The school bell had rung at 8:00 a.m. like every other day, but that morning Aarav felt as if the world had ended at 7:59.
"Kids, hurry up and form a line! Assembly is about to begin!"
The peon's voice came from behind, and the whole crowd began pushing forward.
This was St. Joseph Senior Secondary School — the kind of English-medium school where
the uniform was tight, the rules even tighter,
and the students' mischief... tighter than both.
Aarav was in 12th A, Science stream.
Quiet on the outside, a bit introverted —
but inside, a full-time nonstop commentary machine.
Every situation in his life came with a YouTube-style voiceover inside his head.
He had two closest friends:
🔹 Rohan – the class's meme generator, whose brain ran on a permanent spoiler alert mode.
🔹 Sahil – the guy who laughed at everything, whether he understood it or not.
Standing in the assembly, Aarav's mind was stuck on the physics test.
He had spent the previous night scrolling Instagram motivational reels instead of studying — reels that had far more lighting effects than motivation.
The principal spoke into the mic—
"Students, discipline is the soul of this institution..."
Aarav muttered in his head,
"And our soul got lost somewhere in a crowd of memes at 2 a.m., sir..."
Rohan nudged him, whispering,
"Bro, is your practical file done?"
Aarav answered without even looking at him,
"I've left the practical file in God's hands. Whatever happens, happens."
Assembly ended. Everyone began marching toward their classrooms in lines.
And right then...
12th B's line started passing by.
Aarav tried to look away —
he wasn't the kind of guy who stared at a girl every day —
but his eyes stopped unintentionally.
There she was.
Riya.
A loose messy bun, a few strands falling over her face...
books in her hand, and that spark in her eyes —
the same kind you see in films when violins start playing in the background.
12th B. Commerce.
Naughty, cute...
and walking as if confidence had taken human form.
Their worlds had never actually collided —
just the occasional slow-motion corridor glance... nothing more.
But today?
Today the story had begun writing their names together on its very first page.
⏳ First Period: English
The teacher was Mrs. D'Souza.
Short in height, personality like a full-fledged thunderstorm.
"Good morning, ma'am!"
The class shouted in chorus, as if breathing was also part of attendance.
"Today we read Hamlet," she announced.
The collective expression of the class looked as if someone had said,
"All year-round holidays have been cancelled."
From behind his book, Rohan whispered,
"Yaar, if Shakespeare were alive today, he'd be running a huge Insta page posting sad quotes!"
Aarav bent down, trying to control his laughter.
During attendance, Aarav wrote a note:
"Dear Rohan,
If Hamlet knew we were still reading him in 2025,
he wouldn't have died once — he'd have died three more times.
— Your suffering friend, Aarav."
He was just about to pass the note to Rohan when Sahil snatched it away at lightning speed.
He read it, and a muffled "fff... pff... hahahaha..." escaped him.
A ripple of suppressed laughter spread across the class.
Instantly, Mrs. D'Souza switched to radar mode:
"Aarav! Sahil! What is happening back there?"
Aarav sat straight.
"Nothing, ma'am... Rohan just sneezed—"
Rohan played along and gave a dramatic fake sneeze:
"Achooo!"
The class burst into laughter.
"Enough! Aarav, stand outside. For the entire period!"
Class: "Oooooooo!"
Sahil (whispering): "RIP, bro."
Aarav muttered internally:
"Great. My hero-to-zero day has officially begun."
The walls were covered with motivational quotes like:
"Discipline is the bridge between goals and achievement."
Aarav thought painfully,
"And this punishment is the traffic jam on that bridge..."
Just then he heard a group of girls laughing —
Riya was walking by with her two friends.
She looked at him... paused and smiled...
then let out a soft laugh.
Neha (whispering to Riya):
"Look at his expression... like he got a lifetime suspension."
Riya smiled,
"The expression was cute... that guilty + confused combo."
It lasted only 3–4 seconds, but
Aarav's memory card saved the moment in HD + 4K + Dolby Atmos.
The period ended.
At the water cooler, she was standing there again.
Riya.
Aarav gathered courage:
"Excuse me... why were you laughing at me?"
Riya looked up,
"Me? When did I laugh?"
Aarav:
"During first period... clearly."
Riya thought for a moment, then said,
"Okay... I did laugh. But why are you taking it so seriously? The punishment looked kinda cute..."
Aarav (slightly hurt):
"Cute? I got insulted in front of everyone."
Riya replied genuinely,
"I wasn't making fun of you. The situation was cute... not you. Don't get too carried away, Mr. Punishment."
And—just like that, the first spark had fallen.
Two days later, it was the library period.
The smell of books, the soft chill of the AC, the long wooden tables...
the same library where dreams were written, and sometimes broken too.
12th A and 12th B had the same time slot.
The English teacher simply said,
"Sit quietly, read a book... and maintain silence."
Aarav was more interested in thinking than reading.
Something about Riya had stayed in his mind these past two days —
open like a stable tab he hadn't closed.
Rohan nudged him:
"Bro, 12B just entered. Girls' zone unlocked."
Aarav rolled his eyes, but his heart whispered,
"Stay calm... just general observation."
Riya walked in — books in hand, hair bun slightly loose, steps confident.
There wasn't space in the front, so she ended up sitting in the same row where Aarav was tucked in at a corner —
far, but directly in his line of sight.
Their eyes met briefly.
Riya gave a tiny smile — just for a second.
Aarav nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
No dramatic violins played...
just a simple, harmless gesture —
but in school life, such moments weigh more than the entire syllabus.
The librarian passed by, saying,
"Silence! Pin-drop silence!"
A few minutes passed.
Then suddenly, Riya got up from her seat...
walked straight toward him...
and sat on the empty chair right next to Aarav.
Aarav's heart felt like
a Windows system restarting without warning.
Riya whispered,
"Hi again... Mr. Punishment."
Aarav closed his book.
"Hi, Miss Laugh-at-others."
Riya pretended to be shocked,
"Oh! You still remember?"
Aarav:
"First time a girl laughed at me the moment she saw me... the memory became strong."
Riya smiled softly but kept her voice low:
"By the way, why were you passing notes in class?"
Aarav:
"A creative exit strategy to escape Hamlet reading."
Riya suppressed a laugh:
"Wow. Even Hamlet wasn't as dramatic as you."
They fell silent for a bit.
But it wasn't awkward — surprisingly comfortable.
Riya asked,
"You're in Science, right?"
"Yeah, 12A."
"And still so good in English? Rare combo."
Aarav straightened slightly,
"I want to be a writer."
Riya's curiosity sharpened,
"Seriously? You write?"
Aarav:
"A little. Haven't shown it to anyone."
Riya:
"Show me sometime... I'd like to read."
Aarav joked:
"Will I get honest feedback or insult-level honesty?"
Riya shook her head,
"You'll get what you deserve."
Another stretch of shared silence.
The distant ticking of the library clock...
as if setting the rhythm for a story no one had named yet.
Next day, during PT period, an announcement came:
"12A vs 12B — friendly throwball match!"
Riya was on the team.
Aarav wasn't very active in sports, but today his heart said:
"Try it. It's not the Olympics."
The game began.
Riya served — damn powerful.
The ball came fast, and Aarav landed on the grass with a dramatic thud.
The entire team burst out laughing.
From a distance, Riya called out:
"Nice stunt, Mr. Writer! Pure filmy fall."
Aarav stood up,
"I was testing the ground's safety."
Riya laughed.
And this time, her laughter wasn't insulting...
just a warm, harmless tease.
After the match, while drinking water:
Riya:
"By the way... good effort."
Aarav:
"Was the falling entertaining, or the playing?"
Riya:
"Both. Mostly the falling."
The bell rang in the distance.
But another distance — the one between them —
was slowly shrinking...
quietly, gently, without either of them naming it.
That day, Neha was absent during recess.
Riya was standing alone.
Aarav, too, was having a solo break.
Riya asked,
"Do you always eat alone?"
Aarav replied,
"No... I have two friends. They just logged me out of the system today."
Riya laughed,
"Loyal friends."
They reached the counter together.
Cold drink, samosa — the usual school fuel.
Riya asked,
"Do you still write stories?"
Aarav was slightly surprised.
"You remember?"
Riya smiled,
"I don't forget things that matter."
Aarav said,
"I've written a short story... I can show you sometime."
Riya's eyes genuinely lit up.
"I want to read it."
That was all.
No confession, no butterflies...
just interest — rare, gentle, steady.
And right then—
"Riya!"
Vinay.
Leaning against the wall, cold drink in hand, and an odd kind of possessiveness in his eyes.
Riya's face subtly fell.
She said quietly,
"I'll be back..."
and walked away.
Aarav watched her leave.
The samosa suddenly tasted only half as good.
From a distance, voices echoed—
Vinay saying something with big gestures,
and Riya looking uncomfortable.
When she returned, she didn't even look at Aarav.
She simply walked away.
Some things don't stab you...
they just settle inside.
Over the next few days, a routine formed:
Sometimes two-minute chats outside the staff room,
sometimes side-by-side seats in the library,
sometimes walking together until the bus stop.
They were still just friends.
There was no need to name it...
some connections aren't in a hurry for definitions.
One afternoon, after a Commerce test:
Riya leaned on the railing and said,
"Yaar, the accountancy paper was so brutal, I feel like sir will give me a heart attack just by looking at my marks."
Aarav laughed,
"You Commerce people fear balance sheets more than heart attacks. I hear the word physics and my BP shoots up."
Riya laughed,
"Fair enough."
They were laughing when—
A heavy, rough voice called out,
"Riyaa..."
It was Vinay.
12th C. Reputation:
Two failed attempts. Street name. Fights. Ego thick as concrete.
"I was looking for you in the canteen," he said.
Then his eyes locked on Aarav —
a gaze that scanned a person's character through their clothes.
Riya said in a flat tone,
"Break's about to end, just getting some air. Did you need something?"
Vinay ignored her question.
"So you're in 12A?" he asked Aarav.
"Yes," Aarav replied.
"Name?"
"Aarav."
Vinay gave a slow smile —
the kind given right before a warning.
"So Aarav... you've made a new friend, huh? Riya?"
Riya clicked her tongue in irritation,
"What's your problem, Vinay? Anyone can be friends with anyone."
Vinay lifted his hand casually,
"Relax, Riya. I'm just talking."
The bell rang.
Riya gave Aarav a small, almost apologetic smile,
"I'm going to class... see you later."
Vinay stayed behind.
His voice low, but sharp—
"We'll meet... Aarav. Separately."
The moment he walked off, the air felt heavier.
Aarav felt a strange emptiness —
as if a scene had played without background music,
but left behind a deep meaning.
School was over.
The sunset had painted the school walls gold.
Kids' voices scattered across the bus stop, cycle stand, and vans.
Aarav picked up his cycle —
the chain was stuck, so he bent down to fix it.
Suddenly—
"Aarav!"
He turned.
Vinay... with two of his friends.
Smiles on their faces, shadows of threat in their eyes.
"Heading home?" Vinay asked.
"Yeah, I'm going," Aarav said.
Vinay stepped closer —
close enough that Aarav could smell a faint mix of cologne and cigarette smoke.
"Talk for a minute?" Vinay's tone was polite; his vibe wasn't.
"About what?" Aarav asked, already knowing.
Vinay smiled,
"About Riya."
Silence.
Cycle stand.
Three boys.
One exit gate.
Vinay said,
"I've been watching you... library, canteen, corridor — everywhere together.
You're new in her life."
Aarav replied steadily,
"We're just friends."
Vinay's lips curved,
"Just friends..."
Then he grabbed Aarav's collar —
quick, sudden.
Aarav stepped back; the cycle clattered and the chain fell again.
Vinay said,
"The whole school knows I like Riya.
So... it's better if I don't see you around her too much."
The boys behind him laughed —
like this was a weekly ritual.
Aarav steadied himself.
"Riya isn't some object that belongs to you."
Vinay's eyes hardened.
He jerked the collar again.
"Consider this your last warning.
Stay away from Riya.
Or more than just your collar will get grabbed.
Clear?"
Aarav's heart was pounding, but he said,
"I won't stop talking to a friend just because you have a problem."
Vinay let out a cold laugh,
"Oh... playing hero?
Let's see how long this heroism lasts."
He shoved him lightly.
All three walked off toward the back gate, laughing.
Aarav stayed where he was.
Collar crooked, breaths uneven,
and one sentence echoing in his mind—
"Stay away from Riya..."
Sometimes the villain isn't the one who looks like it on day one—
sometimes it's the one who tries to stop a connection from even beginning.
Aarav took his cycle toward the back gate,
but his steps were heavy — as if his feet moved forward while his mind stayed behind.
Sometimes danger is loudest
when it is whispered.
That line kept circling in his ears:
"Stay away from Riya... it won't be good."
He couldn't tell whether the stronger feeling was fear... or anger.
His heart said,
"What did I do wrong? It's just friendship..."
But his mind whispered,
"Is it safe?"
Just then, he heard laughter.
A familiar one.
Aarav turned —
Riya was walking toward the gate with her classmates.
Laughing... but today her laughter lacked the carefree lightness he'd seen before.
Her eyes looked like they were either searching for someone... or avoiding someone.
A moment later, her gaze met Aarav's.
Barely half a second.
Riya paused.
As if silently asking—
Are you okay?
Aarav's lips moved in a small, soundless whisper—
"I'm fine."
(And they both knew it was a lie.)
Neha tugged her arm,
"Come on, the bus will leave!"
Riya wanted to look one second longer,
but she turned away.
And right there...
Aarav realized for the first time that
you don't only lose someone when they walk away—
sometimes the losing begins
the moment a third person steps in between.
The trees lined the road, sunlight filtering through their leaves—
but everything looked blurry today.
As he pedaled home, he felt the story's pages shifting.
Where things once felt light,
there were warnings scribbled now.
Sometimes a person has been in your life just for a few days,
but if someone else gives you a warning about them—
you don't need a label to understand what they mean to you.
The heart understands.