'You haven't got a name in here?' Romil asks, perusing the list I have handed him.

'Neither have you,' I remarked.

'Things must be already decided for you,' Romil says, turning full-profile to me. 'What are you becoming? CMD? CFO? Or... a model? An actress?'

I shake my head, a nervous chuckle slipping out before I can stop it. 'Nope.'

'Let me guess,' he continues, relentless, 'with your grades, they're sending you abroad. What is it? Oxford? Harvard? Princeton? Stanford? No?'

I shake my head, my heart hammering in my chest, because, in this moment, Romil thinks he knows exactly who I am. He thinks I'm one of those people with doors wide open, walking effortlessly toward a future already planned.

And there's this part of me that wants to break his illusion. To tell him that not everyone can afford to dream beyond the horizon when you're just trying to survive the present. But there's another, louder part of me—the part that's learned to stay quiet, to keep things safe—that holds back. I'm not ready to be that vulnerable. Not yet.

'I'm staying here,' I admit, my eyes flicking toward the door of the staffroom, hoping to spot Kalpana ma'am before this conversation gets any deeper. 'At Jaipur.'

'You are?' There is an unmistakable glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. 'So, you are really serious about Mai by Maithili?'

I swallow, my mind racing, trying to decide how much I want to reveal. "It's not what you think," I finally say.

Romil leans back, his arms draping across the back of his chair, eyes still on me. 'What do you mean? It was your work, right? Was it a hoax? Did you do it for the prize money?'

I'm shaking my head before he even finishes, the questions piling up faster than I can answer them. 'No, I didn't even know! It's—nothing like that.'

'Then what?' he presses, his voice softer now, but still too curious for my liking. 'You gave me a real pause there. I was actually impressed by Mai.'

'You were?' The words come out more eager than I intend.

'Oh, yeah,' he says, flashing a smile that makes my chest feel lighter for half a second. 'Everyone was. So, if it's not what I think, then what is it?'

I want to groan at the sheer number of questions, but before I have to find the words to answer, the door creaks open, and Kalpana ma'am walks in, followed by another teacher.

Saved by the bell. Literally.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I'm halfway down the corridor, telling myself I'll just blend back into the classroom crowd, but the second I glance over my shoulder, Romil is right there, falling into step behind me like it's no big deal. But internally? I'm dying. My brain is still stuck in the moment back in the staffroom, replaying every second in slow motion—the way I greeted the teachers with that overly cheerful, high-pitched "Good morning!", and without them even asking, how I blurted out, "Romil's got the list," like anyone cared. And then, of course, how I fumbled with my notebook, barely keeping it together as I shuffled out of the room, hoping to make the world's quickest exit.

Only for him to catch up with me. In the same corridor. Not even ten seconds later.

'I just remembered I don't have your number yet,' Romil says casually, stopping me just outside the classroom.

'Why do you need it?' I ask, raising an eyebrow, trying not to sound too suspicious, even though I kind of am.

'To plan...' he trails off, like he's waiting for me to fill in the blank. But I just look at him, waiting for him to actually explain. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning a little sheepishly. 'If we want to hang out... post-school, I mean.'

'I don't really get any time post-school, Romil.' I say, trying to sound apologetic, even though it's the truth. Between classes, family, and this looming sense of life decisions, my schedule is booked solid. And then there's the fact that I don't have a phone—something I intentionally leave unsaid, because that would open up a whole conversation I'm not ready to have.

Before he can reply, Mr. Gautam, walks past, offering us a smile as he steps into the classroom. Romil waits until the door clicks shut, then turns back to me, his expression serious. 'We're talking about that,' he says, like it's already a decision made.

*****

Sakshi and Gargi are both on leave, off on some trip to Melbourne and Sydney for a concert. They'd asked if I wanted to join, though it was more out of obligation than anything else—they already knew my answer. And, of course, I said no. Too busy. Too preoccupied. Too... everything. "It's boards this year," I told them, like that was the real reason. But it wasn't boards last year, and I still said no.

The truth was more complicated than I let on. Sure, studies were part of it, and Papa needing me at home. But the real reason? Money. Studying at RSVP had been a stretch enough. There's no hope for anything beyond that—no big plans, no trips, no room for concerts across oceans.

I grab my head in my hands, tired of how my entire existence seems to revolve around nothing but money. How even my dreams have a price tag I can't afford.

My hands quiver, fingers trembling like they've forgotten how to be still. My legs feel shaky too, and I'm sure if anyone looked closely enough, they'd see it. I try to focus on what Mr. Gautam is saying, but it's like my brain is caving in on itself, collapsing under some invisible weight. The walls around me seem to creep closer, tighter. I drag the back of my hand across my forehead, wiping away the sweat that keeps building.

I curl my fingers into a fist, then stretch them out again, trying to ground myself, trying to breathe through this growing wave of panic. In. Out. In. Out. But nothing's helping. I reach for my water bottle, the plastic cool against my palm, but even that's not enough to stop the buzzing in my head. By now, Gautam sir's eyes are on me, his voice muffled like I'm listening from the bottom of a pool.

I can't hear him. I'm underwater, drowning in something I can't name.

I push myself to my feet, mumbling an excuse between shallow breaths and half-formed words. I catch the concerned look in his eyes as I stumble my way out of the classroom, trying to escape before I break completely.

I'm lying on the cot in the infirmary. The Prozac is kicking in, my thoughts dimming, and my heart steadying as I close my eyes, hoping for just a few minutes of quiet. But of course, peace is a luxury. There is someone arguing at the door with the head nurse, Vishal, a green-eyed, fairly young-looking man in his mid-twenties.

'—doing here?'

'—we both can visit. Vishal sir, we need to be in.'

I can't see them through the curtain, but I know exactly who it is.

'There is no way I am letting you guys in, making a ruckus in my infirmary. There are two students resting. Keep it down.' Vishal warns, his calm voice edged with frustration.

'I'm not budging from here unless—'

'—we are not budging from here unless we see her.'

There's a beat of silence, and then Vishal sighs. 'One at a time. She's resting.'

I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. I see a tall shape of a boy with a short quiff pulling back the curtains and sitting on the stool beside me. Arjun's brown eyes are brimming with concern. His tan skin flushed from around the ears where a small, golden piercing shines. His face softens when he sees me.

'I'm okay, Arjun. You shouldn't have left the classes.' I murmur, my lips dry and cracked.

'It's nothing.' he says, brushing it off. 'Was it panic attack... or something?' he asks tentatively, leaning forward.

'Yeah. I get it sometimes.' I lick my lips, my voice croaky. I try to give him a smile, but it feels more like a grimace. 'I'm fine, really.'

He nods, sympathetically.

'You're not—' Arjun starts.

'—no, I'm fine, really,' I say, smiling reassuringly. The Prozac is already dulling the edges of my nerves, making the world around me feel softer, hazier. I blink slowly, offering a chapped-lip smile—weak, but enough, and when he gets up, I nod at him encouragingly to edge him out of the bed and room. My head spins slightly as I sink deeper into the bed, the dizzying pull of the pill wrapping around me like a fog.

I just want to sleep. I need to sleep.

But I know I won't. Not yet.

There's still one more person I have to deal with, and as the curtain shifts again, I know he's not going to leave as easily.

I turn my head, an easy smile tugged at my lips. Romil is here.

******************************************

A/N

Thanks for reading
I hope you liked this chapter. Please vote and share it with your friends to motivate me.

PS: the anxiety scene was a bit more on the personal side. I don't know how I did but it's how I've come to know it.

XOXO
Shailey