Chapter 2: Scene 3 — Part 1 (Point 1)
The day had barely exhaled from the suffocating weight of the first inspection round when the school's ancient PA system crackled to life once more.
The static buzz wasn't just sound; it was a trigger.
Every student in Class 12-B straightened instinctively, muscle memory reacting to the sharp, familiar whine that meant one thing—an announcement that could alter the day's trajectory.
Aarav Sen, still fighting the residual precision his body insisted on maintaining, felt his senses lock onto the faint feedback loop as Principal Mehra's voice cut through.
"Attention, all students and faculty," Mehra's tone was crisp, controlled, yet carried an undertone of importance that set nerves on edge.
The classroom's ambient noise vanished.
Even Kunal's habitual pen-tapping halted mid-beat.
"The Inspection Committee will now commence the Second Round evaluations," Mehra continued. "This will include individual student interactions and academic performance showcases. Class teachers are requested to prepare their top-performing students accordingly."
The announcement ended with a final pop of static, but its weight lingered, pressing against every ribcage in the room.
Mrs. Nair's heels clicked sharply as she stepped forward, clipboard in hand, her face a canvas of measured excitement.
"This," she began, her tone balancing on the fine line between pride and warning, "is where we prove why Class 12-B sets the benchmark."
She scanned the rows, her gaze pausing just long enough on each student to ensure their attention was fully captive.
"The inspectors will engage with select students based on their performance," she said. "And as luck would have it, today's quiz will serve as the perfect reflection of this class's discipline and focus."
A ripple of murmurs coursed through the room, hushed but palpable.
Students shifted in their seats, some straightening reflexively, others glancing sideways, their minds racing back to the morning's quiz.
Anaya Rathore, seated in her impeccable posture, exhaled slowly through her nose.
This was her arena.
Quizzes, evaluations, interactions—every metric designed to spotlight discipline and performance had her name etched at the top.
She didn't need to glance back at Aarav Sen to know he would be slouched, unfazed, already irrelevant to what was about to unfold.
Her fingers adjusted the pen on her desk, aligning it to the desk's edge with subconscious precision.
Beside her, students fidgeted, anxiety curling into the small gestures of shuffling papers and adjusting ties.
Kunal, ever the mood diffuser, leaned towards Aarav with a grin that barely masked his own nerves.
"Second Round Doom approaching, Sen. Place your bets now. Who's going to faint first?"
Aarav's lips curled into a smirk.
"I'm betting on Mrs. Nair. If she straightens that clipboard any further, it might snap."
Kunal muffled a snort, earning a sharp glare from the front.
Mrs. Nair wasn't in the mood for rebellion.
"The inspectors expect excellence," she said, her tone hardening. "And we shall deliver."
Her eyes flitted briefly to Anaya, a silent acknowledgment of the student she knew would carry the class.
Anaya, in return, dipped her chin, her expression unreadable.
Mrs. Nair's gaze shifted to the clipboard in her hands, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood.
"I will now announce the top scorers of today's quiz. These students will be the primary representatives during the inspectors' interactive round."
The room inhaled.
Kunal leaned in again, his whisper barely audible.
"Here we go. Rathore gets her crown. Sen gets his nap."
Aarav chuckled softly, masking his own curiosity.
He hadn't forgotten how his body had betrayed him during the quiz.
The precision with which his answers had flowed, the uncharacteristic clarity that had dictated his pen's movement.
But none of that meant anything now.
This was Rathore's stage.
Mrs. Nair cleared her throat.
"First, as expected—Anaya Rathore."
Anaya's posture remained unchanged, but there was a subtle softening of her shoulders, as if acknowledging the inevitability of her position.
Murmurs of agreement buzzed through the class.
Mrs. Nair smiled, her pride palpable.
But then, she continued.
"Sharing the top score... Aarav Sen."
The classroom didn't murmur.
It stilled.
As if the collective breath had been siphoned out.
Anaya's pen paused mid-adjustment.
Kunal's head snapped sideways.
Aarav's smirk widened.
He leaned back—or at least tried to—but his body, ever the traitor, maintained its composed alignment.
The silence fractured into a wave of hushed whispers.
Mrs. Nair, though momentarily taken aback herself, recovered quickly.
"Sen has shown... remarkable focus today," she said, though her voice carried the subtle tremor of disbelief.
Aarav, basking in the sudden limelight, offered a lazy grin, though inside, the anomaly gnawed at him as much as it did her.