When we were asked to present this project, somehow Shree popped up and switched places with Akaay. Like… why?? My life was peaceful before—first Shubh barges in, now Shree too? Why, Shree, why do this to me?
Later, I found out she hadn't convinced him to switch; it was just the difference between them, plus his anxiety about presenting. Even though he left the spotlight, he was still helping with the project quietly.
But I could feel it—between them, something was off. They weren't shouting, but their silence felt like a fight. In his eyes, I saw blank emptiness. In hers? A glimpse of hurt so deep she had to lash out, like words were her only shield.
And then, after finishing his part, he just… left. No goodbyes. No explanations. Just gone. Leaving the rest of us to carry the project to the interschool science fair.
While practicing, Shree kept cutting in, correcting me, even stealing my lines like she owned the script.
I wanted to scream.
I was the one who wrote it.
I was the one who built the project.
"Kriti, why are you fumbling again and again? Maybe you shouldn't say this line… I'll speak it for you." She said it like she was doing me some huge favor.
My eyes burned with anger and sadness.
"No. I'll do my part. Focus on yours," I snapped.
Then came the day of the fair. Of course, neither Shree nor Shubh bothered to pick up the project.
"Shubh, you're the boy here—what are you even doing?" I ranted silently in my head before finally giving in. I carried that 3 kg project myself, clutching it for half an hour like a single mom carrying her baby. And of course—because fate hates me—a small part of it broke.
And boom. The blame storm hit me.
"Kriti, what have you done?" Shree gasped.
"But I didn't even—" I muttered, my voice dying halfway.
"Alright, guys, we can fix this," Shubh cut in, trying to cool things down.
"But Akaay isn't even here…" Shree jabbed again.
That was it. I lost it.
"Fine! I guess it's my fault then—for carrying this giant baby all by myself!"
"Let's just do what we can," Shubh sighed. And finally, finally, Shree stopped.
As soon as we entered the venue, we found our spot and—no joke—me and Shree were already exhausted. So we went for water. And what do we see? A full-on mob around Shubh. My heart dropped. We were terrified—like, how is he even going to handle this??
We rushed back, and right then—bam—our project stopped working. "What the hell is happening?" my brain screamed.
The judges (yes, the actual judges) came over, and we were standing there like statues. Blank minds. Malfunctioning project. And me, spiraling in guilt. Obviously, my fault, right? But they said calmly, "If you can fix this, we're not marking right now. Get it sorted." And then they left.
Cue mini heart attack #2.
Meanwhile, some guy from the same college kept hovering around. Wandering, talking, flirting. Like hello? Shubh, do you not see this random dude trying to act smooth with the two of us? He even started distributing his school pamphlets. Shree whispered, "Watch—he'll hand one to you, one to me."
And he did.
I stared at him and said, "Bhaiya, can you please just keep these on the table? I can't hold them right now."
He smirked, "Oh, you can't hold it? Is it so heavy for you?" And snapped the pamphlets onto the table before storming off. Me and Shree? Laughing non-stop. Meanwhile, clueless Shubh over there had zero idea what was even happening.
But it didn't end there. Later, we had to get a room, and guess who showed up again? Yup. Mr. Pamphlet Guy. He started talking to Shree, then somehow took us both to a room and—get this—tried closing the door.
"Bro, bro, what are you doing? Don't close it!" I panicked.
Then he goes, "If any boy comes and does something with you, don't mind me. Boys are like this. I'm just revealing."
…Excuse me?? Sir, WHAT??
I said firmly, "Can you please call our teachers before closing this door?" And when our sir came, he slithered away. Creepy mission failed.
Fast-forward to the medal ceremony—we were so sure we'd get nothing. After all, we messed up in front of the judges. But miracle of miracles—we fixed the error during the re-presentation. And guess what? Second place.
And the funniest bit? That same guy came checking our certificates, like, "Hmm, spelling is fine or not?" Like bro, why do you even know our names? We laughed so hard, he unintentionally made our day.
When we finally reached school, the first person I saw was Akaay. I told him we won second place, and he literally kissed the project.
"Oh, baby, you won. Oh, child, we won," he whispered to the project.
I froze. He wasn't looking at me—he was looking at the project. But something inside me melted. My chest felt warm, my cheeks hot. For a second, I wished he'd praise me too. Tell me I worked hard. But the words got stuck in my throat.
I just stood there, staring at his smile, unable to decide if my happiness was for the win…
or for him.