Rhea's Pov
Neil didn't come back to the last row.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He sat in the middle bench, spine straight, bag perfectly aligned—like he was auditioning for forgiveness and knew he wouldn't get the role yet.
Front benches didn't look at him.
Last row didn't invite him.
Middle benches are cruel that way. They make you visible without belonging.
Samar leaned back. "Wow. Switzerland has joined the classroom."
Kabir didn't respond.
That was new.
Neil's First Test (And First Loss)
Mrs. Chatterjee announced a surprise test.
Of course she did.
Front benches relaxed.
Middle benches panicked.
Last row adjusted—calm, unreadable.
Neil's pen moved fast. Too fast.
I watched him pause, frown, then quietly slide his answer sheet a centimetre closer to Kabir's desk—not for copying.
For comparison.
Kabir glanced once. Corrected one step. Slid his sheet back.
No words.
After the bell, papers were collected.
Results came fast. Too fast.
"Neil," Mrs. Chatterjee said, frowning. "Ten."
Ten.
Not terrible.
But not forgiven.
She sighed. "I expected more."
Neil nodded. "So did I, ma'am."
That stung more than shouting.
Samar Crosses the Line
During lunch, Neil hovered near our table.
Not sitting.
Just… present.
Samar didn't look up. "You lost your assigned seating?"
Neil swallowed. "I just wanted to—"
Samar stood.
The cafeteria went quiet.
"You wanted what?" he asked. "To come back after enjoying VIP treatment?"
Neil didn't argue.
Didn't explain.
"I messed up," he said quietly.
Samar laughed once. "Congratulations. Self-awareness unlocked."
People stared.
I felt my chest tighten.
"Enough," I said sharply.
Samar froze.
Neil shook his head. "It's fine."
It wasn't.
Samar walked away, jaw tight.
Kabir watched Neil for a long second.
Then said, "Sit."
Neil sat.
Didn't smile.
Didn't thank him.
That mattered.
Neil Takes the Fall
Group activity. English.
Mrs. D'Souza grouped us deliberately badly.
Front benchers smirked.
Our group presentation went wrong—slides missing, topic incomplete.
Mrs. D'Souza's eyes narrowed. "Who was responsible?"
Before I could speak, Neil stood.
"I was," he said. "I mixed up the files."
I stared at him.
It wasn't his fault.
"You sure?" the teacher pressed.
"Yes, ma'am."
Punishment followed. Extra assignment. Public note in the register.
Neil sat back down.
Hands shaking.
Kabir leaned in. "You didn't have to."
Neil replied softly, "I wanted to."
Kabir nodded once.
That was the test.
Neil passed.
Rhea Notices (And Hates That She Does)
Later, I found my missing notes on my desk.
No name.
Same handwriting I'd seen fixing equations.
Neil walked past without looking at me.
I hated that my throat tightened.
I hated that redemption was working.
Kabir Speaks (Finally)
End of day. Corridor emptying.
Kabir stopped Neil near the stairs.
Neil froze.
Kabir didn't accuse him.
Didn't forgive him.
He said, "If you ever choose comfort over people again—don't come back."
Neil met his eyes. "I won't."
Kabir nodded. "Good."
That was it.
No handshake.
No welcome.
But the door wasn't closed anymore.
End Note
Samar didn't talk to Neil that day.
Or the next.
But he stopped mocking him.
And in our world?
That was progress.
As we walked out, Neil stayed a step behind us.
Not part of the last row.
Not excluded either.
Just… earning ground.
And I realised something uncomfortable:
Second chances don't arrive with apologies.
They arrive with consequences.
And Neil?
He was finally paying them.😔