AYESHA POV

Saturday mornings were supposed to be peaceful.

At least that's what I thought while lying upside down on my bed, scrolling through Instagram reels with absolutely no intention of moving for the next hour.

The fan above me was spinning lazily, the summer heat had already started making the room feel like an oven, and honestly? School was the last thing I wanted to think.

A reel popped up on my screen, and I laughed quietly before sending it to Aashi.

Just as I was about to scroll again, my bedroom door opened.

I didn't even have to look up.

Mummy.

The footsteps alone were enough.

"Ayesha," she called from the doorway.

"Hmm?" I answered absentmindedly, still looking at my phone.

"So you're not going to school today?"

I shrugged without looking up. "It's Saturday, Mummy. Nothing important happens on Saturdays anyway."

For two seconds, there was silence.

Dangerous silence.

The kind that every Indian child immediately recognizes.

I slowly lowered my phone.

Mummy was standing with her arms crossed.

Not a good sign.

"Nothing important?" she repeated.

I immediately regretted my choice of words.

"No, I mean-"

Before I could explain, she cut me off.

"Do you know who went to school today?"

I already knew where this conversation was going.

And somehow that made it worse.

"Your cousin went."

There it was.

Of course.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Mummy-"

"No, listen to me first," she interrupted sharply. "She studies seriously. She understands that Class 11 is important. She doesn't sit at home scrolling reels all day."

I pressed my lips together.

The comparison had started.

Again.

It always started with one person.

Then another.

Then another.

Soon the entire population of the city would somehow be doing better than me.

I put my phone down beside me.

"I just missed one day."

"One day becomes two days. Two days become ten days. Then people wonder why they aren't successful."

I looked away.

The irritation was slowly building inside me.

Not because she was scolding me.

Because she wasn't listening.

"I know how to study."

"Oh, really?" she asked sarcastically. "Because from what I can see, you're very busy watching reels."

The sarcasm hit harder than I expected.

I hated that tone.

That tone that made me feel like every single thing I did was wrong.

I sat up straight on the bed.

"Mummy, I just woke up."

"And your cousin woke up, got ready, and went to school."

There it was again.

My cousin.

My cousin.

My cousin.

At this point, I was convinced she was secretly running the country.

Because apparently she was perfect at everything.

I looked down at my hands.

The frustration was now turning into something else.

Something heavier.

"You think I don't care about studies?" I asked quietly.

Mummy sighed.

The disappointed kind.

And somehow that hurt more than shouting.

"Ayesha, sometimes I feel like you don't understand how serious life is."

The words weren't loud.

They weren't even particularly harsh.

But they landed directly where it hurt.

For a second, I couldn't say anything.

Because the truth was...

I did understand.

More than people thought.

I knew Class 11 was important.

I knew science wasn't easy.

I knew everyone expected things from me.

I knew I wasn't the topper.

I knew teachers already thought I couldn't do it.

And hearing all of that from school was already enough.

Hearing it at home too...

That was exhausting.

Mummy shook her head and turned towards the door.

"You can do whatever you want," she said before leaving. "But don't complain later if you fall behind."

The door closed.

And suddenly the room felt a lot quieter.

I looked at my phone.

The reel was still playing.

Somehow it wasn't funny anymore.

The laughter I had a few minutes ago had disappeared completely.

I stared at the ceiling.

Maybe I should have gone.

Maybe staying home wasn't worth it.

Maybe everybody was right.

Maybe I was wasting time.

The thought made my chest feel strangely heavy.

I hated this feeling.

The feeling that no matter what I did, I was always one step behind everyone else.

I picked up my phone again, opened Instagram, stared at the screen for a few seconds, and then locked it.

For the first time that morning, I didn't feel like scrolling anymore.

The entire morning had been ruined.

One minute I was peacefully scrolling reels, and the next minute I was apparently the most irresponsible student in the entire city.

My phone vibrated beside me.

Aashi.

The moment I saw her name, I picked it up.

Aashi: Kya kar rahi hai?

I immediately typed back.

Me: Abhi abhi Mummy ki daant kha kar nikli hoon. Life barbaad hai.

A few seconds later, another message appeared.

Aashi: Call kar sakti hai?

I glanced toward the living room.

Big mistake.

Mummy was still there.

If she heard me laughing on call after her lecture, I would get another one.

Without wasting another second, I quietly slipped out of the house and went straight to the front gate.

The afternoon heat hit me instantly.

"Wonderful," I muttered. "Ghar ke andar daant pad rahi hai, bahar tandoor bana hua hai."

I leaned against the gate and called Aashi.

The call connected immediately.

"Bata," I said dramatically. "Please tell me something good. Aaj mera mood already kharab hai."

For a second, Aashi stayed quiet.

Then she said casually, "Ankit Thakur has just sent me a follow request."

I froze.

"What?!"

My voice was so loud that a passing uncle actually looked at me.

I lowered my volume immediately.

"What do you mean follow request bheji hai?" I whispered-yelled. "Bhai, I already told you woh tujhe pasand karta hai!"

A smile automatically spread across my face.

I felt ridiculously proud of myself.

Detective Ayesha Sharma had once again been proven correct.

Aashi laughed softly on the other side.

"Accha, Miss Detective."

I immediately sat up straighter.

"Follow back kiya?"

"Haan."

I grinned.

"Good."

There was a small pause.

"But..."

I narrowed my eyes.

"But what?"

Aashi hesitated.

"I don't know. Thoda sa immature lagta hai."

For two seconds, I genuinely thought I had heard wrong.

"Immature?"

"Yup."

"Tu usse jaanti bhi nahi."

"I know, but..."

"Toh phir kaise immature?"

Aashi sighed.

"I'm not judging. His face just looks a little younger."

I almost smacked my forehead.

"Bro."

"What?"

"We've done a whole investigation. You got a crush. The guy is sending a request. And your concern is that his face looks a little younger?"

Aashi started laughing.

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

"Honestly, you guys have a whole different level of problems."

"Shut up."

"No seriously. If it were me, I would talk to him first."

"Easy for you to say."

Before I could reply, Aashi suddenly gasped.

"Ayesha."

"Kya hua?" I asked.

"Aaya hai."

My eyes widened instantly.

"Kya aaya hai?"

"Uska message."

I straightened so fast that I almost dropped my phone.

"What?"

Aashi's voice had become noticeably nervous.

"He just texted."

My excitement immediately doubled.

"Kya likha hai?"

There was a pause.

Then she answered.

"...Hi."

For a second, I stared at absolutely nothing.

Then I burst out laughing.

"HI?!"

"Ayesha!"

"Arre toh baat kar na usse!"

"I don't know what to say."

I could literally hear the panic in her voice.

I grinned.

The panic made it ten times funnier.

"Aashi."

"Hmm?"

"You were telling me that he looks immature."

"Yeah."

"And right now you're panicking because somebody texted you 'hi'."

"..."

"..."

"Shut up." She said.

I laughed so hard that I had to hold the gate for support.

For the first time all morning, I had completely forgotten about Mummy's lecture.

After hanging up the call, I walked back inside the house with a stupid smile on my face.

Aashi's love life was suddenly becoming more interesting than my own life.

Honestly, it wasn't even my love story, but I was more excited than the actual people involved.

I threw myself onto the bed and picked up my phone again.

Instinctively, I opened Wattpad.

One book.
Second book.
Third book.

I kept scrolling.

Reading descriptions.
Opening chapters.
Closing them again.

Nothing was holding my attention.

Usually, whenever I was bored, Wattpad was my escape.

But today, for some reason, every story felt the same.

The perfect girl.

The obsessed boy.

The accidental eye contact.

The boy who only looked at her.

The boy who remembered every little thing about her.

The boy who chose her.

Always her.

I stared at the screen.

Then slowly locked my phone.

The room became quiet.
Too quiet.

And suddenly that excitement from a few minutes ago wasn't there anymore.

I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling.

Aashi had a boy following her.

Kiara had people liking her.

Even in school, people noticed them.

But me?

I didn't know.

Maybe people liked me.

Maybe people had crushes.

I wasn't saying nobody had ever talked to me.

They had.

But it never felt like that.

Never felt special.
Never felt real.

Most boys would talk for a few days.
Flirt a little.
Throw compliments around like confetti.
Then disappear.

And somehow that hurt more.

Because I didn't want random attention.

I didn't want someone to call me pretty for two days and then move on to the next girl.

I wanted something stupid.

Something unrealistic.

Something straight out of the books I kept reading.

I wanted somebody to choose me.

Not for one day.

Not for one week.

But completely.

The kind of person who would remember the smallest details.

The kind of person who would notice when I was upset even when I was laughing.

The kind of person who would look at a crowded room and still search for me first.

The kind of love everyone called impossible.

A small laugh escaped me.

"God, Ayesha," I whispered to myself. "You're actually delusional."

But the laugh disappeared quickly.

Because deep down...

I wasn't joking.

I really wanted that.

And maybe that was the problem.

Maybe everybody else was okay with casual crushes.

Casual talking stages.
Casual relationships.

But I wasn't.

If somebody came into my life, I wanted them to stay.

And maybe life didn't work like that.

My eyes burned unexpectedly.

I blinked once.

Then twice.

But the tears came anyway.

I quickly wiped them away.

Stupid.

It was such a stupid thing to cry about.

Nobody had done anything wrong.

Nobody owed me attention.

Nobody owed me love.

Yet the feeling stayed.

That ugly little feeling I never talked about.

The feeling that maybe...

Maybe I wasn't the girl people chose.

Maybe I was always the friend.

The girl helping her best friend reply to messages.

The girl getting excited over someone else's love story.

The girl cheering from the sidelines.

But never the main character.

A fresh tear slipped down my cheek.

I immediately wiped it away before anyone could see.

Then I looked toward the ceiling again.

"Forget it," I muttered quietly.

Maybe some girls got their Wattpad moments.

Maybe some girls got boys who waited years for them.

Maybe some girls got love stories.

And maybe I was just meant to read them.

I pulled the blanket over my face and closed my eyes.

Aashi POV

The moment Ayesha hung up, I looked back at my screen.

My chat with Ankit was still open.

And right at the bottom was that stupid little message.

Hi.

I don't know why I was staring at it like it was some life-changing event.

It was literally one word.
Three letters.
That's it.

But somehow my brain had decided to make it a national issue.

Taking a deep breath, I typed back.

Hello.

I pressed send.

And then immediately threw my phone beside me.

"Bas," I muttered to myself. "Reply kar diya. Ab jo hoga dekha jayega."

Three seconds later, I picked the phone up again.

Five minutes passed.

Nothing.

I frowned.

Okay.

Interesting.

So now Mr. Follow Request wanted to disappear.

Very nice.

I was just about to put my phone down when the screen lit up.

Ankit: What are you doing? Didn't go to school today?

A smile appeared on my face before I could stop.

Me: Nope. It was Saturday. I wasn't in the mood to go.

Almost instantly his reply came.

Ankit: Fair enough. But you'll come to tuition, right?

I laughed softly.

Me: Obviously. Tuition toh aana hi padega. Unfortunately.

Ankit: Good.

I stared at that one word for a second.

Why did "good" sound so suspicious?

Before I could think too much, another message appeared.

Ankit: Your school is MS, right?

Me: Yeah. How do you know?

Ankit: Just guessed.

Me: And yours?

Ankit: Suditi.

Fair enough.

The conversation was normal.

Simple.

Comfortable.

And honestly?

That made it easier.

I hated forced flirting.

I hated those boys who started calling girls "baby" after two days.

At least he wasn't doing that.

Then another message appeared.

And this time I almost choked.

Ankit: By the way... you look at me in tuition too.

My eyes widened.

I immediately sat up straighter.

The audacity.

Me: Excuse me? I think you're imagining things.

Ankit: Am I?

Ankit: Then why does your short friend keep staring at me every five minutes?

I frowned.

Then it clicked.

Kiara.

Of course.

Who else?

Me: Kiara?

Ankit: Haan. Especially pichhle 3-4 din se.

I stared at the message.

Then rolled my eyes.

Of course.

Suddenly every conversation from the last few days replayed in my head.

Ankit this.

Ankit that.

Ankit aaj aaya?

Ankit ne cap pehni thi?

Ankit kahan baitha tha?

Ankit kya kar raha tha?

I hadn't paid much attention before.

But now that he had pointed it out...

It was actually kind of annoying.

Why was Kiara more interested in my situation than I was?

I shook my head and ignored the thought.

Instead, I typed back.

Me: That's Kiara.And trust me, she notices everything.

Ankit: Yeah, I've noticed that too.

I shook my head before typing.

Me: See? You only know all this because you're looking too.

Ankit: Yeah. I noticed you.

I froze.

Ankit: I noticed you on the first day.

I frowned.

Me: What?

Ankit: You were sitting on the first bench near the corner.

Another message.

Ankit: Second day too.

Another.

Ankit: Third day you shifted to the middle row.

I stared at the screen.

Me: Why do you remember all that?

A few seconds passed.
Then his reply appeared.

Ankit: I don't know. I just noticed.

And somehow that simple answer made me smile more than it should have.

I was still staring at his last message when another notification popped up.

Ankit: Can I be honest?

I narrowed my eyes.

That sentence alone was dangerous.

Me: Depends.

Ankit: That's not how honesty works.

A laugh escaped me.

Me: Fine. Go ahead.

For almost a minute, there was no reply.

I was beginning to think he had changed his mind when his message finally appeared.

Ankit: The first day I noticed you because you were pretty.

My thumb froze over the screen.

What?

Before I could even process it, another message arrived.

Ankit: The second day I thought maybe it was just because you stood out.

And then another.

Ankit: The third day I realized I was literally looking for you when I entered the class.

My heartbeat picked up.

Way too fast.

Me: Wow.

Me: That sounds suspiciously like flirting.

The reply came instantly.

Ankit: No.

Me: Liar.

Ankit: I'm serious.

Me: You just called me pretty.

Ankit: Because you are.

I stared at the screen.

Then stared some more.

The worst part?

He wasn't even trying to make it sound smooth.

He was saying it so casually that I didn't know how to react.

Me: You're definitely flirting.

Ankit: And you're definitely overthinking.

I rolled my eyes.

Typical.

Me: So if I randomly tell a guy he's handsome, that's not flirting?

A few seconds passed.

Ankit: Depends on the guy.

I groaned.

Actually groaned.

Me: See? That's flirting.

Ankit: No, that's called having eyes.

I dropped my head back against the wall.

The audacity.
Absolute audacity.

A smile was already forming on my face and I hated that he couldn't even see it.

Then another message appeared.

Ankit: Anyway, I think you're cute when you're annoyed.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Me: Excuse me?

Ankit: See?

Ankit: Exactly that.

This guy was way too smooth.

There had to be a catch.

My fingers moved across the keyboard.

Me: Be honest. Do you talk like this to every girl?

For a moment, there was no reply.

Then

Ankit: Talk like what?

I rolled my eyes.
The audacity.

Me: Like this.

Me: Calling girls pretty. Cute. Noticing where they sit.

Me: That kind of stuff.

The typing indicator appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Then his reply came.

Ankit: No.

Me: I don't believe you.

A laughing emoji appeared.

Ankit: Why?

Me: Because you sound experienced.

The second I sent it, I regretted it.

But it was too late now.

Seen.

A few seconds later, his reply appeared.

Ankit: Experienced?

Ankit: That's a creative way of calling me a playboy.

A laugh escaped me.

Okay.

At least he got the hint.

Me: If the shoe fits...

This time his reply came instantly.

Ankit: And what if it doesn't?

I bit back a smile.

Me: Then prove it.

There was a pause.

A longer one this time.

Then

Ankit: You know, you're impossible to impress.

Me: Good.

Me: People should earn it.

For a second, there was nothing.

Then his message appeared.

Ankit: Fair enough.

Ankit: But seriously, not every girl is as pretty as you.

I froze.

Again.

What was wrong with this boy?

Me: See?

Me: You're doing it again.

Ankit: Doing what?

Me: Flirting.

Ankit: Or maybe I'm just saying what I think.

I stared at the screen.

That answer was somehow worse.

Because if he was flirting, I could ignore it.

If he meant it...

That was different.

Me: You know that's exactly what flirting is called, right?

A reply came almost immediately.

Ankit: No.

Ankit: Flirting is saying things you don't mean.

Ankit: I mean every word.

I was still trying to recover from his last message when a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Maybe the reason he was so smooth was because he had done this before.

The suspicion returned immediately.

Me: Wait a minute.

Me: Are you in a relationship?

The reply came after a few seconds.

Ankit: No.

I narrowed my eyes.

Too quick.
Too simple.

Suspicious.

Me: That's exactly what people in relationships say.

A laughing emoji appeared.

Ankit: And what do single people say?

Me: The same thing.

Ankit: Then how am I supposed to defend myself?

I couldn't help laughing.

Fair point.

Still, I wasn't letting him escape that easily.

Me: You seem very experience. You have a suspiciously good habit of saying the right things.

Me: So either you have a girlfriend. Or you've practiced this on half the town.

A full minute passed.

Then his reply appeared.

Ankit: Neither.

Ankit: I genuinely haven't found anyone.

For some reason, that answer felt honest.

Not dramatic.

Not fake.

Just honest.

I looked at the screen for a second before typing again.

Me: Seriously?

Ankit: Seriously.

Ankit: And you?

My fingers paused above the keyboard.

Then I typed.

Me: No.

Ankit: No boyfriend?

Me: No boyfriend.

Ankit: Hard to believe.

I rolled my eyes.

Here we go again.

Me: Why?

His reply came almost instantly.

Ankit: Because there are probably ten guys obsessed with you already.

I actually laughed.

If only he knew.

Me: Being obsessed and having feelings are two different things.

A few seconds later-

Ankit: Explain.

I smiled.

Typical.

Me: Just because someone likes me doesn't mean I automatically have to like them back.

Me: That's not how feelings work.

Me: If it worked like that, I would've been in ten relationships by now.

A laughing emoji appeared.

Then another.

Ankit: Fair enough.

Ankit: So you're picky.

Me: I prefer the word selective.

Ankit: Same thing.

Me: No. Selective sounds classy.

Ankit: And picky sounds accurate.

I immediately sat up.

Me: Wow.

Me: That was rude.

Ankit: That was honest.

Me: You're becoming annoying.

Ankit: Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you.

A smile escaped me despite my best efforts.

Ankit: Anyway, I should go now

Ankit: We'll meet in tuition.

I stared at the message.

A smile immediately pulled at my lips.

Me: Meet?

Almost instantly, his reply appeared.

Ankit: Okay, Madam.We'll see each other in tuition.

Ankit: Better?

A laugh escaped me.

Me: Much better.

Ankit: Good.See you then.

And just like that, the conversation ended.
The typing indicator disappeared.
No more messages came.

For a few seconds, I kept staring at the screen anyway.

Then I locked my phone and dropped it beside me.

"...Weird."
I muttered the word to myself before falling back onto my bed.

I groaned and covered my face with a pillow.
"Control yourself, Aashi."

The pillow definitely didn't answer.
Unfortunately.

I pulled it away and stared at the ceiling.

The thing was..

I still didn't know what to think about Ankit.

One part of me thought he seemed nice.
Funny.
Easy to talk to.

The other part of me was convinced he was a complete flirt.

Because nobody was naturally that smooth.

The way he talked.
The way he answered.
The way he remembered small details.

Either he genuinely paid attention...

Or he had years of experience doing this.

And somehow, the second option felt more believable.

"Playboy," I declared to the empty room.

Then I paused.

"...A polite playboy."
Another pause.

"...A funny playboy."

I immediately sat up.

"No."

I pointed at myself.
"No defending him."

This was exactly how girls got trapped.

First they said he's funny.
Then they said he's sweet.
Then suddenly they were writing his name in notebooks.

Not happening ever.

AUTHOR POV

The sun was still blazing above their heads when Ujjwal parked his bike outside the coaching.

There were still almost fifteen minutes left before the class started, which was unusual because neither he nor Ankit had ever voluntarily arrived this early.

Ankit looked around at the nearly empty lane before turning suspicious eyes toward Ujjwal.

"Bhai, why exactly are we here so early?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Ujjwal didn't even bother looking up from his phone. "What's the problem?" he asked casually, pretending to scroll through something important. "Being early isn't a crime."

"Being early isn't," Ankit replied immediately, folding his arms across his chest. "But you being early definitely feels suspicious."

A smile tugged at the corner of Ujjwal's lips, but he quickly hid it.

"I just thought we'd come early today."

"Really?" Ankit narrowed his eyes. "Because in the entire week I've known you, you've never once said those words."

Ujjwal finally looked up and gave him an unimpressed stare.

"People change."

"Not overnight."

"They do."

"Not you."

The conversation ended there for exactly three seconds.

Then Ankit smirked.

"Dekh bhai," he said, shaking his head dramatically, "I know exactly what happened yesterday."

Ujjwal instantly looked away.

"Nothing happened yesterday."

"Yellow top."

The answer came so quickly that Ujjwal almost laughed.

"What yellow top?"

Ankit stared at him as if he'd just committed a crime.

"You're actually trying this?"

"Trying what?"

"The memory-loss act."

"I genuinely don't know what you're talking about."

Ankit let out a laugh and pointed a finger toward him.

"Yesterday you were staring at that girl as if the rest of the coaching had disappeared."

Ujjwal immediately scoffed.

"You're imagining things."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

Ankit's grin only widened.

The worst part was that Ujjwal knew exactly who he was talking about.

The yellow top.

The loud laugh.

The girl who looked completely unbothered by the fact that half the colony could hear her laughing.

Unfortunately, admitting that would only make Ankit worse.

So he stayed quiet.

Ankit, however, wasn't planning on letting him survive peacefully.

"Anyway," he said casually, leaning against the bike beside him, "I was talking to Aashi today."

That caught Ujjwal's attention despite himself.

"Who?"

"Aashi."

Seeing the confusion on his face, Ankit rolled his eyes.

"Ayesha best friend."

Understanding flashed across Ujjwal's face.

"Oh."

"The same Ayesha whose direction you were definitely not staring at yesterday."

"Shut up."

Ujjwal shook his head.
"You talk too much."

"And you talk too little. That's why I have to balance things."

For a moment, both of them fell silent.

Then Ankit casually dropped another bomb.

"By the way, Aashi thinks I'm a playboy."

This time Ujjwal genuinely laughed.

A proper laugh.

Ankit groaned dramatically and threw his head back.
"For your information, I was being completely genuine."

"You flirt like it's a full-time job."

"I wasn't flirting."

"You absolutely were.

Their conversation died down naturally after that.

The two of them were still standing near the bikes when movement at the end of the lane caught Ankit's attention.

Three girls had just entered the colony.
Aashi.
Kiara.
And Ayesha.

Almost immediately, Ankit's eyes found Aashi.

And almost immediately, Ujjwal's eyes found Aisha.

Neither boy noticed the other for the first few seconds.

Ankit was busy looking at Aashi.

Ujjwal was busy looking at Ayesha.

The problem was that Ankit eventually looked away.

Ujjwal didn't.

Ayesha was walking in the middle, saying something animatedly while Kiara rolled her eyes and Aashi laughed beside her.

Even from a distance, she somehow managed to be the loudest person in the group. Her hands moved while she talked, her expressions changing every second as if she physically couldn't keep one emotion on her face for more than ten seconds.

Without realizing it, Ujjwal found himself smiling.

Ankit turned his head.

"Bhai..." he dragged the word out dramatically, folding his arms across his chest. "A little while ago you were explaining to me that you just came here to get some fresh air. Now I'm seeing that the air is only coming from the direction of the girl in the yellow top."

Ujjwal instantly looked away from Ayesha.

"Are you crazy?" Ujjwal muttered, trying to sound normal. "I wasn't looking at her."

"Haan haan, bilkul nahi dekh raha tha," Ankit nodded with fake seriousness. "Tu toh uske peeche wale ped ko dekh raha tha. Waise maanna padega, kaafi sundar ped hai. Main bhi emotional ho gaya usse dekh kar."

Ujjwal couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him.

"You are seriously such a useless guy."

"I'm not the useless one," Ankit shot back immediately, still grinning. "You're the useless one. You've been staring at the girl for five minutes straight and you're trying to convince me that there's nothing going on. Bro, don't convince me, convince yourself."

Ujjwal rolled my eyes and leaned against the bike.

"Ankit, genuinely, you're making this a bigger deal than it is. I don't even know if she has a boyfriend or if she's even interested in a relationship. I just saw her once. That's it."

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Ankit asked between laughs. "You don't know about a boyfriend, you don't know her relationship status, you don't know what she t yet you've already thought of so many things. Bro, this isn't called curiosity."

By the way, I can ask Aashi about her.
Ankit looked at him and said.

"Matlab?"Ujjwal asked.

"Look," Ankit said, finally deciding to end the argument. "I can ask Aashi about her if you want. Not in a weird way. Just normally. I can find out whether she's interested in relationships, what kind of boys she likes, whether she has a boyfriend or not."

As he spoke, his tone was casual, but the teasing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Ujjwal immediately frowned.
"Why would I need that?" he asked, looking genuinely confused. "Bhai, mujhe in sab mein koi interest nahi hai."

"Oh really?" Ankit asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have no interest?

Ujjwal shook his head.

"Absolutely not."

Ankit nodded slowly as if accepting the answer.

"Fine."

Then he pointed toward the coaching building.
"Now listen carefully. After today, I won't talk to you about this topic anymore."

Ujjwal looked at him suspiciously.
That sounded too easy.

Ankit continued anyway.
"You can look as much as you want. Observe as much as you want. Be as curious as you want."

A grin slowly appeared on his face.

"But I'll only talk to Aashi about Aisha when you come to me yourself and say, 'Yes i, I'm interested.'

For a moment, Ujjwal just stared at him.
Then he let ouit a short laugh.

"Bhai, tu pagal hai."

Ankit proudly accepted the title.
"Thank you."

Ujjwal rolled his eyes.
"No, seriously. That's never going to happen."

The confidence in his voice made Ankit laugh again.
"Fine."

Ankit picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"Phir dekh lenge."

There was something oddly confident in the way he said it.

As if he wasn't arguing.
As if he already knew the ending.

Ujjwal, however, paid no attention to it.
For him, it was just another one of Ankit's stupid theories.
For Ankit, it was only a matter of time.

The bell from inside the coaching building echoed through the colony lane, signaling the start of the next batch.

Around them, students began moving toward the entrance.
Some rushed inside before the teacher arrived.
Others walked lazily while continuing unfinished conversations.

The noise outside slowly faded as everyone entered the building.

Ankit nudged Ujjwal's shoulder.
"Chal."

This time, Ujjwal didn't argue.

The two boys walked toward the entrance along with the rest of the students.

Inside, rows of benches were already filling up.
At the front, notebooks were opening.
Pens were being uncapped.

And while most students were mentally preparing for Physics.

One boy was still trying very hard to convince himself that he wasn't interested in a certain girl.
Unfortunately for him, everyone except him seemed to know otherwise.

The moment they entered the classroom, the usual coaching chaos was already there.

Half the students were searching for their friends, some were fighting over seats, and a few toppers had already opened their notebooks as if the class had started fifteen minutes ago.

As always, Aashi, Ayesha, and Kiara walked straight toward the last row.

The last benches had unofficially become their territory within five days. Nobody had assigned those seats to them, but somehow they always ended up there.

Ayesha dropped her bag dramatically onto the bench and sat down.

"Bas yaar," she groaned while fanning herself with her notebook. "One day this heat will kill me and my ghost will still be forced to attend tuition."

Kiara rolled her eyes while opening her notebook.

Aashi just laughed and sat beside them.

A few moments later, Ujjwal and Ankit entered the classroom too.

Ankit was still in the middle of talking about something when he suddenly realized Ujjwal wasn't walking beside him anymore.

He turned around.

And immediately found him settling onto the bench directly behind the three girls.

Ankit looked at the empty benches around them.

Then at Ujjwal.

Then at the three girls.

Then back at Ujjwal.

A very suspicious smile appeared on his face.

"Accha..." he said slowly while placing his bag on the desk. "Bhai, tu yahan kyun baitha hai?"

(Oh... Brother, why are you sitting here?)

Ujjwal didn't even look up.

He calmly opened his notebook as if nothing unusual had happened.

"Kyunki yahan se clear view aata hai."

(Because the view is clear from here.)

Ankit almost choked.

For three whole seconds, he simply stared at him.

Then he pulled the chair and sat down beside him.

"Clear view?" he repeated, trying very hard not to laugh. "Board ka ya kisi aur ka?"

(Clear view? Of the board or of someone else?)

Finally, Ujjwal looked at him.

The expression on his face was completely serious.

The kind of serious that somehow made him look even more guilty.

"Bhai," he said patiently, as if explaining something to a five-year-old child. "Main shuru se yahin baithta hoon."

(Brother, I've been sitting here from the beginning.)

Ankit raised an eyebrow.

Ujjwal continued.

"Seriously. If instead of observing the whole world, you had ever observed me, you would've known that."

Ankit immediately burst out laughing.

"Wow."

Ujjwal ignored him and said.

"You genuinely have too much free time."

Ankit looked offended.

"I'm not free."

Then he pointed toward Aashi, who was talking to Ayesha and Kiara in front of them.

"I have my own problems.

The grin on his face immediately gave away what kind of "problems" he was talking about.

For the first time, Ujjwal laughed.

And for a brief moment, both boys stopped teasing each other.

Unfortunately, only for a brief moment.

Because barely ten seconds later, Ankit caught Ujjwal looking toward the front again.

Ankit slowly turned his head.

Looked at Ayesha.

Looked at Ujjwal.

Then placed both hands together dramatically.

"Bhagwan."

(God.)

Ujjwal closed his eyes.

He already knew what was coming.

"Isse bachaa lo."

And this time, even Ujjwal couldn't stop himself from laughing.

AYESHA POV

I was sitting between Aashi and Kiara, trying very hard not to melt.

The fan above us was rotating for decoration purposes only.

It definitely wasn't giving air.

"Yaar, itni garmi kyun hai?" I groaned, pulling my notebook toward my face and using it as a fan. "Sach bolun toh mujhe lag raha hai main padhai se pehle dehydration se mar jaungi."

Aashi immediately nodded.

"Sach mein."

I pointed around the classroom.

"Five batches hain inki."

(They have five batches.)

Then I started counting on my fingers.

"Forty students in one batch. Two thousand fees from one student. Itna paisa aa raha hai inke paas."

(Forty students in one batch. Two thousand fees from one student. They're earning so much money.)

I looked at the ceiling dramatically.

"Ek cooler lagwa dete toh inka ghar thodi bik jaata."

(Installing one cooler wouldn't make them go bankrupt.)

Kiara looked up from her notebook.

"Tum ek ghanta cooler ke bina nahi baith sakti?"

(You can't sit for one hour without a cooler?)

I slowly turned toward her.

Aashi already started laughing because she knew what was coming.

"This is why we talk less to you."

Kiara blinked.

"What did I do?"

"Har topic mein gyaan dena zaroori hai kya?"

Kiara looked offended.

"I literally said one sentence."

"Yeah, but even one sentence from you sounds like a lecture." I said.

Aashi high-fived me.

"Valid point."

Kiara rolled her eyes so hard that I was surprised they didn't disappear.

After a few seconds, I remembered something.

"Accha sun."

Both looked at me.

"They took two months of extra fees, right?"

Aashi nodded.

"Yeah."

I leaned forward.

"I've heard something."

Immediately both of them looked interested.

"What?"

I lowered my voice dramatically.

"I've heard their fee system is a scam."

Kiara sighed.

"Here she goes again."

"No, listen."

I pointed at the office room.

"Seniors said you don't understand it at first. At the end you realize you've paid extra."

Aashi started laughing.

"Who told you that?"

I thought for a moment.

"I don't remember."

Kiara immediately pointed at me.

"Exactly."

I ignored her.

"Main extra paise nahi dungi."

(I'm not giving extra money.)

"Tere paas extra paise hote bhi nahi."

(You don't even have extra money.)

Aashi said innocently.

I looked at her with betrayal.

"Wah."
"Best friend ho meri."

(You're my best friend.)

Aashi was laughing too hard to apologize.

Then I suddenly noticed something.

"Tell me one thing."

"What?"

"We've been coming here for five days."

Both nodded.

I opened my notebook.

Blank pages.

Lots of blank pages.

I showed it proudly.

"Five days."

Aashi looked.

Then immediately looked away because she started laughing.

Kiara stared at the notebook.

"There is literally nothing written here."

"Exactly."

I closed it proudly.

"We talk."
"We gossip."
"We eat."
"We waste time."

Then I pointed toward the teacher's chair.

"And he doesn't say anything."

Kiara nodded.

"I've heard from seniors."He doesn't care."

I gasped dramatically.

"So the rumours are true.

Kiara laughed.

"He only teaches. Whoever wants to study can study."

"And whoever doesn't?"

Kiara pointed directly at me.

"They become you."

Aashi burst out laughing.

I looked offended.

Then after two seconds, I nodded.

"Fair enough."

The class had finally started, but honestly, nobody looked interested in studying.

The heat was still unbearable, half the students were busy talking, and the teacher hadn't even started teaching properly yet. I was sitting between Aashi and Kiara, spinning my pen between my fingers while pretending to look at the board.

Pretending.

Because my attention was somewhere else.

More specifically, on a certain person sitting just behind us.

I turned slightly toward Aashi and lowered my voice.

"Tu aur Ankit eye-contact championship mein participate kar rahe ho kya?" I whispered, trying very hard not to laugh.

Aashi immediately glared at me.

"I haven't even looked behind me."

The moment those words left her mouth, a grin spread across my face.

"Accha?" I leaned closer. " how do you know he's sitting behind us?"

For a second, Aashi froze.

Just for a second.

Then she looked away.

And that was enough.

That was more than enough.

Kiara finally looked up from her notebook and joined the conversation.

"To be fair," she said calmly, "Ankit and his friend usually sit somewhere behind us."

Aashi pointed at Kiara.

"Thank you. Finally someone sensible."

I looked between the two of them.

"Waise bhi," I continued casually, "mujhe jiju ke dost mein koi interest nahi hai, I'm only interested in your love story."

The moment I said that, Aashi nearly choked.

"Future what?"

"Jiju."

"Stop calling him that."

I looked away innocently.

Kiara was laughing so hard she had stopped pretending to study.

Aashi buried her face in her hands.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you."

"Good thing you did."

I was still grinning when my eyes wandered toward the front rows.

A boy was sitting there, listening to the teacher.

Well...

At least he looked like he was listening.

I stared for a few seconds.

Then a few more.

"Hmm."

Aashi noticed.

"What?"

I pointed discreetly.

"Udhar dekh."

Aashi followed my gaze.

The boy was sitting quietly near the front.

Nothing extraordinary.

And yet...

"He's attractive," I admitted.

Aashi looked at me.

"Interested?"

I immediately shook my head.

"No, not interested."

Aashi laughed.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means he's good-looking."

I shrugged.

"Bas face cute hai, that's all. Abhi toh kuch nahi. Maybe I'll forget his face in ten minutes."

"Or maybe you won't."

Kiara said casually.

I ignored her.

Because obviously I would.

People looked attractive all the time.

That didn't mean anything.

At least that's what I thought.

Aashi nudged me.

"Chal, now focus."

I groaned dramatically.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Kiara opened her notebook.

Aashi picked up her pen.

And with the same complaints, same gossip, same unfinished homework and same teenage chaos, we went back to surviving school and tuition one day at a time.