Ayaan's POV
The next morning, school felt louder than usual to Ayaan.
The corridors were filled with footsteps, laughter, and the usual chaos, but his mind wasn’t part of it. He walked in with his friends, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, eyes scanning the crowd without meaning to.
He told himself he was just bored.
But every time he turned a corner, a small part of him expected to see her.
In class, he sat at the back as always. Teachers talked, students whispered, notes were passed around. Ayaan leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk, staring out of the window. His thoughts kept drifting back to yesterday—to the way she stood her ground, to the way she didn’t look impressed by him.
He frowned.
He didn’t like distractions.
And yet, here she was.
The bell rang.
Students rushed out, filling the corridor within seconds. Ayaan stood up slowly, following his friends, when he saw her.
She was standing near the notice board, reading something carefully. Same simple uniform. Same focused expression. A notebook held close to her chest.
There.
Her.
Ayaan stopped walking.
His friends took a few steps ahead before noticing he wasn’t with them anymore.
One of them turned back and said,
“Kya hua?”
Ayaan didn’t answer.
She moved away from the notice board and started walking down the corridor—straight towards him. His heartbeat picked up again, annoying him. He stayed where he was, pretending to look relaxed.
As she came closer, she noticed him too.
Their eyes met.
This time, she didn’t stop.
She walked past him, brushing his shoulder slightly as she did. No apology. No reaction. Like he didn’t matter.
Ayaan turned around instantly.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
He caught up to her in two long steps and walked beside her.
“Tum kal—”
She stopped abruptly and turned to face him.
Her eyes were sharp now.
“School mein baat mat karo.”
That caught him off guard.
He blinked once, then smirked.
“Tum mujhe rules bataogi?”
She didn’t smile.
“Mujhe problem nahi chahiye.”
For the first time, Ayaan saw something else beneath her calm expression a fear. Not of him exactly, but of what talking to him could bring.
He lowered his voice slightly,
“Main koi problem nahi hoon.”
She looked at him for a long second.
Then said quietly,
“Tumhare jaise log hi problem hote hain.”
Ouch.
Before he could reply, a teacher’s voice echoed down the corridor. She stepped back immediately, creating distance between them like it was necessary to breathe.
She walked away.
Ayaan stood there, watching her disappear into a classroom.
His friends walked up behind him.
One of them laughed,
“Bhai, woh ladki toh tujhe ignore kar gayi.”
Another added,
“Pehli baar dekha hai tujhe aise.”
Ayaan didn’t respond.
He looked at the classroom door she had gone through.
Ignore karna sabse badi challenge hota hai.
Aur Ayaan Malhotra challenges se door kabhi nahi bhaagta.
Somewhere between the ringing bells and crowded corridors,
school had just become interesting again.
After school , The house was unusually quiet that evening.
Ayaan dropped his bag near the sofa and loosened his tie, glancing around. No voices. No movement. Just silence, as always.
Arnav was sitting at the dining table with his books spread in front of him. He looked focused, but the way he kept rubbing his forehead said otherwise.
Ayaan stopped near him.
He didn’t ask immediately.
He watched for a moment, pretending to check his phone, pretending this was casual. But his eyes kept going back to the notebook Arnav was working on. The handwriting was neat. Familiar.
Finally, Ayaan spoke,
“Aaj tuition tha?”
Arnav looked up, surprised.
“Haan.”
Ayaan nodded slowly, leaning against the table.
“Wahi ladki padhati hai?”
Arnav hesitated.
That pause said more than words.
“Uska naam Tara hai.”
Tara.
The name settled in Ayaan’s mind easily. Too easily.
He kept his expression neutral.
“Achha padhati hai?”
Arnav nodded quickly.
“Haan. Samajh aa jata hai.”
Ayaan noticed the respect in his brother’s voice. It was rare.
He asked another question, careful with his tone,
“Roz aati hai?”
“Haan. School ke baad.”
Every day.
Ayaan straightened.
“Zyada bolti hai?”
Arnav shook his head.
“Nahi. Sirf padhai.”
That sounded like her.
Ayaan stayed quiet for a moment, then asked,
“Mujhe dekh ke ghabra gayi thi kya?”
Arnav frowned slightly.
“Nahi.”
Then, after a second, he added,
“Par woh darpok bhi nahi hai.”
That made Ayaan smile without meaning to.
“Mujhe kaise treat karti hai?” Ayaan asked, softer now.
Arnav thought for a moment.
“Jaise main sirf student hoon.”
No special treatment.
No fake kindness.
Ayaan pushed himself off the table.
“Usse bolna, tuition ke time school ke baahar khadi na ho.”
Arnav looked confused.
“Kyun?”
Ayaan didn’t answer right away.
Then he said,
“Bas bol dena.”
He walked away, leaving Arnav with his questions.
In his room, Ayaan lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Tara.
A tutor.
Responsible.
Unimpressed.
He closed his eyes.
He told himself this curiosity would pass.
But deep down, he already knew it wouldn’t.
_____
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