Chapter 3
The Boy Who Knows Too Much
By the next morning, the whispers had already spread.
Bela didn't know how—but somehow, everyone in the class now knew her as the girl who sat beside him.
---
As she walked into the classroom, conversations didn't stop.
They just… lowered.
Eyes followed her again.
Not curious this time.
Measuring.
Judging.
Waiting.
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She ignored it.
Or at least, she tried to.
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Her steps slowed slightly as she approached her seat.
The last bench.
The one no one chose.
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He was already there.
Vihaan.
Same position. Same silence. Same unreadable expression.
As if nothing had changed since yesterday.
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For a brief second, Bela wondered—
Did yesterday even matter to him?
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She sat down quietly.
Careful. Controlled.
Not too close.
Not too far.
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No reaction.
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"Good morning," she said.
Soft.
Almost testing.
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Nothing.
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Bela looked ahead, letting out a small breath.
"Okay," she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to him. "We're ignoring each other today."
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A pause.
Then—
"…I'm not."
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Her head turned instantly.
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Vihaan hadn't moved.
His eyes were still on the front.
But he had spoken.
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Bela blinked.
"You just did."
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"Didn't say I wouldn't talk," he replied calmly. "Just said I'm not ignoring you."
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That… almost sounded like logic.
Strange logic.
But still.
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Bela felt something shift inside her.
A small, unexpected amusement.
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Before she could respond, the teacher entered.
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"Settle down, everyone."
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Books opened. Conversations died.
The usual rhythm of the classroom resumed.
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"Today," the teacher continued, writing a complex equation across the board, "we'll solve something a bit more challenging."
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Bela leaned forward slightly, focusing.
She liked studying.
It was one of the few things she could control.
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"Who can solve this?"
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Silence.
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A few students avoided eye contact.
Some pretended to write.
Others simply stared at the board like it was written in another language.
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The teacher sighed. "No one?"
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Bela hesitated.
She understood parts of it… but not enough to confidently solve it.
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Then—
A voice.
Calm. Unbothered.
From beside her.
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"Left side's wrong."
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The class froze.
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The teacher turned slowly. "Excuse me?"
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Vihaan didn't look at her.
"Third step," he said. "You substituted incorrectly."
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A pause.
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The teacher walked closer, checking the board.
Silence stretched across the room.
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Then—
She erased part of the equation.
Corrected it.
Paused.
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"…Alright," she admitted slowly. "Then you solve it."
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A few students exchanged looks.
Some whispered.
Most just watched.
---
Vihaan stood up.
No hesitation.
No drama.
---
He walked to the board, picked up the chalk, and started writing.
Fast.
Precise.
Like he wasn't solving it—
Like he already knew the answer.
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Bela watched carefully.
Step by step.
Line by line.
Everything made sense.
Clear. Clean. Perfect.
---
Within minutes—
He stepped back.
Done.
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The classroom was silent.
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"…Correct," the teacher said.
But her voice carried something else now.
Something between surprise and realization.
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"Why don't you participate more often?" she asked.
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Vihaan placed the chalk down.
"Didn't feel like it."
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A few students laughed nervously.
The teacher didn't.
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"Sit down."
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He returned to his seat.
Just like that.
As if nothing had happened.
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But everything had.
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Bela turned toward him slightly.
"That was… impressive."
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No response.
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"You could've said that yesterday," she added.
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"…You didn't ask," he replied.
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She paused.
Then smiled.
Just a little.
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"Okay," she said softly. "I'll ask more things from now on."
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For a second—
It almost looked like he was about to say something.
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But—
"Don't."
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The word was quiet.
But firm.
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Bela frowned slightly.
"Why?"
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He didn't answer.
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The bell rang again.
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Break time.
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Students immediately gathered into groups.
But this time—
The energy felt different.
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Now they weren't just whispering about Bela.
They were watching him.
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"Did you see that?"
"I didn't even understand the question…"
"He solved it like it was nothing…"
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Bela leaned back slightly, letting the noise fade.
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"So," she said, glancing sideways, "you're secretly a genius."
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"Not a secret," Vihaan replied.
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She raised an eyebrow.
"Confident."
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"Accurate."
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Bela almost laughed.
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Before she could reply—
A sharp voice cut in.
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"Vihaan."
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Ritika.
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She stood beside their desk again, expression controlled but eyes sharp.
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"You didn't tell me you were going to solve it," she said.
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"I didn't tell anyone," he replied.
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Her gaze flickered briefly toward Bela.
Then back to him.
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"You could've at least helped me with it."
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"I didn't."
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Short. Direct.
Unapologetic.
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Ritika's jaw tightened slightly.
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"Right," she said.
Then, turning to Bela—
"You seem comfortable here."
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Bela met her gaze.
"I am."
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A pause.
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Ritika smiled.
But it didn't reach her eyes.
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"Let's see how long that lasts."
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She walked away.
Again.
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Bela exhaled softly.
"…She doesn't like me."
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"No," Vihaan said.
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"Why?"
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He finally looked at her.
Directly.
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"Because you're sitting here."
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Simple.
Clear.
True.
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Bela leaned back slightly, processing that.
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"Then why am I still here?" she asked.
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For a moment—
There was no answer.
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Then—
"You didn't leave."
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Something about the way he said it—
Not surprised.
Not impressed.
Just… stated.
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Bela looked at him.
Really looked this time.
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Not just the cold expression.
Not just the silence.
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But the space around him.
The way no one came close.
The way no one stayed.
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And for the first time—
She understood something.
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He wasn't pushing people away.
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People were leaving on their own.
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"…I won't," she said quietly.
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He didn't respond.
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But this time—
He didn't look away either.