around," he said with a slight shrug, taking a seat beside me. "And so was Dad in a way."

Was it that? Did I simply give up on my academics because I thought no one cared about me or what I was doing with my life? At least Saksham stuck to his cricket. "Why do they all run away?" I asked with a sigh.

"Because they all like you," Saksham pointed out, his voice annoyingly matter-of-fact.

I rolled my eyes, frustration bubbling up. I knew that, which was why I had hoped that they would actually help me. "So? Shouldn't they want to spend time with me?"

Saksham chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you? They like you, but they're intimidated by you too. They don't just want to spend time with you—they want you to like them back, and that makes them nervous. They're afraid of messing up."

"Really?"

"Yeah guys do get intimidated by the women they like."

"Does that include you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I said some. Not me," he responded with a smirk. "Hey, isn't that your friend?"

I craned my neck to look over my shoulder. It was indeed my best friend from school. We had been inseparable since kindergarten until she decided to stab me in the back when we were 14. We were no longer friends. She looked in my direction and, even from where I was seated, I could see her giving me a small smile. Ignoring her, I focused my attention back on my brother. "She isn't my friend," I said in annoyance. "Is she gone?"

He glanced over my head and nodded. "Yeah... What's her name again?"

"Tara Rajput," I said with a sigh. I usually never had a problem with confrontations but with Tara, after our ugly fight, I ignored her and tried my best to avoid crossing paths with her. It had worked out for quite a while till she joined our university at the start of the year. She had tried to talk to me a few times but I refused to engage with her.

"I didn't know she went to our university."

"She should be in some of your classes. She's also doing something in psychology."

"Really? I haven't noticed."

I smacked his arm. "You better not notice her."

He placed his arms on his knees and leaned closer to me. "What did she do to you? You were always hanging around together, whispering in each other's ears and stirring up trouble."

"Since when did you start caring about who my friends are," I said, packing my bag with more force than necessary. "You just stay away from her," I warned. "I swear to God, Saksham if you ever go anywhere near her... I'll never forgive you."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Relax. I'm not interested in her. I was just curious."

I gave him a small nod. I trusted my brother enough.

"Did you try asking any of the girls in your class?" he asked as we walked through the park.

"Yeah. Three of them said they don't have enough time. Although one of them did give me her notes."

"And?"

"And they were helpful but I fell asleep while reading it," I confessed.

He laughed. "You need tough love."

"Tough love?"

"Yup. Apart from being intelligent, your tutor needs to be someone who can hold you accountable and won't hesitate being mean to you if needed. They also need to be disciplined and strict and keep you focused. But most importantly someone who isn't romantically interested in you. Even remotely."

"I don't know if there is anyone on this campus like that."

"I see narcissism runs in our family," he joked. Pausing, he nodded to his right where Varun was walking by himself. "Are you sure?"