The school bell rang, its sharp clang echoing through the narrow corridors of St. Mary's High School. Chameli hurried into her classroom, her sandals slapping against the worn linoleum floor. The room was already buzzing with chatter—students comparing homework, gossiping about the latest Bollywood scandal, or complaining about the upcoming math test. Chameli slid into her seat near the window, her desk scarred with years of carved initials and doodles. She set her bag down and glanced at the blackboard, where the day's schedule was written in chalky, uneven letters.
Her best friend, Priya, plopped down into the seat beside her, her uniform slightly askew and her hair tied up in a messy ponytail. "You look like you didn't sleep at all," Priya said, her voice laced with concern. She leaned closer, her dark eyes narrowing as she studied Chameli's face. "What's going on? You've been quiet all week."
Chameli shrugged, avoiding Priya's gaze. "Nothing. Just tired." She opened her notebook and pretended to focus on the notes from the previous day, but the words blurred together, meaningless. Her mind was elsewhere—back in the small apartment, where her father's voice had been tense and pleading on the phone that morning. She could still hear the muffled words, the desperation in his tone. "I'll pay you back, I swear it." Who had he been talking to? And why did it feel like the walls of their life were closing in?
Priya wasn't convinced. She reached over and gently tugged the notebook away. "Hey. Look at me." When Chameli finally met her eyes, Priya's expression softened. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here."
Chameli hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the desk. She wanted to tell Priya everything—about the unpaid bills, the whispers of debt, the way her father's shoulders seemed to sag more with each passing day. But the words stuck in her throat. How could she explain something she didn't fully understand herself? Instead, she forced a smile and said, "It's nothing, really. Just… family stuff."
Priya raised an eyebrow but didn't push further. She knew Chameli well enough to recognize when she was shutting down. "Okay," she said, leaning back in her chair. "But if you change your mind, I'm all ears. And if you need a distraction, I've got the latest gossip about Rohan and Anjali. Apparently, they were holding hands behind the canteen yesterday."
Chameli chuckled, the tension in her chest easing slightly. "Rohan and Anjali? Really? I thought she hated him after he spilled juice on her during the school picnic."
"Exactly!" Priya said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "That's what makes it so juicy. Love-hate relationships are always the most dramatic."
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Kapoor, the stern but fair math teacher. She strode into the room with her usual air of authority, her sari neatly pressed and her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. "Good morning, class," she said, setting a stack of papers on her desk. "I hope you've all reviewed the chapter on quadratic equations because today's test will not be easy."
A collective groan rose from the students, but Chameli barely registered it. She stared out the window, where the branches of a neem tree swayed gently in the breeze. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. For a moment, she let herself imagine a different life—one where her father wasn't weighed down by debt, where she didn't have to worry about unpaid bills or the fear of losing their home. A life where she could just be a normal teenager, laughing with Priya about crushes and school gossip.
But the fantasy didn't last long. Mrs. Kapoor's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. "Chameli Deshmukh, are you with us today?"
Chameli snapped her head back to the front of the room, her cheeks flushing. "Yes, ma'am," she said quickly, though she had no idea what the question was.
Mrs. Kapoor gave her a knowing look but didn't press further. "Good. Then perhaps you can solve problem number three on the board."
Chameli stood, her heart pounding as she walked to the front of the room. The problem was a quadratic equation, something she usually excelled at, but her mind was a blank slate. She picked up the chalk and stared at the numbers, willing herself to focus. Behind her, she could hear the faint whispers of her classmates, their voices a low hum of curiosity and judgment.
After what felt like an eternity, she scribbled an answer on the board and returned to her seat, her hands trembling slightly. Mrs. Kapoor glanced at the solution and nodded. "Correct," she said, her tone softening. "But try to pay attention next time, Chameli. You're too bright to let distractions get the better of you."
Chameli nodded, her face still burning with embarrassment. Priya gave her a sympathetic smile and whispered, "You okay?"
"Yeah," Chameli replied, though her voice was barely audible. She stared down at her notebook, the numbers and equations swimming before her eyes. For the rest of the class, she tried to focus, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the apartment, to her father, to the growing sense of dread that seemed to follow her everywhere.