꧁・┆✦ʚ 𝚂𝚑𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚊𝚗'𝚜 ♡ 𝙿𝚘𝚟 ɞ✦ ┆・꧂

I was adjusting my tie in the corridor, feeling the weight of all those eyes on me. A bunch of girls stood nearby, watching and whispering. Seriously? I thought. Why do they always have to swoon over me?

With a sigh, I turned and headed towards the assembly hall. There was an important announcement today about the upcoming cultural events. As I walked past the classrooms, I noticed students quickly making their way towards the ground, eager for whatever the principal had planned to say.

Reaching the assembly hall, I joined the crowd, spotting a few familiar faces among the students. The air buzzed with excitement about the cultural events. Everyone was chattering away, speculating about which activities would be included this year.

As I found my place, I saw Shahneel waving at me from a few rows down. She was standing beside Sara, who looked away the moment she noticed I was looking. I smirked a little, noticing the slight flush on her cheeks. Interesting, I thought. She was different from the girls who usually watched me with that dreamy look. Sara looked away shyly, not realizing I'd caught her.

Just then, the principal stepped onto the stage, calling for silence. The crowd settled down instantly, and he began explaining this year's lineup for the cultural fest—drama, music, dance, sports events, and more. Everyone listened intently, cheering whenever their favorite activities were mentioned.

The principal continued, "And this year, we'll be having our annual talent show, with a twist: the participation will be based on teams chosen from each class, competing against one another. Head Boy, Shubman Gill, will be overseeing the teams and ensuring fair play."

I straightened up a bit, trying to look the part as murmurs filled the crowd. Being Head Boy definitely came with its fair share of duties, and organizing a talent show was going to be a big task. But as my eyes drifted back to Sara, I couldn't help but think it might be fun.

After the assembly, I headed to one of the empty classrooms to get started on the list for the annual event. A few of the class representatives gathered around, waiting for instructions. I leaned back, tapping my pen against the notebook, and began jotting down the names for each activity.

Just then, Shahneel and Sara walked in, Sara trailing a bit nervously behind. She glanced around, her gaze flickering in my direction before she quickly looked away, her cheeks turning a faint pink. I smirked to myself but tried to stay focused on the task.

"Alright, so let's get this done quickly," I said, scanning the list. "Dance and music teams first. Shahneel, you know who's interested?"

Shahneel nodded confidently, listing a few names. But when it was Sara's turn to speak, she stammered, "U-um, I... I think... maybe...uh... the art team might need more—"

Her face flushed deeper, her words tangling up in each other as she tried to finish her sentence.

Shahneel quickly jumped in, flashing me a quick smile. "She means that the art team might need more members for the set designs. We have a few volunteers, but we're still short."

I chuckled, giving Sara an encouraging look. "Got it. No worries, we'll make sure the art team gets enough help," I replied, jotting it down.

Sara's eyes met mine briefly, and she gave a small, shy smile, visibly relieved that Shahneel had saved her. I could tell she was nervous around me, and I had to admit, there was something endearing about the way she fumbled her words.

"Okay, let's move on to the drama team," I said, making a note. "Sara, would you be interested? We're looking for someone with an eye for detail, someone who can help manage props or scenes."

She hesitated, glancing at Shahneel for support, but after a moment, she nodded. "Y-yes, I'd like to help," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Great," I replied, hiding my amusement. "You're in, then." I made a note beside her name, hoping to see more of this quiet girl who somehow kept finding ways to stumble into my thoughts.

That evening, as soon as I stepped into the house, Mumma's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Shubman, dinner will be ready soon. And after that, I want you to sit down with your textbooks. You've got to start taking your studies seriously."

I sighed, already knowing what was coming. The annual event was on my mind, and I had tons to plan, but Mumma wasn't going to let me off the hook. After dinner, I trudged up to my room and plopped down with my physics textbook. Mumma entered shortly after, her hand outstretched.

"Hand over the phone, Shubman. No distractions tonight," she said firmly.

Reluctantly, I handed it over, knowing any resistance would just end up in a lecture. "Mumma, I have the annual event prep to work on too," I muttered, hoping she'd let me off early.

"Studies first. You're the Head Boy; if anyone can manage both, it's you," she replied, leaving no room for argument as she walked out, phone in hand.

I opened the book and began reading, but my mind kept drifting. The equations blurred, and all I could think about was organizing the cricket trials, setting up the teams, and, for some reason, Sara fumbling her words in front of me earlier. Hours ticked by, and when I finally glanced at the clock, only one chapter was halfway done.

Suddenly, Dad, entered the room, his gaze instantly landing on my book.

"One chapter in three hours, Shubman?" he asked, exasperation clear in his voice. "At this pace, how are you going to get anywhere in your exams?"

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to shrug it off. "I just... I'm working on it, Dad."

"Working on it?" he scoffed. "Your sister could finish twice that in half the time, and she's in a lower grade than you. If you spent half as much time on your studies as you do on that cricket team list, maybe you'd have some progress."

The comparison stung, and I clenched my jaw, biting back a retort. "Dad, I'm trying," I said, managing to keep my tone calm.

"Try harder," he replied sharply, his expression softening slightly. "Look, Shubman, I know cricket is important to you. But this is your final year; this is critical. You have to balance both."

He left, and I was alone with the silent textbook, the weight of his words still pressing on me.

I stared at the pages of my textbook, the words blending together as fatigue started creeping in. But Dad's words kept replaying in my head, pushing me to keep going. It felt like I needed to prove something, even if it was just finishing this one chapter. I checked the time—nearly 2 a.m.—but I didn't feel any closer to understanding the material.

Just as I flipped to another page, the door creaked open, and Mumma peeked inside, her face softening when she saw me hunched over my desk.

"Shubman," she whispered, walking over and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "It's late, beta. You need to get some sleep."

I shook my head, still staring at the book. "Just... a little longer, Mumma. I have to finish this."

She sat down beside me, brushing her fingers through my hair like she used to when I was a kid. "Pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion won't help you learn. You'll only be too tired to understand anything by morning."

I sighed, closing the book, feeling a mix of frustration and relief. "It's just... Dad thinks I'm not taking things seriously. I don't want to disappoint him. Or you."

Her expression softened, and she cupped my face. "Shubman, we don't expect you to be perfect. We just want you to try your best. And it's okay if your best is different from someone else's."

I nodded, a small part of the weight lifting from my shoulders. Mumma smiled gently and handed me a glass of warm milk she'd brought. "Now, drink this and go to bed. You can continue tomorrow after school."

I took a sip, feeling the warmth settle my nerves. Mumma stayed with me a little longer, chatting about lighter things, and for the first time that night, I felt a little more at ease. Finally, I put the book away and let myself fall into bed, Mumma's quiet reassurances still echoing softly in my mind as I drifted to sleep.

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