32- The Girl Friends

                                        

                                              
Vansh Baweja was a master of pranks. Or atleast that's what he kept telling himself as he colorful stories of his youth. He often pranked on people ever since he was little and continued on till college. He even got jailed for breaking the fire alarm once, making everyone panic around him. Talk about stupidity.
My mind immediately reeled back to the bet between us when he brought a stag beetle to my desk. He did something like that in school and college as well. Guess people had their share of creepy hobbies.
Irfan being a man with a testosterone induced dick challenged Vansh to a prank. Vansh belonging to the same said species made it a mission to show off while I told them to fuck off.
So here we were, attending a lame ass seminar about balancing professional and personal life. Funny how they talked about giving importance to our personal lives while giving this lecture after office hours. The employees were forced to participate, courtesy of Mister Richard and HR. 
Time passed as slowly as a tortoise in the class when Vansh lent an ear on something interesting. 
A few minutes later. 
“Excuse me, sir,” I raised my hand like a diligent student, grabbing the unwanted attention from the class. Did I really have to do this? “I have a doubt regarding your hypothesis. May I have your permission to come over?” 
“Sure, dear.” The middle aged lecturer responded with a smile. I bet mister was glad someone was paying attention to his class. 
Everyone's eyes were glued to me as I stood in front of the class and cleared my doubts like a smartass. So far so good. Just then, I placed a hand at the side of the forehead and closed my eyes halfway. The lecturer  noticed right away. 
“Is there a problem, miss? You look pale.” 
My head wobbled, almost causing the lecturer to reach out to me, but then I steadied myself. “My- my head, sir. It's spinning. Urgh, I think I'm going to vomit.” 
The lecturer's face grew ashen. Before he could volunteer to help me out, Vansh did the honors himself. He held my left arm. “Don't worry sir, I'll take her to the washroom.” 
“Sure, please do.” 
“And I'll give her the medicine after that,” Irfan added, holding my right arm while Vansh held my other. They looked no more than kidnappers right now.  
“I think one person would be enough, Mister... Ahmed,” The lecturer said while checking out the list of names written in a file on his desk.
“But sir, I need to—” 
Irfan was interrupted by a gagging noise from me. I covered my mouth. “I don't think I can hold it any longer. Awk!”
“Oh no, no, no! Alright, take her away.” 
Followed by a snicker from Irfan. 
The lecturer shot daggers at Irfan but he was quick to save himself. “Sorry sir, it was just unwanted gas.” 
Unwanted gas? Before I could question Irfan's intellectual choice of words, he proved himself by letting out a fart. An actual fart, breaking the class into fits of laughter. Everyone except us three, who could only press our mouths to prevent us from disclosing the act.