SS : Love Have Has It's Own Way Part 1

Part 1

"You're going to marry Mr. Kapoor's son," Priya's mother told her.

"Excuse me?" Priya exclaimed. Her black eyes widened, and her nostrils flared in anger. She already harbored a deep sense of hatred for the idea.

"Priya, do you remember my friend Krishna?" her mother asked.

"Yes, I remember her. She used to come over often and brought her son here a couple of years back," Priya said, her teeth clenched. The memory of the Kapoor boy being in her house disgusted her.

Her mother smiled and giggled behind her perfectly manicured hand. "She and I made a promise to each other a long time ago. If we both had a child of the opposite sex, we would arrange your marriage to each other. We just loved the idea of becoming in-laws."

"But I don't like the idea of him being my husband. I don't even like him," Priya said honestly. There was a time when they were younger that she liked him, but he messed it up, and she had grown to hate him again. Since then, Priya and Ram Kapoor hadn't seen each other since they were twelve.

"We've already arranged it, Priya. You're meeting them tomorrow to discuss it," her mom insisted.

"Forget it! I'm not going to marry him. I would rather be dead than be his wife," she growled, slamming her hands onto the table before storming out of the room.

The Kapoor family was having a similar conversation elsewhere.

"Do you remember Priya Sharma? You've met her numerous times," Ram Krishna Kapoor said to his son.

Ram stared at his mother blankly, vaguely remembering a girl he was forced to meet again and marry. What was her name again? He noticed his mother eyeing him.

He regarded her carefully, "So you're being serious, Mom? You want me to marry your old friend's daughter?"

She cut him off, "You're not going to marry any of these other girls you keep seeing, even if you decide to give it a try for your mom."

Ram crossed his arms and sat back in his chair before smirking, "Okay, but she better be a looker."

Just when Priya is about to destroy her room, her friend Shruti calls her. She answers the phone immediately, "Please help me!" she begs through her teeth. She doesn't sound scared, more like angry to the core—so angry she could feel it eating her from the inside out.

"Mom is being insane. She wants me to marry this guy I have known since too long ago. We haven't seen each other in a couple of years, and I'm suddenly going to be this guy's wife? Spare me the torture and shoot me in the head now!" Priya screams.

When she realizes that she has been ranting the whole time and didn't even let Shruti speak, that is when she stops. "So, how has your day been?" she asks as calmly as possible.

"Wait, slow down. Who are you talking about?" Shruti asks, barely understanding her rant.

Priya's mother sighs when she hears her daughter screaming like a madman. She must really hate Ram Kapoor. She never noticed how much she disliked him. Then again, it did explain why they got into a lot of fights when they were children. She recalls Priya breaking his nose at one point when they were seven. She even remembered that time when Ram cut a handful of Priya's hair when they were ten.

Priya sighs in frustration, "My mom arranged a marriage for me with Ram Kapoor. You know how my mom is best friends with his mom. Apparently, they made this promise way before we were born that if they had children of the opposite sex, they would get them to marry each other. Too bad I'm not going to agree with it and refuse. There is no way I'm going to be his bride," she huffs.

There she goes ranting again. How am I going to get out of this?

"Really, Ram Kapoor? Have you tried saying no or that you hate him?" Shruti asks, feeling annoyed at Priya's mother. "She can't make you marry him. I think she can, but she shouldn't," she says angrily.

"I told her I don't like the plan or him, but she already said they made the arrangements. I'm to meet him in person tomorrow about the wedding."

"But I guess all you can do now is cross your fingers and hope he's better," says Shruti reassuringly.

Priya laughs out loud. "Him? Better? Oh, my dear friend, you're funny, you know that?" She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. "But seriously, since I have no choice, I can always get on his nerves so bad that he'll have to beg our parents to divorce me. I just have to cause some mayhem," she points out, remembering all the trouble she has caused way back.

Priya looks at herself in the mirror as she talks on the phone with Shruti. She's not exactly the prettiest girl in college, but she's not bad to look at either. She's gorgeous with long hair that goes down to the middle of her back, glasses for some comfort instead of contacts, and a nice healthy-looking body thanks to cross country. She has black eyes with a beauty mark at the corner of her lips, not bad-looking. But when she marries Ram, she knows for a fact the stress and negativity are probably going to wear out her looks.

"I can bring my dog over a lot, you know how he hates dogs," Shruti says, grinning widely. "And I could help you out annoying him, maybe even show him caricatures."

"Yes, do that. I would greatly appreciate it. We're going to have loads of fun," Priya laughs. "Got to do something to keep me entertained." They talk some more, making plans on how to torture Ram Kapoor, laughing all night long. When it was time to go to sleep, Priya told her goodnight and hung up. Priya has been in her room all day; she forgot the time and missed dinner.

She isn't that hungry anyway, so she puts on her pajamas and goes to sleep, hoping the day won't end and wishing that she won't have to meet the Kapoor family.

Ram stretches his legs out in front of him on the front lawn. He had just completed his morning run and was doing some cool-down exercises, his mind drifting back to his conversation last night with his mother. He's getting married. Ram leans back and sighs, running a hand through his dark hair.

If he remembers correctly, he had cut a handful of some of his future wife's hair once. He doesn't fancy having to marry Priya of all people. She isn't his usual type, to say the least. He figures once his mom sees they can't work out, then it would be done, and he could go about his life once again.

"This is going to be such a bother," he muses to himself.

Ram picks himself off the ground and heads into the house to shower. He'll be meeting Priya later on today.

Priya opens her eyes from the long sleep, realizing it's morning. She groans and tries to sleep again, just a little longer. "It can't be morning already."

"Priya, wake up, you have to get ready," her mom calls.

"No," she groans. "I want to stay right here where I can be away from him."

Her mom barges in and pulls the covers off of her. "Get ready," she yells.

"Never mind, I'm not going to meet him," she mumbles into her pillow. Priya then hears a metallic sound, followed by cold water splashing on her.

"Fine, I'm getting up!" she yells and rushes to the shower for a nice hot bath. "Some mom you are, wanting your daughter to get a nasty cold before meeting her fiancé?" she says sarcastically, slamming the bathroom door.

Ram buttons up his shirt in front of the mirror, taking a moment to examine himself. He's a good-looking guy with brown eyes, cropped black hair, and an athletic build. His charming smile has always made girls melt. Ram has never had a problem getting a girl, and he's earned a reputation as a bit of a player.

He smiles, grabs his keys, and heads out the door. His mother went ahead to the Sharma's house, but Ram wanted to take his own vehicle just in case. He sits on his black sports bike, puts on his helmet, and starts the engine.

Fifteen minutes later, Ram pulls up at Priya's house, pretty sure that everyone inside heard his bike, something his mother detests. He sits on his bike, stares at the house, takes off his helmet, and swings a leg over the bike before trudging up the path to the front door.

"Here we go," he mutters to himself before knocking on the front door.