I took out my textbook and a notebook to take notes. The teacher entered the classroom after about three minutes. It was the same teacher who had taught me the subject last year.
She stood at the center, asked everyone to take out their textbooks, and began writing the topic on the board.
Chemistry was never a piece of cake for me, unlike those top scorers who studied it for fun. Last year, I couldn't even grasp the basics. Everyone in the classroom probably thought I had some experience in the course, but they were wrong. Just like them, I was starting from square one.
The teacher scanned the room, her eyes stopping on me after just a few glances.
"How are you, Shlok? Everything good?" she asked.
Why the fuck is everyone trying to make me the center of attention? Aghhh, can't I just be invisible for a while?
"I'm fine," I muttered, struggling to keep my composure.
She nodded and started teaching. What a relief. I'm safe… for now.
I focused on taking notes, and before I knew it, the lecture was over. Time had flown by. It was the first time in ages that I actually understood Chemistry. The class ended in what felt like a blink.
Lecture after lecture passed, and soon it was recess.Everyone unpacked their lunchboxes and gathered in groups, occupying the back benches. Since I didn't have any friends in the classroom yet, I grabbed my lunch and stepped outside.I found myself back in that corridor. But this time, it wasn't nightmarish or suffocating. It was bustling with students walking in groups, chatting, laughing, shouting. The whole school felt alive.
Yet, despite the liveliness, I still felt like an outsider.I was like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong jigsaw—out of place but necessary to complete the picture.I walked through the crowd and made my way to my old classmates' classroom. They were in 12th grade now.
Fighting my nervousness, I opened the door.
Once again, all eyes turned to me.
But this time, the stares didn't sting. They weren't filled with judgment or curiosity. Instead, they were warm—welcoming.
In an instant, my old friends rushed toward me, almost dashing in excitement.
"Bro, where have you been?" "How have you been, man?" "Everything okay?"
A genuine smile formed on my lips as I answered them.We sat together, eating lunch while catching up on everything I had missed after failing.
"Yo, bro, do you know who Rohan is dating now?"
"Who?" I asked, not particularly interested.
"Well, turns out, it's your sister, Priya."
That caught me off guard. My sister had dated a few guys before, but none of those experiences had ended well for her. I didn't think she'd get into another relationship so soon.Not that I was against it—I was just surprised at her choices.
"Who cares? She's not my real sister, is she?"
That was true. Priya was the daughter of my father's close friend, someone I had been calling "Uncle" since childhood. But still, we cared about each other like real siblings.
As the break came to an end, I packed up my stuff and said my goodbyes.
I walked back into my classroom and sat at my desk, letting my eyes wander around the room. That's when I noticed something.Shivika was staring at me. Again.
What's her deal? I thought. I'm not even good-looking. Did I do something to her? Ahhh, God knows!
Our eyes met for a brief second before she casually turned her gaze away, acting like she hadn't been watching me this whole time. She stood just two to three meters away, talking to Aysha. But now that I was seeing her up close, I couldn't help but notice something.
She looked… kinda hot.
Her figure was slender and elegant, like a model's—tall and well-proportioned, with a natural grace that made every movement seem effortless. She wasn't just slim; there was a certain sharpness to her frame, a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself.
Her school uniform only added to that aura. The crisp white shirt, neatly tucked into fitted gray pants, gave her a polished look, the blue tie resting perfectly in place. Over it, she wore the school blazer—button undone, hanging slightly loose on her shoulders, like she didn't care much for the rules yet still managed to look put together.
She stood with a relaxed yet assertive posture, shoulders back, head slightly tilted as she spoke. There was something bold about the way she leaned toward Aysha, her fingers brushing her hair back in a slow, deliberate motion. She wasn't fidgety or awkward like most students in the class. Instead, every action felt measured, like she knew exactly how to present herself.The way the fabric of her uniform fit her—structured yet effortless—only highlighted that presence. She didn't try too hard. She didn't need to.
Fuck off, Shlok. Are you a molester or something? Stop staring at her, will you?
I smacked my forehead against my desk, trying to shake off whatever thoughts were forming in my head. I turned my eyes back to my manga, determined to ignore the distraction.
But now that I was paying attention, I could hear her voice clearly.And it was breathtaking.
Her voice was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It wasn't just sweet—it had a smoothness to it, like honey drizzled over sharp glass. Soft yet commanding. It carried a certain weight, as if every word she spoke held meaning. It wasn't high-pitched or exaggeratedly feminine. Instead, it was deep enough to be captivating, with just the right amount of sharpness to make it impossible to ignore.There was something hypnotic about the way she spoke, each syllable rolling off her tongue effortlessly. She didn't just talk—she knew how to control her tone, weaving a melody into her words. It was the kind of voice that could draw attention without trying. The kind that could silence a room if she wanted to.
It was the kind of voice that made you want to listen.Like she could command someone to do something, and they wouldn't even realize they were obeying.
It was mesmerizing.
Get your shit together, Shlok!