By Wednesday, the whispers weren't whispers anymore. They were wildfire.
Ananya felt it the moment she entered the cafeteria. Heads swiveled, eyes darted, conversations stopped mid-sentence. Then, like a switch, the buzz started again—louder, sharper, full of laughter that wasn't really laughter at all.
"She stayed all night with him—everyone knows.""Group project, my foot.""Bet she thinks she's special."
Ananya's hands tightened around her tray. She told herself to keep walking, to ignore it, but her ears burned. She barely made it to a table before a voice cut through the air like a knife.
"Hey, Khan!"
Every head turned. Riyan, carrying nothing but a bottle of water, paused mid-stride. The guy who'd called out—Raghav, star of the basketball team, part-time campus loudmouth—leaned back in his chair with a grin that screamed trouble.
"So, it's true then? You finally gave the library queen some after-hours tutoring?" His words dripped with mockery. The table around him erupted in laughter.
Ananya froze. Her pulse spiked, her throat went dry.
Riyan didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. He just set his bottle down on the nearest table and strode over, eyes locked on Raghav. The air thickened; the cafeteria went silent, waiting for the explosion.
"You've got a big mouth," Riyan said, voice low, dangerous. "Careful before it gets you into trouble."
Raghav shrugged, unfazed. "Relax, man. We're just having fun. Unless you're saying there's something more? 'Cause from what I hear—"
Riyan's hand slammed onto the table, hard enough to rattle plates. The laughter choked off.
Ananya's breath caught. She wanted to vanish, to melt into the floor, but she couldn't move.
"Say her name again," Riyan said, each word sharp enough to cut. "I dare you."
For one tense heartbeat, no one spoke. Then Raghav leaned back, palms raised. "Touchy. Alright, alright. Didn't know she was off-limits."
The moment the words left his mouth, the cafeteria buzzed like a hornet's nest. Off-limits. The phrase spread like fuel on fire.
Ananya couldn't take it anymore. She shot up from her seat, tray clattering. "Stop it!"
Every eye swung to her. Her voice shook, but she forced it out anyway. "It's not true. None of it. So just—just leave us out of your pathetic jokes."
The silence that followed was worse than the laughter.
Riyan turned, eyes on her, something unreadable flickering across his face—pride, anger, maybe even regret.
But it didn't matter. Because in that moment, Ananya knew: gossip had crossed the line into something she couldn't ignore. And whether she liked it or not, she and Riyan were in this together now.