"I swear, I'm so excited! We're finally getting to sit in the new building!" Ira bounced as she walked, her backpack thumping like a drum behind her. "I'm seriously overhyped!"
"Bro, have you seen the washroom there?" Trisha chimed in, fixing her hair in the tinted glass of the staff room window. "Totally Kareena Kapoor vibes from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham. I'm honestly thinking about stealing that huge mirror."
"Just hope our class isn't next to the washroom." Ridhima joined in, folding her hands like she was praying to the gods of Class Allocation. "Please bless us with a room near the stairs!"
"Okay okay, vibe check done," Ira grinned. "But do you even remember the room number?"
Trisha waved her off. "Leave it yaar, look at all these students roaming like stray cats. Let's join the club!"
"And if a teacher catches us?" Ira's voice rose with panic. "What excuse do we give?"
"Excuse? Just say we're looking for our class. Like the other 50 NPCs wandering around," Ridhima said with a shrug.
"No, yaar, the teachers are probably already in the classrooms!" Ira whispered, clutching her bag like a shield. "If we're late, we'll get scolded on Day One... let's just go to class, please!"
Trisha rolled her eyes. "Yaar Iru, you're too much! Come on, Riddhi... before she has an emotional breakdown and drags us into a lecture."
She casually threw her arms around both their shoulders like they were heading into battle. And maybe they were — a war zone called "first day in the new building."
As they wandered through the echoing hallways (where one wall fan made more noise than sense), Ira squinted. "Let's just ask someone. This feels like Hogwarts without a map."
And that's when they saw him.
A senior. Tall. Slightly confused. Totally giving off lost puppy in a school corridor vibes.
Perfect.
"Excuse me, bhaiya? Do you know where room 206 is?" Ridhima asked sweetly.
The boy looked at them like they'd asked for the meaning of life."How would I know? I'm looking for my own class! Can't even find that — you want me to find yours?"
Trisha grinned. "Ah, so you're part of the Confused Kid Gang too."
He sighed dramatically. "This school has so many buildings, and the map is so random that a person could lose themselves before finding their class."
"Exactly! What do they care? Staff rooms in every building, but we students? Wandering spirits!" Trisha declared like they were tragic heroes in some school-based saga.
Ira and Ridhima exchanged looks — yep, she was in one of her moods again.
The boy was about to say something when—
"You must be getting late, right?" Ridhima asked sweetly.
"No, actually I—"
"You are," Ira nodded with certainty.
"Yes yes, you just don't realize it yet — but you're very late," Ridhima added, patting his arm like a concerned aunty.
"Fine... if you say so... Sisters, I shall take your leave," he said dramatically, waving like he was off to war.
As he walked away, Ira shouted like Dora with a map."Guys! 206! Last door!"
They glanced at each other. No words. Just one unspoken agreement: Run.
And then…
THUD.
Of course — Trisha tripped on her shoelace and crash-landed into the classroom.
Flat. On. The. Floor.
In front of the entire class. And the teacher.
Silence.
Then—
"TRISHA!" Ira and Ridhima burst into laughter, rushing to pick her up.
Even Trisha was giggling — like she'd fallen on purpose just for the drama.
Then came... The Teacher Stare™. They froze. Suddenly, smiling felt like a crime.
They tiptoed to the last bench like naughty kids caught on national TV. But the moment they sat—The giggles exploded again.
"Everyone's gonna remember Trisha's grand entry," Ridhima whispered, wiping her eyes.
"Yaar! The way she fell... I'm still laughing!" Ira added, nearly choking on giggles.
"She was lying there like... a crime scene victim!" Ridhima high-fived Ira as they cracked up again.
Trisha glared. "You two done? Or is there more laughter left?"
They tried — really tried — to stop. But one look at Trisha's face and they were gone again.
"Go on, laugh till your stomach bursts," Trisha huffed dramatically. "Now that you're done laughing, someone ask if I'm okay!"
"You were the one racing," Ridhima said, nudging her. "Now suffer."
"Seriously though, Rishu, is it hurting a lot?" Ira asked, concern peeking through the laughter.
"If it is, we can go to the medical room," Ridhima offered. "We'll get to wander a bit too."
"You're impossible!" Trisha gave her a mock-scandalized look.
"I'm fine. Are you okay?" Ridhima giggled.
Trisha clutched Ira's arm. "At least Iru cares. She asked with proper motherly concern!"
"Of course she did," Ridhima added, joining the hug. "She's our second mom, remember?"
"I didn't adopt you both," Ira rolled her eyes. "You two adopted me."
"Hein? We don't remember doing that," Trisha and Ridhima said in unison.
And just like that — four classes flew by. Lost in jokes, giggles, and each other's chaos.
___________________________
Lunch Break — also known as: Food War 101
Three tiffins opened like treasure chests. But the jackpot?
Ira's chole chawal.
Trisha and Ridhima's eyes sparkled.
"Hands off! That's mine!" Trisha smacked Ridhima's hand away.
"No, you back off! It was made for me!" Ridhima shot back.
"I said it's mine!"
"Yeah? Saying things doesn't make them true! I say this school belongs to my dad — doesn't mean it does!"
"GUYS!" Ira cried, hands in the air like she was negotiating a ceasefire. "It's just chole chawal, not the elixir of life!"
Trisha turned slowly, deadly serious. "No, Iru. It's not just chole chawal."
She placed a hand over her heart.
"It's... chhooolleeeee chaaaawaaalll!"
"Exactly!" Ridhima nodded. "Our nectar. And we'll fight for it."
And then — SWOOP!
Trisha snatched the tiffin and bolted.
"RISHUUU! COME BACK!" Ridhima gave chase like a dramatic Bollywood cop.
Ira blinked. Twice. Sighed like a mom with two wild toddlers.
"The mother always suffers in her kids' fights." She muttered and ran after them.
Madness. Total madness.
But then — karma struck.
Trisha looked back, tripped on her shoelace (again), and thaaaddd — down she went.
The tiffin flew.The chole chawal scattered...Like dreams during pre-board results.
Everyone froze.
Trisha stood up like a war survivor. Looked at Ridhima. Glared.
"KYA? It's not like I told you to run!" Ridhima raised her hands in defense.
Trisha looked down at the food tragedy. Then at her friend.
"Go ahead... eat it off the floor," she said, deadpan.
Ira arrived just in time to witness the scene — and burst into laughter.
Soon, all three were laughing at the food. At the fall. At each other.
______________________________
After the funeral of the chole chawal, they dragged themselves back toward class — still giggling and blaming each other.
But as they turned the corner, they froze.
A huge crowd had gathered outside their class. Like a stage drama was going on.
"What's happening?" Ira frowned.
"Assembly outside the classroom?" Trisha asked.
"Which school holds assembly outside class?" Ira replied dryly.
"Something juicy's about to go down!" Ridhima grinned.
They elbowed their way to the front like pros — and saw it.
Two boys. Collars grabbed. Eyes blazing. Veins popping.
Akshay Kumar vs John Abraham level intensity.
"Oye hoye... Live action!" Trisha whispered.
"Why are they fighting?" Ira asked a nearby kid.
"Started over a seat. Now it's about ego. They're threatening to fight outside school now."
And then—
"You don't know who I am? My uncle's an MLA!"
"Oh yeah? Tell your MLA uncle if he knows Vikrant bhai! My brother has two illegal licenses!"
Ira facepalmed. "Same old drama."
But Trisha and Ridhima?
"Enough talking! Hit each other already!" Trisha yelled, hands cupped.
"Yeah! Let's see who punches first!" Ridhima added like a full-on announcer.
"GUYS!" Ira whisper-yelled. "Stop provoking them!"
"Shhh Ira! It's getting good!" Trisha replied, eyes locked on the scene.
Just as a punch was about to fly—
"What's going on here?"
A calm but commanding voice cut through the tension.
Everyone turned.
Mahin. Ravish. Ishaan.
Ishaan: excited. Ravish: annoyed.Mahin? Calm. Stormy. Effortlessly cool.
He walked through the crowd — sleeves rolled, shirt slightly untucked, April wind playing with his hair.
He didn't try to look good.
He just was.
Every step was unbothered. Like the chaos didn't touch him.
Ishaan cheered. "DRAMA?! Without me?!"
"Is this about a seat or are we launching WW3?" Ravish asked dryly.
"It's personal now," one boy said.
Mahin: "Bro, you're in school — not a wedding mandap."
"You're auctioning your pride over a bench," Ishaan munched a biscuit. "I should've brought popcorn."
Mahin: "If you get this triggered over small things, what next? A boxing ring over a pen?"
Students chuckled. The fighters looked... less bold.
"Whatever this is, settle it after school. This ends now," Ravish said, voice sharp.
"And hey," Mahin added, adjusting his sleeve, "If you're into this drama, join the theatre club. You'll definitely get the lead."
The boys backed off. Crowd chuckled. No punches. Just peace.
"Tag me next time. I'll do the live commentary," Ishaan said, walking off with his biscuit.
But Trisha?
Trisha froze.
Her heart was going dhadak dhadak dhadak.
She clutched Ira's sleeve.
"Kya hua?" Ira whispered.
"Nothing," Trisha whispered back, still staring at Mahin.
Mahin gave a tiny nod and walked away.
Trisha? Still clutching Ira's sleeve like it was life support.
She blinked, whispering to herself:"What's happening to me?"
Ira smirked."Tu toh gayi."
"I didn't fall... I flew," Trisha whispered dramatically.
Mahin disappeared into the crowd.
But her heart?
It wasn't calming down anytime soon.
Just then, Ridhima appeared with a grin."Trishaaa… you had full-on filmy clouds in your eyes!"
Ira joined in. "Only the violins were missing."
Trisha flailed. "It was nothing!"
"Yeah right, you were gift-wrapping him with your eyes," Ridhima winked.
Trisha groaned into her hands."You two are my enemies!"
Ridhima and Ira linked arms with her, laughing the whole way back to class...
While Trisha's hopeless little heart did somersaults inside her chest.