The corridor buzzed with movement—students pouring out of classrooms, voices bouncing off the walls in waves of mid-day chatter. Somewhere, someone was beatboxing terribly. Laughter followed.
Shruti stood by the second-floor railing just outside her class, her fingers curled loosely around her phone. She wasn't really reading anything. Her thumb moved idly across the screen, but her eyes occasionally lifted—searching, watching.
And then she saw it.
Saranya, holding her notebook tightly against her chest, walked toward Arjun with deliberate lightness in her steps, like she'd practiced this moment in her head a few times. Her dupatta was draped perfectly today, her hair pinned back neatly, face calm but visibly hopeful.
Shruti's breath hitched—just a little.
"Hey, Arjun," Saranya called softly as she reached him.
He turned, caught slightly off guard. "Hey."
"Um… do you mind helping me with the chemistry notes from yesterday?" she asked, offering a gentle smile, her tone friendly but lined with subtle nerves. "I was absent for the second half, and I heard you had a really clear set of points."
"Oh," he said, brows lifting slightly, "Yeah… I think I have the PDF. I'll forward it to you."
Saranya paused. Her smile lingered, but her fingers shifted restlessly against the spine of her notebook.
"That's sweet of you," she said quietly, watching his face. "Thanks."
There was a brief, awkward silence. The kind that isn't necessarily uncomfortable—but brims with unsaid hopes and missing responses.
Arjun returned a polite smile. "No problem."
And then he turned his head, instinctively scanning the hallway.
His eyes found her immediately.
Shruti. Leaning by the railing. Still.
He didn't look at Saranya again.
"Ready?" he asked, making his way toward Shruti with the kind of ease only comfort allows.
Shruti blinked and nodded quickly, slipping her phone into her sling bag. "Yeah. Let's go."
They fell into step beside each other, walking in sync without needing to discuss where they were headed. The air between them felt quiet—but full.
Shruti glanced at him. "You're forwarding chemistry notes now?" she teased gently, a soft edge to her voice.
Arjun chuckled. "Apparently."
"She asked you nicely," Shruti added, watching his face.
He looked over at her with a lopsided smile. "Yeah, but I'd still rather explain quantum entanglement to a toddler than tutor anyone."
She smirked. "Liar. You like helping people."
"Only selectively," he replied, and nudged her elbow. "You, for example."
She rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the grin tugging at her lips. "Such favouritism."
"Unapologetic," he replied simply.
They rounded the corner, the hum of the corridor softening behind them.
Back where they'd just been, Saranya stood still for a beat too long, her eyes following them—not with malice, but with a faint, sinking understanding. Her fingers gripped the edge of her notebook a little tighter.
She let out a small sigh, the kind meant only for herself.
Then she turned and walked away—quiet, composed, but with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
---
In the days that followed, Saranya didn't give up.
She wasn't pushy—just quietly persistent, like someone trying to solve a puzzle with pieces she didn't yet have.
"Did Arjun say anything about me today?" she would ask Shruti during lunch, her eyes hopeful, even if her tone was casual.
"No," Shruti would say gently, shaking her head. "We didn't talk about anything specific."
"Oh." Saranya would nod slowly, trying to hide her disappointment behind a polite smile. "Maybe tomorrow."
Other times, Saranya asked questions that stung just a little more than they should have.
"Is he always this quiet? Like… this guarded?"
Shruti paused each time. "Sometimes," she said carefully, "but only with people he's not close to."
Saranya would nod again, lips pressing into a thin line. "Do you think I annoy him?"
"No," Shruti answered too quickly, too softly.
And like always, she passed along Saranya's messages. And like always, Arjun replied the same way.
"Oh," he'd say, mildly surprised. "Tell her I'll send the notes."
Or: "I guess I can help her. After class, maybe."
Or the most recent: "If she has questions, she can text. But I don't want her waiting for me after lectures like that again. It's awkward."
Shruti didn't lie. She repeated the words carefully, respectfully—never too cold, never too sharp.
But Saranya noticed.
She noticed the way Arjun's smile came easier around Shruti. The way his posture relaxed. The way he stole her pen, only to grin when she reached to snatch it back. How he leaned over her shoulder to peek at her notes even when he had his own.
She noticed how his gaze softened when Shruti laughed.
And most of all, she noticed that he never looked at her the way he looked at Shruti.
To be continued...