The sunlight peeked in as Amaira stood in front of the mirror, half-asleep and brushing her hair, tying it up in her usual neat ponytail.

Her uniform was ready, her bag packed, and yet something felt... off.

That's when she walked past Dhruv's room-and this menace was in bed. Still wrapped in his blanket.

She stopped. Blinked. Walked back.

"Tujhe aaj school nhi jaana??"

Dhruv, with his eyes closed, mumbled, "Nhii, aaj school ki chutti hai"

Amaira raised an eyebrow. "Achha toh mere school ki chutti kyu nhi?"

There was a pause. The silence got suspiciously heavy.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Koi baat nhi me Avni se puch leti hu-"

"NAHII!!!" Dhruv shot up like he saw a ghost. "Avni se kyun poochhna hai yaar?"

Amaira folded her arms. "Kya chhupa raha hai?"

He looked at her. Then looked away.

Then looked at her again. Sigh.

"Fine. Us maha khadush principal ne teen din ke liye suspend kar diya"

She blinked. "Kya?? Kyu???"

"Woh... we were in the canteen and someone...... matlab me and Avni....started a food fight and... I accidentally threw paneer gravy on principal sir."

Amaira stared. "You WHAT?"

"And then sir bohut funny lag rhe the toh main hasa. Toh principal sir ne pucha 'you think it's funny?' And I said yes..."

There was a beat of silence.

Amaira facepalmed. "Tu do din ke liye bhi normal nhi reh sakta na? Aur ek sec, Avni ko suspension kyu nhi mila?"

Dhruv frowned remembering the moment "Woh bohut chalak hai. Principal sir use dekhe, uske pehle hi woh bhag gyi aur mujhe akela chhor diya"

Amaira chuckled. "Bhai tu kuch sikh le apni dost se"

"Dhoka dena kehte hai ise" he interjected

"Dimag lagana kehte hai ise." Amaira retorted back.

A thought passed through her mind as she smirked "Waise agar papa ko bata diya toh"

Dhruv made puppy eyes, joining his palms "Please Papa ko mat batana.... Bohut mehnat se phone chori kiya hai, dobara chhin lenge"

Amaira smirked. "Hmm.... Me shayad apna muh band rakh sakti hu"

"Shayad?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Bas ek deal hai"

He narrowed his eyes. "Kaisi deal?"

She crossed her arms "Return my diary. Wahi diary jisme maine signatures kiye the"

Dhruv groaned. "Cheating hai ye"

She winked. "Blackmail ka badla blackmail se"

And just like that, peace was restored-for now.

Amaira sat straight at the table in her uniform that's when Dhruv came in, with his blanket half wrapped around his shoulder and his hairs ruffled.

Prakash Gupta walked in, sipping his tea and checking some office messages on his phone. He looked at both of them, suspicious as ever.

"Tu aaj school nhi jaa rha, Dhruv?" he asked casually, but there was weight in that question.

Before the menace could even open his mouth, Amaira jumped in like a trained lawyer.

"Papa, boards exams aa rahe hain na, toh sirf 10th class ki classes lag rahi hain. Baaki sabki chhutti hai. That's why."

Prakash raised an eyebrow. "Accha...?" He looked at Dhruv slowly. "Matlab tum dono mein se sirf ek ki class chal rahi hai?"

Amaira nodded like a robot, chewing on her paratha. Dhruv smiled, relieved. Saved.

But not for long.

Prakash wiped his hands and folded his arms. "Toh Dhruv beta, poora din ghar par ho toh padai kar lena. Jo bhi homework mila hai, sab complete karo. Shaam ko main check karunga."

Dhruv choked on his milk.

"Papa aap-khud check karenge?"

Amaira tried so hard not to laugh that her whole face turned red. She was pressing her lips together when-

"Waise bhi," Sunita Gupta entered like a silent bomb, drying her hands on her dupatta, "aaj ghar pe kaam bohut hai, toh Dhruv bartan dho dega, jhaadu-pocha bhi kar lena... thoda kaam seekh le."

Amaira couldn't hold anymore and bursted out laughing.

Dhruv glared at her, and then to his family

"Tum sab mile hue ho. Is ghar mein meri koi value nahi hai."

Amaira wiped her tears of laughter. "Value achhe logo ki hoti hai na Dhruv."

"Chup reh le!" he hissed at her from the side of his mouth.

But the damage was done.

____________________________________________

The clock hit 1 PM.

Dhruv was mopping the floor half heartedly when his phone rang with a notification, which was undoubtedly from Avni Verma.

“Enjoying the suspension day?🥰”

“Pehli baat toh ye ghatiya emojis use karna band kar and dusri chiz, jale par namak chhirakne ki koi jarurat nhi hai.”

“Pagal hai kya, me namak kyu phekungi? Isse achha me tujhe namak me na phek du” she smirked as she typed back.

His left eye twitched as if he wants to smack her “Ho gya bakwas?”

“Yaar tujhe biswas nhi hoga, aaj Principal sir absent the. Yaha tak ki Maths teacher bhi absent the and yes yes extra games period bhi mila”

Dhruv read through the text and cursed himself internally  'Jab me absent hota hu, tabhi kyu ye sab hota hai'

So he typed back “Majak toh nhi kar rhi?”

“Majak ke sath koi majak kar sakta hai, kya?”

“TERI TOH—” he was typing when he realised she went offline as always.

So he looked up at God 'Hey bhagwan, aapko bhi lagta hai kya me majak hu?'

That's when he heard his mother's phone ringing like god gave him a sign.

Later, Amaira dragged herself home, her school bag hanging off one shoulder like it was mourning her with her.

Her tie was loose, the heat outside unforgiving, and her only hope was a glass of cold water and silence.

She stepped in with her dirty shoes and-

"Apna joota bahar khol ke aa, abhi saaf kiya hai maine," a voice called out from inside.

She narrowed her eyes and stepped further in-only to stop dead in her tracks.

There he was. Dhruv Gupta.

Drenched in sweat and rage, dressed in a damp, brownish t-shirt, mop in one hand and a bucket in the other. The floor looked half-clean, half-crying.

Amaira blinked. And then-

"BAHAHAHA-"

A full-blown laugh erupted. She clutched her stomach, trying to breathe.

Dhruv, exhausted and already losing his sanity, gave her a death glare.

"Has le has le... abhi tujhe hasata hoon."

Before she could react, he dipped the mop dramatically back in the bucket and with zero warning, splashhh!

The dirty mop water— yes, the same water that cleaned the trail of dirt from the kitchen to the living room-was thrown right at her crisp school uniform.

"KUTTEEEE!"

The scream could be heard in three colonies.

She stood frozen for a moment, staring down at the now brownish splatter on her once-white uniform. And then she lunged.

"Aaj na main tera khoon kar dungi!"

She pounced at him like a wild cat, snatching the mop and chasing him around the sofa.

"Didiii-Arreeee!"

A cushion flew. The mop swung. Water splashed.

A sudden silence fell as they heard some footsteps

They both froze. And then...

"Kya ho raha hai yahaan?"

Sunita Gupta stood there, arms crossed and ready to smack them

Amaira fixed her hair and stood straight, wiping water off her face.

"Kuch bhi toh nhi hua. Woh me phisal gyi thi pani me bas"

Dhruv folded his hands behind his back, smiling nervously

"Aur paani mere haathon se gir gaya tha Maa, bhagwan ki kasam," Dhruv added, blinking rapidly.

WHACK.

Her palm connected with both their heads before they could even finish their next lie.

"Ek din tum log bina jhagda kiye reh nhi sakte kyaa?!"

They both stayed quiet and she spoke again "Ye jo pura living room ganda kiya hai na, saaf bhi kar dena"

She stormed off, muttering something about getting grey hairs early.

Amaira looked at Dhruv. Dhruv looked at Amaira. They glared at each other while rubbing their heads.

"Tu na bohut bura pitega kisi din," she muttered, slapping his shoulder.

"Aaj toh Bach gyi tu. Dobara nhi bachegi" he swatted her hands away and picked up his mop.

And just like that, the war ended-but only till the next round.

____________________________________________

TUITION

Amaira sighed, adjusting the strap of her bag as she walked toward the familiar rusting gate of the tuition ground.

Before she could even open her mouth to ask, Dhruv had already sprinted ahead like a criminal escaping justice.

"Important match hai," he tossed over his shoulder with that same overconfident grin, not even bothering to make it look convincing.

She didn't even try stopping him. Just rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Maha faltu insaan hai"

As she stepped inside, her eyes, as always, trailed to that one corner of the ground.

The swing.

Double-seated, old but oddly comforting. The place she always wanted to sit, but never had the nerve to.

Today, though, there were two other students lounging on it-laughing, scrolling through something on a phone, lost in their own world.

She paused. Just for a second. Like maybe today she'd ask. Maybe she'd claim that corner too.

But instead, she silently turned away, tightened the grip on her bag, and walked toward her bench.

Amaira tapped her pen on the desk, bored out of her mind and already half-regretting not faking a stomach ache to skip tuition.

Sir wasn’t here yet. The place buzzed with light chatter, a couple of students still walking in.

Nikhil walked in.

Her heart betrayed her before her mind could take control. It skipped. Just once—but enough.

She straightened instinctively, grip tightening on the pen.

She looked down at her notebook, trying to look uninterested, but her breath had other plans. It was fast, and Nikhil noticed.

His eyes narrowed. Not in a teasing way—but in that quiet, calculated way of his. He saw the way her shoulders stiffened. The way she blinked a little too fast.

"Phir se pen todne wali hai kya?" he mumbled under his breath, amused.

But before he could walk to his usual seat—BAM.

Aditya, who had entered just behind him, stumbled hard against his back.

"Oye sambhal ke!" Nikhil almost lost his footing.

Aditya caught himself before falling.

Behind him, Kashish stood frozen, one foot still awkwardly too close to his. Her face flushed with realization.

"Shit—I’m sorry! Main… main soch mein thi. Galti se pair lag gya me—" her voice stumbled.

Aditya turned slowly. Their eyes met.

For a moment—everything stilled.

Her breath caught, his hands curled into fists by his sides.

There was surprise in her eyes, yes. But also something else—something soft. Familiar. Like recognition.

Like a distant memory of fingers of silent walks near the school gate, of late night online chats, of laughter that echoed just loud enough to make them wonder if it meant something more.

He looked at her. And for a flicker of a second—there was a crack in his armor. A flicker of warmth in his gaze.

But then, just as quick—he pulled it all back.

"It's fine" he said flatly. His voice was steady, but his jaw clenched.

Nikhil, still rubbing his shoulder, watched it all unfold. "Yeh drama phir se shuru," he whispered under his breath, following Aditya with a thoughtful frown.

Inside, Aditya didn’t look back. His feet moved faster than his thoughts.

But his chest? It ached.

He hated the way her voice still made him stop for a second longer than he should’ve. He hated how his name on her lips felt like home.

Behind him, Kashish exhaled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more—the way he didn’t say much, or the way his eyes still did

Kashish scanned the room, still a little flustered from the moment outside, but when her eyes landed on Amaira, she exhaled softly.

A familiar face. A familiar soul. Someone she actually talked to—daily, relentlessly, even if it was just online.

Amaira saw her too and grinned, sliding her bag a little to make space.

"Yahaan baith ja, warna koi aur loot lega spot."

Kashish chuckled and took the seat beside her, whispering,

"Yaar tune tuition join kiya bataya bhi nhi"

Amaira playfully narrowed her eyes. "Tune bhi kaha bataya"

Kashish rubbed the back of her neck and smiled, "Achha haa yaad nhi tha. Waise ek aur shocking news — me tere area me shift ho gyi hu"

Her eyes widened "What? Really??? . Tu mere area mein kab shift hui??"

Kashish shrugged playfully, "Kuch din pehle. Chachu ka transfer hua tha toh aa gye."

Amaira nodded, already feeling the spark. "Ab toh maje aayenge. Akele boring lectures jhelne nhi padenge"

They shared a soft laugh—one of those rare ones that feel like the start of something.

Meanwhile, Nikhil glanced at Aditya. He knew. He knew everything.

But he said nothing.

Because some battles, even your best friend has to fight on his own.

As soon as Aditya and Nikhil walked further inside, they made a beeline to their usual bench. But like always, they reached at the exact same time.

Nikhil grabbed the edge. Aditya grabbed the same edge.

And both stared down at each other's hands like—

"Hat ja yaha se" Nikhil muttered.

"Main kyun hatun? Roz tu edge pe baithta hai, aaj meri turn hai."

"Abbe sapne dekh— tujhe pata bhi hai ki edge spot ka asli owner kaun hai?”

"Owner jaisi shakal honi bhi toh chahiye"

"Ha toh tere jaisa radhe ka Salman Khan banke toh nhi ghumta na"

They started pushing each other, like absolute five-year-olds fighting over the last piece of pizza.

Bags thumped. Bench creaked. The students around looked up.

And then— "Enough."

Enters Pradeep Sharma Sir.

With the calm of a monk and the sharpness of a sword.

He didn’t even raise his voice. Just gave one look—one single Dad Look—and the two froze mid-argument like they were mannequins.

"Since you both clearly have the maturity level of 4-year-olds, I’ll make the seating arrangement myself."

He turned to the class.

"Nikhil, shift. Sit next to… Amaira."

PAUSE.

Amaira’s eyes widened.

Kashish elbowed her under the table.

Aditya snorted so softly it almost didn’t count.

Nikhil quietly walked to her bench—like he wasn’t just being publicly exiled from his best friend.

But before he sat—he placed his bag smack in the middle of the bench. Like a 'do not cross' zone.

Amaira looked at the bag. Then at him.

He said nothing. Just opened his notebook casually like this was completely normal behaviour.

Kashish watched the whole thing as she leaned closer to Amaira and whispered,

"Tu zinda hai? Kyunki teri heartbeat toh table tak sunayi de rahi hai."

Amaira glared. "Shut up"

Her cheeks were definitely warmer than normal. Nikhil noticed too—but pretended not to.

Just then, Pradeep Sharma sir's voice boomed across the room.

"Amaira, open your notebook. Solve the next three questions from exercise 8.1.  I want them done by the end of class."

Her soul visibly left her body.

She opened the page, stared at the numbers like they were written in hieroglyphs. For a moment she tried.

Pen tapped against her chin. Tongue slightly sticking out in focus. But math? Math didn't love her back.

And he saw it.

From the corner of his eye, Nikhil glanced at her.

"Need help?" he asked, already leaning slightly.

She sat straighter. Pride kicked in. "No, I can do it"

He leaned back, smirking. "Suit yourself."

Two minutes later, the war was lost.

"Okay... maybe a little help," she mumbled under her breath.

He leaned back in, this time more relaxed, gently reached across to take her pen and their fingers brushed. Accidentally. Totally.

Her brain short-circuited.

He didn't comment, didn't smirk—just calmly explained the steps, slow and smooth, while her brain screamed in all caps.

She tried to focus. She really did.

Nikhil took the pen from her fingers gently, the way someone handles a secret, and leaned just a bit closer to see her notebook.

"Trigonometry?" he asked, glancing at the question. "Tan theta equals 1. Hmm... not that bad."

Amaira just stared at the question like it had insulted her entire lineage.

"Alright," he said, tapping the paper. "Tan theta = 1, right? That means...?"

She blinked.

"Uhhh... 45 degrees?"

He looked at her, pleasantly surprised. "Good. Tan theta is 1 at 45°. Now substitute 45° into the rest."

He scribbled slightly on the margin.

"Sin 45° = √2/2. Cos 45° = also √2/2. So now put it here-8 sin theta + 5 cos theta becomes..."

"8 into √2/2 plus 5 into √2/2?" she guessed.

He nodded, "Yup. Now take out √2/2 as common."

He paused, giving her the pen back.

Her fingers curled around it again, and this time... she didn't flinch.

"√2/2 into (8 + 5)," she whispered, eyes scanning the steps.

"Which is?"

"13√2/2!" she said, a little too loud. A few heads turned. She didn't care.

For the first time in forever, she had actually understood something in maths.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at her lips-genuine, relieved, proud.

Nikhil was just staring at her now.

And... he smiled. Just a small one.

But it sat on his face like a secret only he knew.

She looked up at him again, about to thank him, and he quickly turned away, straightening up in his seat like he'd been caught red-handed.

"No. No no no. What the hell was that?"

He literally whispered to himself under his breath "Don't smile like an idiot, Sharma. You're not interested."

But when she leaned forward again, solving the next question without help and grinning to herself...

He peeked once more. And yeah—He smiled again.

And Aditya?

He was watching the entire rom-com unfold like it was the 3pm StarPlus slot.

The moment Nikhil accidentally looked at Adityaa, he grinned and winked.

Nikhil blinked, looked away and muttered,

"Ab ye pure din sar khayega mera"

Aditya didn’t stop grinning.

And Nikhil didn’t stop smiling either.

Even when he tried.

___________________________________________