DYLAN'S POV
"What's all this?" I questioned aloud, standing by the hallway door.
The beautiful commoner trembled and slowly opened her shiny black, slanted eyes, her lashes fluttering together delicately.
She wasn't getting up from Richie—she was just lying on him, pretending to be clueless.
"Won't you stand up again?" I asked. She held onto his silver-lined jacket tightly, pretending not to hear me.
I fell silent and watched the two of them exchange glances.
"Sorry," Rich mumbled.
"Sorry too. It was my fault," she replied in a whisper, then stood up and adjusted her head warmer.
Richie also stood up and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Sorry," she said again, bowing slightly as she started dusting off Richie's expensive jacket.
"It's okay," Richie said, stopping her by gently holding her tiny hands.
She glanced at me, then back at Richie.
"Go to your room. Your tutor will be here soon," Richie told her.
"Okay." She bowed again and walked toward the hallway door—right where I was standing. She bowed once more as she passed by my side to the exterior.
I glanced at her snow-white bangle to confirm my suspicion before jumping to conclusions.
On the bangle, the name NANARE was boldly inscribed. I stared at her until she disappeared from sight.
Could she be the one?
It would be better if she's not the same Nanare I secretly fell in love with during my tour in Delhi...
Gaaahd, why all this?
Must it always be Richie and me?
Richie and I are best friends, and I don't want anything—or anyone—to come between us.
I'm so foolish! I slammed my forehead and remembered how I had sent one of my guards to stylishly steal one of her bangles for me a few years ago.
This is really awkward...
I'm her secret admirer. And now... my best friend is slowly falling in love with her.
Gaaahd!!! Will this ever end?
I slapped my forehead again and saw Richie giving me a "are you okay?" look.
"I'm okay," I said, returning his look.
We walked to the parking lot together, but Nare's image was still messing with my mind.
"Dylan, are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?" Richie asked.
Only then did I realize I was walking with my eyes closed.
"I don't need a practitioner. I'm perfectly fine," I replied and walked briskly to my car.
"I'm sure you'll need one soon," Richie muttered before heading to his car.
We left the mansion at the same time and arrived at school together.
I stepped out of my car and waited for Richie, but he was taking forever. Finally, he got out, holding his phones and notepads, and we walked to our personal class.
"I'm still not certain you're fine," he said.
"I am," I assured him.
We entered our private classroom—just Scot, KD, Richie, and me—to avoid distractions.
I once heard a girl fainted upon seeing Richie.
Girls are always all over him. He's their dream guy, and he enjoys the attention and superiority. That alone makes him wildly popular.
"Awwww, I'll still steal this jacket!" Scot exclaimed as we entered.
Richie smiled and sat on his custom-made seat, decorated with a presidential logo. He plugged in his headset and went on his phone.
KD gave him some cold glares. It was obvious the two of them hated each other.
The lecturer entered, and we immediately composed ourselves. We were all afraid of ruthless Sir Andrew.
Richie didn't drop his phone. He kept pressing it and even sang softly while Sir Andrew lectured on the smartboard.
Sir Andrew, furious, turned to him.
"What was my last statement?" he asked directly.
Richie ignored him and kept focusing on his phone.
"Richie Miles, I'm speaking to you!" Sir Andrew raised his voice.
"Andrew, is there any problem?" Richie asked, rolling his eyes.
Scot giggled in his seat.
"What was my last statement?" Sir Andrew asked again, this time even more sternly.
"What's wrong with this one?" Scot muttered.
"The answer is 5x²," Richie replied smartly.
"That's not what I said! I said the answer is 5x!" Andrew blurted.
"If the answer is 5x, then you're stupid!" Scot exclaimed.
"Andrew, you'll get sanctions and queries for teaching gibberish," Richie said coldly, still holding his phone.
"Plus, you'll get sacked!" Scot added.
"I'm sorry—it was a mistake. I promise it won't happen again!" Andrew pleaded. But it was too late—Richie had already placed a call.
Sir Andrew walked out of the classroom.
"Dylan, please help me beg Richie. I don't want to lose my job. I need it badly!" Sir Andrew turned to me with teary eyes.
Scot laughed.
"It's better this way. I've always wanted you sacked. I'm tired of your old, ugly face!" he mocked.
"Dylan, please help me!" Andrew begged again, making a pleading face.
I ignored him, picked up my phone and notepad, and walked out. He followed me.
He even followed me to my car, causing a scene.
"Sir Andrew, stop following me. I'm not the one who got you into trouble," I said quietly, noticing phones being held up to record.
"What's happening?"
"Appa, is something wrong?"
"Can we sort it out?"
"Why did your smile suddenly disappear?"
I started hearing murmurs around.
I finally managed to get into my car.
Angrily, I gripped the steering wheel and slammed my foot on the accelerator. I drove out of the school. I didn't even know where I was going—I just kept driving.
Eventually, I stopped in front of Richie's enchanted mansion and drove in.
I parked in the lot. Just then, my phone beeped. It was KD.
"Why is he calling me?" I muttered, ending the call.
I stepped out of the car and took off my designer jacket.
"Is Richie around?" I asked one of the guards.
"No sir, he's not," he replied with a bow.
"Where did he go?"
"Maybe to attend to some business partners," the guard answered.
"Hmm, okay," I mumbled and reached for my phone to call Richie.
Just then, another car drove in.
I paused dialing and watched, thinking it might be Richie.
I focused on the car as it parked.
Two ladies stepped out from each side of the car, dressed in white long-sleeve shirts, short black skirts, and black pop socks. In their hands were books, pens, pencils, iPads, and phones.
They opened the back door—and she stepped out.
She looked like she was coming from school, a fancy purple backpack slung on her shoulder.
I stared at Nanare, the girl I secretly admired.
"Aunty Roshni, thank you!" she smiled at the one holding her books and iPad.
"You're welcome," Roshni replied with a bow.
"Okay, ma'am," Nare muttered and collected her things.
"Aunty Roshni, Namaste!" she waved and took the car key from her driver.
The two aunties left. She smiled and turned—only to meet my gaze.
She looked away and clutched her books tightly.
I walked toward her.
She bowed, like a loyal servant.
"Good evening," she said, lips parted nervously.
I was stunned. She looked uncomfortable.
"Good evening!" she shouted and ran inside, making sure to close the door properly.