Desperate to meet

The bright yellow school bus came to a halt at one of the most familiar bus stops in the area.

The first one to climb aboard was Navika Jain—bright, brilliant, and quite famous among the students.

Her school uniform was almost annoyingly perfect. Her shirt was neatly pressed and properly tucked in, her tie sat just right, and her ID card was fixed exactly where it was supposed to be. Her clear skin and naturally highlighted hair, tied into two neat ponytails, only added to her effortlessly put-together appearance.

Almost perfect.

Except for one stubborn thing.

Her school belt.

No matter how many times she fixed it, the belt kept slipping upward from the belt loops of her pants.

Navika gave it one last annoyed tug before stepping inside.

Right behind her came her sister, Pakhi Jain.

Pakhi was mostly known as Navika's sister, though she had made her own name in sports and various extracurricular activities. Studies, however, were definitely not her strongest department.

Among their classmates, she had earned the affectionate nickname “Chalta-Phirta Skeleton” because of her ridiculously thin frame. She was also slightly taller than Navika.

Unlike Navika's perfectly arranged uniform, Pakhi's shirt was held together with a few strategically placed safety pins, while her ponytails looked slightly crooked—but somehow, they still suited her.

And then came their cousin brother.

The moment he stepped onto the bus, a few students immediately turned around.

Everyone knew him.

Not because he was particularly famous for his studies or achievements, but because he was always up to something.

He had a remarkable talent for finding an excuse to leave school early, usually involving his “health.”

He was slightly darker-skinned than the two sisters, and whenever someone teased him about it, he had only one legendary response:

“Kaale hain toh kya hua, dil wale hain.”

And, as if that wasn't enough, he actually had a girlfriend named Angel.

Nobody knew whether that was her real name or just what he had saved her as.

Navika's eyes immediately found Janvi, who was sitting in their reserved seat—the one just ahead of the last row.

Janvi caught her gaze.

Navika nodded, silently telling her she was coming.

Janvi's face immediately lit up with a smile.

Navika walked over, tossed her bag onto the seat, and dropped down beside her.

“Aur batao, behen… kya haal-chaal?”

“Bas badiya. Tu bata?” Janvi asked.

“Main toh hamesha mast rehta hoon,” Navika replied confidently.

Janvi rolled her eyes.

Her gaze then shifted toward the boy sitting nearby.

Virendra Meena.

One of the naughtiest boys in their class.

Originally from Rajasthan, Virendra had moved here because of his father's transfer. He had a particular hobby of roasting Navika in front of the entire class.

The funny part?

He was considerably less brave when they were alone.

And somehow, even less brave inside the school bus.

Janvi exchanged a quick look with him before turning back toward Navika.

She hesitated.

Navika noticed.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she quietly observed the way Janvi and Virendra were communicating without saying a word.

Finally, Janvi broke the silence.

“Oye, Navika…”

Navika looked at her.

“Virru tujhse kuch poochna chahta hai.”

Virendra immediately sat up straighter.

“Haan… pooch bhai,” Navika said, already suspicious.

Virendra leaned slightly closer.

“Oye, tujhe Harsh kaisa lagta hai?”

Navika blinked.

“Matlab?”

Virendra lowered his voice dramatically.

“Tu samajh na… kaisa lagta hai?”

Navika let out a long, tired sigh.

“Bhai, mujhe Harsh kya, apni class ka koi bhi ladka personally pasand nahi hai, yaar.”

“Areee, woh sab chhod. Sirf Harsh ka bata.”

Virendra wasn't giving up.

Navika stared at him for a few seconds.

“Bilkul nahi pasand woh Parvati Chuha mujhe.”

Janvi immediately covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

Navika continued, now slightly irritated.

“Aur mujhse yeh sab mat poocha karo. Mujhe kisi pe koi crush nahi hai. Koi bhi nahi. Baat khatam.”

Virendra raised both hands in surrender.

“Haan, theek hai, theek hai.”

There was a brief silence.

Then, as casually as if he hadn't just been interrogating her about her love life, Virendra asked,

“Waise khane mein kya laayi hai?”

Navika stared at him.

“Poha aur thode se namkeen.”

“Namkeen dena yaar.”

Navika sighed and opened her bag, searching for the small box.

Beside her, Janvi looked at Virendra.

She gave him a warning look.

Chup.

Virendra immediately understood.

But judging by the mischievous smile creeping onto his face…

he clearly wasn't planning to stay quiet for long.

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The scene shifted to the classroom.

Near the window stood Jyoti Bahgel, the class's most chaotic, lame, and completely illogical joker. Beside her was Naina, who was practically always ready to pick a fight, perpetually frustrated, and naturally sarcastic.

And then there was Vedika—the tiny piece of chain that somehow managed to keep Jyoti, Naina, and Navika together.

Vedika was the tallest among them. Originally from Rajasthan, she was here because of her father's transfer, just like Virendra.

The three girls were standing near the classroom window, which overlooked the school's main pathway—the route through which students entered and left the school.

Then Jyoti spotted Navika walking toward the classroom with Janvi.

A mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Aa gayi haramkhor…” she called out teasingly.

Navika looked toward them and smiled in confusion, her expression practically saying,

What the hell?

The moment she stepped into the classroom, something unexpected happened.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

All three girls started clapping.

It was their stupid little ritual.

It had originally started with Jyoti being clapped for whenever she entered the classroom. Somehow, over time, the tradition had expanded to include everyone.

Navika rubbed the top of her head in embarrassment and muttered,

“Saalon, marwaoge.”

Naina immediately jumped in.

“Aa gayi? Tu toh aaj Agra jaane wali thi na?”

Navika nodded.

She had planned to go to Agra with her mother and aunt for some shopping. She affectionately called her aunt “meri jaan.”

Unfortunately, those plans had been cancelled.

“Mummy ke periods aa gaye aaj,” Navika explained casually. “Toh unhone kaha Sunday ko chalenge ab.”

The three girls nodded together.

“Achha.”

Before the conversation could continue, Anjali came bouncing toward them.

Anjali was one of the biggest tattletales in school. Short, slightly chubby, and almost always bursting with some piece of information, she had also managed to become the class topper in eighth grade.

Well…

until Navika made a comeback in the half yearly.

Now, she came running toward Navika with an expression of pure excitement.

“Oyeee, Navuuu!”

Navika turned.

“Aaj humari assembly ki baari haiiii!”

“Bhenchod.”

The word slipped smoothly out of Navika's mouth.

Anjali's grin widened.

“Kuch taiyaar nahi kiya na?”

Navika's expression immediately gave her away.

Anjali laughed.

Just then, Hemant entered the classroom.

He was part of Virendra's friend group and had a not-so-secret crush on Anu, a new girl who, unfortunately for him, had already assigned him the dreaded “bhai” status.

He walked in with an air of importance.

“Main news laya hoon.”

Anjali immediately jumped in.

“Main toh thought laayi hoon!”

She proudly held up a piece of paper.

Jyoti snatched it and read it.

“Sahi hai yaar…”

The classroom was slowly filling with noise again.

Then the door opened.

And someone walked in whom most of the class barely saw twice a week.

Dev Yadav.

Tall. A good cricket player. Quiet enough to disappear into the background whenever he wanted.

Not because he was unpopular.

Mostly because he was rarely there.

His frequent absence had made him almost a mystery to his own classmates.

The moment Virendra spotted him, he let out a loud hoot.

“OHHH! Dekho kaun aaya hai!”

Yuvan, one of the most well-known students and players in the class, immediately stood up as though they had just witnessed the return of someone who had been missing for years.

Even Harsh—the same Harsh whose name had been discussed on the bus that morning—walked toward him.

Yuvan grinned.

“Bhai, aaj bhi kyun aaya hai? Agle hafte aa jaata aaram se!”

A few students laughed.

Dev simply shrugged.

“Yaar, ghar mein kaam the.”

“Achhaaa…”

The response came from almost everyone at once.

Before the teasing could continue, a familiar face appeared at the classroom door.

Sanjay Pathak.

The maths teacher.

Loved by some.

Feared by most.

He barely needed to say anything before the entire class started getting into position.

He simply peeked inside and announced,

“Chalo, sab bahar.”

The classroom emptied almost instantly.

Navika walked out with her group, talking and laughing as they headed toward the assembly area.

A few steps behind them, Dev followed.

For a moment, his eyes lifted.

They landed on Navika.

He looked at her quietly.

Just for a second.

Then, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, he lowered his gaze and continued walking.

Navika didn't notice.

Or perhaps…

she simply didn't look back.

-------_--------------_------------------_------------------_-------------------_----------------_------------

The students were scattered across the school ground as they were every morning, standing in their usual, barely organized groups.

At the front stood Baba, the students' nickname for their Social Science teacher, Satyendra Deo. He was well into his sixties and had been teaching for so long that half the students couldn't imagine the school without him.

He brought the microphone close to his mouth.

“Sab apni-apni line mein lag jao!”

His voice echoed across the ground.

Students immediately began scrambling into their respective lines.

Meanwhile, Navika, Vedika, Hemant, Anjali, Jyoti, and Virendra made their way onto the stage. They stood in a neat line, each carrying a small piece of paper.

One by one, they handed their papers to Navika.

She carefully collected all of them and slipped them into the file.

It was a simple precaution.

Because if even one paper went missing, Baba would make sure they heard about it.

Navika adjusted the file against her chest and looked toward the crowd.

There weren't many students—barely around two hundred—but standing on a stage with every pair of eyes potentially watching her suddenly made the crowd feel much bigger.

Her stomach tightened.

Don't mess this up.

She took a small breath and stepped toward the podium.

The microphone was too low.

She adjusted it to her height, cleared her throat, and began.

“Good morning to all of you. Today, Class Eighth is going to conduct the assembly.”

Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

For a brief second, she glanced behind her at Vedika.

Vedika gave her a small, reassuring look.

Navika turned back toward the students.

“Join your hands, and let's start with the Gayatri Mantra.”

She began chanting softly.

One by one, the voices of the students joined hers, spreading across the school ground.

The Gayatri Mantra ended, followed by the regular morning prayer, sung warmly by everyone.

Then came the thought for the day, delivered by Anjali.

Hemant followed with the news.

And finally, it was time for the National Anthem.

Baba lifted the microphone.

“Attention!”

A loud, synchronized thump echoed across the ground as hundreds of feet struck the floor.

“Stand at ease!”

The students relaxed back into position.

A moment later—

“Attention!”

Another collective thump.

The National Anthem began.

Navika stood straight, her eyes fixed ahead.

Everything felt completely normal.

Almost routine.

Until, in the middle of the anthem, she happened to glance sideways.

A pair of eyes was watching her.

She noticed them.

For a second, she simply assumed it was nothing.

People looked at people.

Nothing strange about that.

She turned her attention forward again.

The anthem ended.

“Jai Hind!”

The entire ground responded together.

“Jai Hind!”

Navika lowered her shoulders slightly.

But before she could fully relax, those same eyes found her again.

She caught the gaze for a brief moment.

Her brows pulled together.

What?

She frowned slightly, but didn't let herself get distracted.

Baba's voice echoed through the microphone.

“Dispersion!”

The carefully arranged lines instantly began breaking apart as students started moving toward their respective classes.

Navika turned with her group and walked away.

She didn't look back.

Not this time.