Chapter 1
It was a bright, sunlit day, though a few clouds drifted across the sky, making it seem as if the sun was playing hide-and-seek with the earth and nature. It was recess time.
It was an ordinary day. Vriti was excitedly talking about the beautiful sights she’d seen during her recent trip to Nainital.
Vriti: “…You know, the views there were so amazing that I was literally screaming inside. And then a notification popped up on my phone… that—”
Vriti cut herself off, “Akriti! Akriti! Akriti! Are you even listening to me…”
Akriti could have listened, but she was too lost in thinking about how to teach that useless senior, Vayu, a lesson.
Akriti had always thought of Vayu as just an eighteen-year-old boy in his final year of high school. Six feet tall, fit, and lean. The captain of the basketball team. He had deep honey-brown eyes and a dusky complexion. Young and old alike liked him, and he was clearly the campus hero, with girls hovering around him like bees.
But that perception changed after _that_ incident.
Well, that day was going to be unforgettable for Akriti—whether you call it the worst day, or the best day of her life.
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_Some days earlier_
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It was a bright, sunlit day—perfect for a picnic with family. The sky was clear, laughter echoed in the air, and everything felt peaceful.
But just as the day reached its brightest moment, a strong wind swept through the field, kicking up sand. The sunlight dimmed, and a strange unease hung in the air, as if the day was about to change forever.
And it did.
Akriti was in her class as usual, talking with classmates. The room was noisy as always—students chatting, some finishing homework. She laughed at her friend’s joke and joined the conversation around her.
The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, but suddenly the buzz in the hallway grew so loud that Akriti knew today was going to be different. A day she’d never forget.
The classroom door opened.
Silence fell.
Not complete silence—just enough for the chatter to stop, heads to turn, and Akriti’s stomach to twist before she even looked up.
She already knew who it was. She kept her eyes fixed on the open notebook on her desk. If she ignored him and acted like she wasn’t there, maybe he’d leave.
But today was different. A shadow fell across the page.
“You haven’t done it yet.” His voice was calm. Too calm.
She stared at the page. Slowly, she lifted her head.
Vayu stood by her desk, hands casually in his pockets, as if he’d just walked in and half the class wasn’t pretending not to watch.
Akriti clenched her jaw. “I don’t feel like it.”
A ripple went through the room. Someone laughed. Someone muttered something she couldn’t catch.
Vayu ignored it all. His eyes stayed on her.
“Don’t feel like it?”
There was no anger, no disappointment, no surprise in his tone—just a question.
For some reason, that stung more than a shout would have.
“Yeah.” The answer came out sharper than she intended. “I don’t feel like it.”
A faint smile curved his lips. Not a pleasant one.
The kind of smile that made her want to throw a book at him.
“Got it.”
_No, you don’t get it!_ she thought.
“If I refuse?” she asked.
The room grew quieter. The students sitting near them openly started listening. What was the point of hiding now? Everyone loved drama. And Vayu had a habit of creating it.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “If you refuse…” his voice stayed low.
“…then I’ll assume you like breaking promises.”
Akriti almost laughed—it was absurd. “A promise? This was a stupid challenge from the start…”
Yet somehow he’d turned it into a matter of principle.
“You’re making this too serious,” she said.
“This _is_ serious.” His brow arched. “It’s a dare.”
She snapped back, “You made me accept it.”
The reply came immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her to say that.
Akriti looked away. Winning an argument with him was impossible. Talking to him felt like sinking into sand—the more you struggled, the deeper you went.
“You know what?” she muttered. “I think you’re just bored.”
A few students nearby held their breath. Others glanced at each other.
Usually, no one spoke to Vayu like that.
But instead of getting angry, he tilted his head. “Bored?”
“Yeah.” Akriti sat up straighter. “If you weren’t bored, you wouldn’t be wasting your time on something this pointless.”
For a moment, both were silent. The room held its breath.
Then—Vayu laughed.
It was quiet. Unexpected, and somehow more unsettling than his silence.
Several students stared. Clearly, they were as surprised as she was.
“Interesting theory,” he said.
“It’s true,” she replied.
“Is it really?”
“Yes.”
His smile widened a fraction.
“No,” she said. That one word, said with such confidence, made Akriti want to scream.
“No?”
“No. I don’t waste my time.”
There was something in the way he said it that made her pause.
Not because she believed him, but because he believed himself.
As if everything he did had a purpose. A reason. A destination.
It irritated her. People like Vayu always had a reason. Everyone else just dealt with the consequences.
“Then why?” she asked before she could stop herself.
His gaze sharpened. For the first time, something flickered behind his eyes. And was gone just as fast.
“Because you said you would.”
_Lie._
“What’s your problem?” she asked quietly. The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Vayu stared at her. For a moment, the teasing vanished completely. His face became unreadable.
Cold. Not angry. Not cruel. Just distant.
As if he was looking at someone else who wasn’t even standing in front of him.
Then the bell rang.
The sharp sound shattered the moment. Students groaned. Chairs scraped against the floor. Conversations started up again instantly. The spell was broken.
Vayu stepped back from the desk. He took a step toward the aisle.
Akriti exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Finally, he was leaving.
But after a few steps, he stopped.
The classroom noise faded into the background.
Slowly, he turned his head. His eyes met hers.
“You have until tomorrow.”
Akriti’s heart sank. She was tired of this. Tired of him making decisions for her. Tired of his trust, his games.
“And if I don’t?” she challenged.
It was a dangerous question. She knew it the moment it left her mouth.
Several students froze, waiting, watching.
Vayu looked at her calmly. Then he smiled.
A slow smile. Patient. Certain.
The kind of smile that made her regret asking.
“Then I’ll think of something worse.”
The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be.
Akriti felt them settle heavily on her chest, because she knew exactly what that meant.
Without another word, Vayu walked out. His footsteps were lost in the growing noise of the class.
Yet somehow, his presence lingered.
Like a storm cloud that refused to move on.
Akriti stared at the door long after he was gone.
That incident had completely changed her perception of him.
Was he really like that?
And what was the reason behind it?
