Chapter 9 – Jealousy Sparks
A senior flirts with Meera.
The campus felt louder that morning.
Not because of announcements.
Not because of events.
But because something inside Aarav felt… restless.
He didn't know why.
He just knew that when he walked into class and didn't immediately see Meera in her usual seat by the window, his jaw tightened slightly.
She arrived two minutes later.
Laughing.
Not the small polite laugh she gave classmates.
A real one.
Bright.
Unfiltered.
And she wasn't alone.
Walking beside her was Rohan Malhotra — the third-year senior every first-year girl seemed to know about.
Tall. Confident. Too aware of the effect he had on people.
He held her notebook casually, leaning slightly toward her as he said something that made her laugh again.
Aarav's chest felt unexpectedly tight.
He told himself it was nothing.
Just conversation.
Just a senior helping a junior.
Still…
Why was he standing so close?
Meera stepped into class, finally noticing Aarav. Her smile softened when their eyes met.
But it didn't erase what he had already seen.
"Morning," she whispered as she slid into her seat beside him.
He didn't look at her immediately.
"Morning."
It came out flat.
She frowned slightly.
"Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
The tone made her blink.
"I was just asking."
He shrugged lightly. "You seemed busy."
She followed his gaze instinctively toward the corridor where Rohan had just passed by the door.
"Oh," she said.
That single syllable held understanding.
"He's the senior coordinating the cultural fest," she explained. "He stopped me about volunteering."
Aarav nodded once.
"That's nice."
Not curious.
Not interested.
Just… distant.
Her brows pulled together.
"Why do you sound like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I did something wrong."
"You didn't."
"Then?"
He finally looked at her.
And there it was.
Something sharp in his eyes.
"Nothing."
The word felt heavier than it should have.
Throughout the lecture, Aarav barely spoke.
He didn't pass notes.
Didn't make sarcastic comments.
Didn't even nudge her when the professor mispronounced something.
Meera tried twice to whisper something casual.
Both times, he gave short replies.
Something was wrong.
And she hated that she couldn't reach it.
After class, she grabbed his wrist gently before he could leave.
"Aarav."
He stopped but didn't turn fully.
"Yes?"
"What's going on?"
He sighed.
"Nothing, Meera."
She stepped closer.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Shut me out when something's bothering you."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"You're overthinking."
She studied him carefully.
"I've been talking to you long enough to know when you're pretending."
That hit him.
He exhaled slowly.
"You seemed… comfortable," he said finally.
"With who?"
"You know who."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Rohan?"
He didn't respond.
That was answer enough.
A tiny smile curved at the corner of her lips.
"Are you jealous?"
His head snapped toward her.
"No."
Too quick.
Too defensive.
She crossed her arms lightly.
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You are."
He looked away.
"I just don't like him."
"You don't even know him."
"I don't need to."
She blinked.
"Wow."
Silence stretched between them.
Then he said quietly, "He was standing too close."
She almost laughed.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Aarav, he was showing me something on his phone."
"You could have stepped back."
The statement surprised her.
"You're telling me how far I should stand from someone?"
"That's not what I—"
"You don't get to decide that."
He froze.
She wasn't angry.
But her tone was firm.
"I'm not trying to control you," he said quickly.
"It feels like that."
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"I just didn't like the way he was looking at you."
She softened slightly.
"And how was he looking at me?"
"Like…" He stopped himself.
"Like what?"
He met her eyes.
"Like I do."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Silence.
Thick.
Unavoidable.
Her heartbeat stuttered.
"What does that mean?" she asked quietly.
He looked away again.
"Forget it."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"Don't say something like that and then tell me to forget it."
He inhaled deeply.
"It means I don't like other people noticing you."
Her voice dropped.
"Noticing me how?"
"The way I do."
Her breath caught.
"Aarav…"
"I know it's stupid," he muttered. "We're not—"
"Not what?"
He didn't finish.
She waited.
He didn't speak.
And that silence said more than anything.
Later that afternoon, Meera was near the courtyard when Rohan approached again.
"Hey, Meera," he smiled easily. "You thought about volunteering?"
"I'm still considering," she replied politely.
"You'd be perfect for stage coordination."
"Why?"
"Because you're calm. And people listen when you talk."
She felt slightly flattered.
"Thanks."
"Coffee sometime?" he added casually.
Before she could answer—
A voice cut in.
"She's busy."
Both turned.
Aarav stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
Rohan raised a brow.
"Oh? And you are?"
"A classmate."
Meera's heart raced.
Rohan looked amused.
"I was asking her."
"And she'll answer," Aarav replied calmly.
The air between them shifted.
Not aggressive.
But tense.
Meera stepped in quickly.
"Rohan, I'll let you know about volunteering, okay?"
He looked between them, a slow smirk forming.
"Sure."
He handed her back her notebook.
"Think about the coffee too."
Then he walked away.
Silence.
Heavy.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, turning to Aarav.
"Do what?"
"Answer for me."
"I didn't answer. I reminded him you can."
"That's not the same."
He looked frustrated now.
"You didn't look uncomfortable."
"I wasn't."
"That's the problem."
Her eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
"You didn't seem bothered."
"Why should I be?"
He stared at her.
"Because he was flirting."
"So?"
The word hit him harder than she intended.
"So?" he repeated.
"Yes. So what?"
He stepped closer.
"So it bothers me."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like it."
"That's not an explanation."
He hesitated.
Then, finally—
"Because I like you."
The world seemed to go silent.
The courtyard noise faded.
The wind stilled.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
"You… what?"
"I like you," he repeated, quieter now.
No sarcasm.
No shield.
Just truth.
"And seeing someone else look at you like that—" He swallowed. "It makes me feel like I'm already too late."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"You're not too late."
The words came out instinctively.
He searched her face.
"I don't want to compete with anyone."
"You're not competing."
"Then what am I doing?"
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"You're being honest."
He studied her carefully.
"And you?"
She hesitated.
Just a second.
Then—
"I don't like when other girls look at you either."
His breath caught.
"That's different."
"No, it's not."
Silence again.
But this one felt electric.
Charged.
"You could have just told me," she whispered. "Instead of acting cold."
"I didn't know how."
"Then learn."
He let out a soft breath.
"You're not making this easy."
"I'm not supposed to."
A faint smile tugged at his lips despite himself.
"I hate that senior."
She laughed softly.
"You don't even know him."
"I know enough."
She shook her head, amused.
"Possessive looks weird on you."
"Jealous," he corrected quietly.
Her eyes softened.
"You don't have to be."
"I don't know how not to be."
She stepped even closer now.
Close enough that the space between them felt intentional.
"I wasn't going to say yes to coffee," she said softly.
He blinked.
"You weren't?"
"No."
"Why?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Because I already like someone who calls me at midnight."
His heartbeat stumbled.
"You do?"
She nodded.
Silence.
This time, it wasn't tense.
It was fragile.
Beautiful.
"And he gets jealous too easily," she added lightly.
"I'm working on it."
"You better."
A faint smile spread across his face.
The real one.
The one she had waited for.
"Next time," she said gently, "talk to me. Don't shut me out."
"I will."
"And don't answer for me."
He nodded.
"Okay."
"And stop looking like someone stole your favorite book."
He huffed softly.
"I wasn't that obvious."
"You were."
She smiled.
"And for the record…"
He leaned slightly closer.
"Yes?"
"I like the way you look at me."
His breath caught.
"Don't test me."
She laughed, stepping back playfully.
"Relax."
But inside—
Neither of them felt relaxed.
Because something had shifted.
Jealousy had forced the truth out.
Not dramatic.
Not rehearsed.
Just raw.
And now—
There was no pretending they were "just classmates."
No pretending it was just a project.
No pretending it was just coffee.
It wasn't.
It was something fragile.
Something growing.
Something neither of them fully understood yet.
And for the first time—
They both knew it.