Rhea's Pov
The principal's office didn't look scary.
That was the problem.
No yelling. No chaos. Just a large desk, neat files, and a man who didn't raise his voice because he didn't need to.
Principal Malhotra looked at us over his glasses.
"Sit."
We sat.
Samar looked disappointed. "I expected at least a lecture."
"You'll get one," the principal said calmly. "Just not the kind you can laugh at."
Oh.
That kind.
"So," he began, folding his hands, "three students sent out of class together. That's either coincidence or courage."
Kabir stayed quiet. Smart.
I cleared my throat. "Sir, we weren't trying to be disrespectful."
"I know," he said immediately.
That surprised me.
He looked at Samar. "You like provoking authority."
Samar smiled. "Only when authority provokes first, sir."
The principal nodded slowly. "Honest."
Then he turned to Kabir. "You speak only when necessary."
Kabir met his gaze. "Yes, sir."
"And you," he said, finally looking at me properly, "don't like unfairness."
I blinked. "Is it that obvious?"
He smiled faintly. "Painfully."
Great. I'd been psychoanalysed before lunch.
"Tell me," Principal Malhotra said, "what exactly upset you?"
No traps.
No interruptions.
So I told him.
About selective praise.
About ignored answers.
About tests where collaboration was allowed only in the front rows.
He listened.
Actually listened.
When I finished, he leaned back. "Do you know why teachers favour certain students?"
Samar muttered, "Ego?"
"Predictability," the principal corrected. "They reward what feels safe."
Kabir spoke quietly. "That doesn't make it fair."
"No," the principal agreed. "But it makes it human."
Silence.
Then he said, "You won't be punished."
Samar brightened. "Sir, I like you."
"You will, however," he continued, "be watched more closely."
Ah. There it was.
"Good," I said. "We're used to attention from the back."
He smiled this time. "Go to class."
The hallway felt different on the way back.
Not victorious.
Just… heavier.
We hadn't won.
We'd been acknowledged.
Neil was waiting outside our classroom.
Leaning against the wall. Hands in pockets. Nervous.
I almost walked past him.
Almost.
"Rhea," he said.
I stopped.
Samar didn't. Kabir did.
Neil swallowed. "I didn't know it would go that far."
"You knew," I said. Calm. "You just thought it wouldn't reach you."
He winced. "That's not fair."
I tilted my head. "Funny. That's been our line all week."
"I didn't betray anyone," he said quickly. "I just… wanted a chance."
Kabir spoke before I could.
"No one stopped you from wanting more."
Neil looked at him. "Then why does it feel like I lost something?"
Because you did, I thought.
Samar crossed his arms. "Front benches treating you well?"
Neil hesitated.
That was answer enough.
"They don't laugh at your jokes," Samar continued. "They laugh after checking if it's allowed."
Neil sighed. "I don't belong there."
I studied him.
Not angry.
Not smug.
Just tired.
"You didn't belong here either," I said gently. "You belonged with us."
His shoulders slumped. "Is it too late?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Kabir looked at me.
Samar looked away.
I finally said, "Coming back isn't the same as staying."
Neil nodded. "I know."
Then, quietly, "I'll earn it."
The bell rang.
We walked in together.
Not fixed.
Not healed.
But not broken either.
As I slid back into my seat, I realised something:
The war wasn't about benches anymore.
It was about choices.
And some of them didn't come with redo buttons.😔🙂