The next morning started the same—rushed footsteps, half-hearted greetings, and the endless echo of conversations filling the corridors. But today felt different. Maybe it was because she was back.
"Riya!" came a familiar voice from behind. I turned around to see Sana, my best friend, walking toward me with a wide smile and a bag slung loosely over her shoulder.
She had missed school the day Vishal returned. Lucky her.
"Where were you?" I asked, my tone softer than I expected. "You missed the chaos."
"What chaos?" she said, curious. "You look like you've been through a storm."
I smirked. "That's… not far from the truth."
We walked to class together and slipped into the last bench, away from the usual crowd. I didn't waste time. The words spilled out of me like I had been holding them back for too long.
"He came back, Sana. Vishal."
Her eyes widened. "Vishal? As in—that Vishal?"
I nodded. "He's different now. Everyone's acting like he's some kind of celebrity. It's so annoying."
Sana listened silently, her face a mix of surprise and curiosity as I told her everything—how he looked now, how Aanya and Priya wouldn't stop talking about him, and how I felt like I was being pulled back into something I wasn't ready for.
As I finished, the classroom door opened and the energy shifted. Vishal walked in.
He looked straight at me.
But I didn't flinch. I kept my face blank, my eyes on the desk. Sana, though, looked between the two of us like she was watching a silent movie with no subtitles.
"Okay… that was intense," she whispered.
We didn't get to say much more before the fourth period started. But maybe we were too loud—maybe we were laughing too much—because the teacher stopped mid-sentence and stared straight at us.
"You two. To the front bench. Now."
I groaned as we gathered our things and moved to the front, feeling every pair of eyes on us, including his.
The period dragged on, and as soon as the bell rang for recess, we returned to our seats. That's when Aman, one of the boys in our class, leaned across with a mischievous grin.
"So, Riya," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "what happened to that guy we saw at our main school? Something going on between you two?"
My blood boiled instantly. "What are you even talking about?" I snapped.
He just laughed. "Don't get so serious. Should I send you his Insta ID, or do you already have it?"
I clenched my fists. "If you don't know anything, then don't talk nonsense!" I snapped louder this time, my voice echoing across the room.
Aman laughed harder, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Chill, yaar. I'm just—"
"Shut up!" I shouted, standing up now. "Just shut up already!"
Sana tugged at my sleeve, whispering, "Riya, calm down. He's just being stupid."
But I was too far gone. And then I noticed something. Vishal.
He was sitting a few seats in front of Aman, watching the scene unfold with that same unreadable smile. Then, suddenly, he turned around, looked straight at Aman, and lightly punched him on the arm.
"Chup kar, idiot," Vishal said with a grin, but there was something sharp in his voice.
Aman blinked, surprised. "Arrey, chill. Just teasing."
"What were you saying anyway?" Vishal asked, leaning back in his seat. "Who's this mystery guy you're shipping her with?"
Aman laughed nervously. "Oh, just someone from her main school. I'll send you his Insta ID if you want."
I had enough.
Before anyone else could say a word, I grabbed my bag and walked straight out of the class. I didn't care about the stares or whispers. I needed to breathe.
Sana ran after me. "Riya, wait!"
But I didn't stop until I was out in the corridor, far from the noise, far from him, far from everything.
I paced the corridor, my mind racing. The sounds of the classroom faded as I stepped farther away from the noise, farther away from him. I didn't even care if they thought I was being dramatic or overreacting. It was too much—Vishal, the teasing, the way everything seemed to unravel every time he was near.
I found myself by the stairs, leaning against the railing, trying to calm my thoughts. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to feel vulnerable. But the anger, the confusion, and the hurt felt like a whirlwind inside me.
"Riya!"
Sana's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts, and I didn't even turn to face her. She was still catching up, trying to match my pace.
I could hear her footsteps now, closer. She stopped beside me, silent for a moment. I didn't look at her, but I could feel the weight of her gaze. She knew me too well, and I knew she wouldn't let this go without talking.
"Riya," she said again, softer this time. "Talk to me. What's really going on?"
I wanted to snap at her, tell her I needed space, but the words got stuck. Why does he have this power over me? I didn't ask for it. I didn't want it. So why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
"He's not who I thought he was," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "He... I don't know. He came back different, and I don't know how to deal with it."
Sana stood next to me, her presence calm. "What do you mean? What's different about him?"
I pressed my forehead against the cool railing, feeling the weight of the world. "He's just... there, like he owns the room. And everyone acts like he's some kind of hero now. It's like he's been gone for years, and when he comes back, everything changes."
Sana stayed quiet for a moment, then said, "It's not just him, is it? It's you, too."
I blinked, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?"
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze gentle but knowing. "You're still holding onto something from the past. Something about him is pulling you back in, whether you want it or not."
I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. She was right. Something about Vishal's return, the way he'd looked at me today, had stirred something deep inside me. A feeling I thought I'd buried.
"I just—" I started, my throat tightening. "I don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to care."
Sana's hand found mine, a gesture of solidarity. "You can't control how you feel, Riya. It's okay to feel all of this. But you can decide what you do with it."
Her words lingered in the air between us, and for the first time that day, I felt my breathing slow. "I don't know what to do with it," I whispered.
Just then, a voice from behind us broke the silence.
"Riya?"
I spun around, my heart skipping a beat. Vishal stood at the entrance to the corridor, his face unreadable. My stomach twisted in an instant.
"What do you want?" I snapped before I could stop myself.
He held up his hands, a sign of peace, but there was something in his eyes—something more than the usual cocky charm. "I just wanted to talk to you."
I didn't say anything, my gaze shifting to the ground. Vishal took a cautious step closer.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable today. With Aman, I mean."
My head snapped up, disbelief flashing in my eyes. "You think that's why I walked out? Because of what he said?"
Vishal faltered, his expression flickering. "I know it wasn't just that. I could see it. You looked like you wanted to be anywhere but there."
I didn't know what to say. I wanted to yell at him, tell him to stop acting like he cared, but a part of me—the part I hated—wanted to believe him. That maybe, just maybe, he did.
Sana stepped in before I could respond, her voice cutting through the tension. "Riya's not in the mood for this right now, Vishal."
He looked at her, then back at me. "I get it. I just wanted to clear the air. And… maybe if you're ready, we can talk more later."
With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps slowly fading into the distance. I stood there, feeling the weight of everything he had just said.
Sana's grip tightened around my hand. "You okay?"
I nodded, though I wasn't sure if I was. "I don't know what to think anymore."
Sana gave me a knowing look. "It's okay to not know. But you can't keep running away from it, either."
I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I leaned my head on her shoulder, letting the silence wrap around us. It was strange, the way life worked—how people could come and go, leave marks without meaning to, and leave you wondering if anything would ever be the same again.