Preksha pov :
The last bell. It was the siren song of freedom, the sweet promise of escape from the confines of textbooks and lectures. But today, it felt like an eternity away. We were wilting, all of us, slumped in our chairs, counting down the minutes to the final period. History. A double period, no less. Our collective groan must have been audible to the entire school when Mr. Hamir, our history teacher, swept in. His usual stern demeanor softened ever so slightly, a tiny curve at the corner of his lips that signaled something unusual.
"Alright, class," he began, his voice a little less booming than usual. "It seems the school has decided to grace you with a free period for the remainder of the day."
A collective gasp, then an explosion of whispered excitement. A free lecture! It was like hitting the jackpot on a Tuesday afternoon. Energy, which had been at an all-time low, suddenly surged through the room.
My best friends, Anvika and Reeva, immediately turned to me, eyes sparkling with mischief. "ATLAS?" Anvika mouthed, her grin wide. ATLAS was our secret game, a geographical odyssey played out in our minds, testing our knowledge of cities and countries, a nonsensical journey from one corner of the globe to another. It was our favorite way to escape the mundane.
"Definitely ATLAS," I whispered back, a smile spreading across my face. Reeva nodded enthusiastically.
"Okay, I'll start," Reeva declared, leaning forward. "America!"
"Ahmedabad!" Anvika shot back instantly.
"Delhi!" I chimed in, enjoying the rapid-fire exchange.
"Ireland!" Reeva countered, a triumphant glint in her eye.
We were deep into our imaginary world tour when I caught sight of Dishita, hunched over her desk, a serious expression etched on her face. Dishita always seemed to be in a perpetual state of academic pursuit. She was brilliant, no doubt, but sometimes I wished she'd let loose a little.
"Hey Dishita," I ventured, leaning over. "Why don't you join us for a bit? It's a free period!"
She looked up, her brow still furrowed. " No, I really need to go over these notes for the upcoming history test. Speaking of which," she paused, her eyes landing on my open bag, "do you mind if I borrow your Social science notes for a bit? We have the same reference book, and yours are always so neatly organized."
A small pang of disappointment flickered through me. I really wanted her to join us, but I understood her dedication. "Sure, Dishita," I said, pulling out my well-thumbed notebook. "Here you go. Just make sure you return it."
"Of course! Thanks so much," she replied, taking it with a grateful smile and immediately burying her head back in her work.
We continued our ATLAS game, the sounds of chatter and laughter filling the classroom. The minutes ticked by, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Finally, the shrill, glorious sound of the last bell pierced the air. It was like a collective release. Chairs scraped back, bags were slung over shoulders, and a chaotic surge toward the door began.
Anvika, Reeva, and I navigated through the crowd, already planning our evening. We reached the threshold of the classroom, about to step out into the bustling hallway, when a voice, clear and loud, sliced through the din.
"PREKSHA!"
It was my name. Not a casual call, not a gentle whisper, but a resonant cry that seemed to echo in the now-emptying classroom. It was so loud, so unexpected, that it froze me in my tracks. My heart gave a strange, frantic flutter. Who was it? And why did it sound so… urgent?
Anvika and Reeva had already taken a few steps out, but they too stopped, turning back with curious, almost knowing, expressions.
"What was that?" Anvika mouthed, her eyebrows raised.
My mind raced. Was it a teacher? Had I forgotten something? A book? A crucial announcement? I didn't know what to do. Every instinct told me to keep walking, to ignore the strange pull, but the sheer force of the call seemed to drag me back. Against my better judgment, against the curious stares of my friends, I turned and rushed back into the classroom.
The room was almost empty now, a few stragglers gathering their things. My eyes scanned frantically, searching for the source of the voice. And then I saw him.
Harshit.
He was standing near the blackboard, a place he rarely frequented. In one hand, he held my SST notebook, its familiar cover a startling sight. With his other hand, he was meticulously, almost gently, dusting the blackboard. It was an odd, almost theatrical gesture. He wasn't looking at me, not directly. He was focused on the blackboard, as if the dust motes were the most fascinating things in the world.
A strange current ran through the air, a tension that was almost palpable. The room, which had moments ago been loud with the sounds of departure, was suddenly hushed, the only sounds the rustle of clothes and the faint murmur from the hallway.
He finally turned, slowly, and his eyes, usually mischievous and full of laughter, were now earnest, almost vulnerable. "Dishita gave me your notebook," he said, his voice softer now, "to return it to you."
My mind felt like a tangled mess of wires. Dishita? She had just borrowed it. Why would she give it to Harshit to return? And why… why had he called my name like that? So loud, so insistent?
"Oh," I managed, my voice barely a whisper. "Thank you."
I walked towards him, feeling an almost magnetic pull, a strange sense of unreality. He held out the notebook. As our fingers brushed, a spark, almost imperceptible but undeniably there, seemed to jump between us. My heart fluttered again, faster this time. I quickly grabbed the book, pulling my hand away as if burned.
"Thanks," I repeated, a little too quickly, and then, without another word, I turned and practically fled the classroom.
When I burst out into the hallway, Anvika and Reeva were waiting, their faces alight with a mixture of amusement and… something else. Something knowing. They weren't smiling in their usual teasing way; it was a deeper, more significant kind of smile.
"So," Anvika began, her voice dripping with mock innocence, "what was all that about?"
My cheeks flushed. I was a whirlwind of confusion. "What do you mean?" I stammered, trying to appear nonchalant. "He just returned my notebook. Dishita gave it to him."
Reeva let out a small, knowing chuckle. "Oh, is that all it was?" she said, nudging Anvika.
Anvika stepped closer, her eyes narrowed playfully. "Don't you know what you did?"
"What did I do?" I pressed, my frustration growing. My mind was reeling, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in atmosphere, their charged expressions, Harshit's strange behavior, and my own inexplicable reaction.
Reeva leaned in conspiratorially. "Something is definitely going on between them, Anvika."
"Between whom?" I demanded, feeling a sudden surge of heat in my face. "What are you thinking? What's going on?"
Anvika scoffed, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, don't try to be innocent, Preksha."
My jaw tightened. "I'm not trying to be anything! I genuinely don't understand what you two are talking about."
Then, Reeva dropped the bombshell. Her words were slow, deliberate, each one landing like a stone in a still pond. "It was like… like Harshit is so in love with you, and you were living in blissful ignorance, completely behind, ignoring it all." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "So he called your name, so loud, so clear, to express his feelings. And you," she pointed a finger at me, "you fell for it, because you ran back to him, didn't you?"
My mind reeled. Love? Harshit? Me? It was too much. The words swirled, forming a dizzying vortex of disbelief. "What?" I finally managed, the word a weak gasp. "You and your imagination! That's utterly ridiculous!"
I tried to laugh, to dismiss it, to wave it away as just another one of their wild theories. But the laugh caught in my throat. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat that refused to quiet. The image of Harshit standing by the blackboard, the way he had looked at me, the strange spark when our fingers touched… it all flooded back with disarming clarity.
We started walking, the usual easy rhythm of our departure now punctuated by a strange tension. Anvika and Reeva continued to exchange knowing glances, their silent communication speaking volumes.
And then, deep down, a whisper began. A tiny, insidious thought that I desperately tried to silence.
Was it really like that?
The question echoed in the quiet chambers of my mind. Was there something there? Something I hadn't seen, hadn't acknowledged? Was there something in his mind for me? Something between us that I, in my comfortable bubble of friendship and studies, had completely missed?
The idea was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Oh God, what is happening to me? And why?
The world suddenly felt a little bit off-kilter, the familiar contours of my routine shifting. The free period, the ATLAS game, Dishita, the bell – they were all just backdrops to that one moment, that one loud, resonant call of my name. It was an echo that refused to fade, a question that demanded an answer. And as I walked home, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, I knew one thing for sure: my simple, predictable world had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. The echo of Harshit's voice, and the questions it stirred, were just the beginning.