The New Math's Professor
Misha's POV:
I was sitting in my classroom, totally zoned out, thinking about last night…
Lost in my thoughts.
The way his lips brushed mine. The way he looked at me like I was something he’d been searching for. The way my heart didn’t know whether to race or stop completely.
“Misha, what do you suggest?” Pihu asks.
“What?” I reply, startled.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“Nothing… What were we talking about?” I mumble.
“We weren’t talking. I was talking. You were lost in your own world,” she says, mock-annoyed, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.
I take a deep breath and lean closer. “Pihu, remember my brother’s best friend I told you about?”
She hums. Nonchalantly. Like it’s no big deal.
“He’s back.”
Her eyes narrow. “And for some reason, you’re blank… not frustrated like every other time he’s here.”
“Blank?” I ask.
“Yes. You’re usually like—‘he can die, I don’t care, I’m not talking to him first, why is he so annoying’…” she says, mimicking my dramatic voice with surprising accuracy.
“I hate you,” I tell her, laughing despite myself.
“You can’t, even if you want to,” she grins. “Now tell me, did he explain the reason for that kiss? Will there be more kisses? What did he say? And why did you tell me all this last night if you’re going to stay this blank now?”
“I don’t know if there’ll be more kisses,” I say truthfully. “And no… he didn’t explain anything.”
“Then?” she presses.
I hesitate. “Pihu… last night, he came to my room…”
She leans in like a spy hearing top-secret info. “And…?”
“He kissed me.”
Pihu bites her lip, barely holding back a squeal. “And…?”
I groan. “Pihu… I really tried not to. I wanted to talk things out. Be clear. Draw boundaries. But he just—he didn’t give me a chance. He just pulled me in.”
“Excuse me, girls—if it’s not a problem, you have a class to attend,” a deep, smug voice interrupts.
I freeze.
No.
No, no, no.
Slowly, like in some horror film, I turn around. And there he is.
Dhruv.
Wearing confidence like it’s tailored for him. That infuriatingly perfect smile tugging at his lips.
“Thank you. Care to take your seats?” he says coolly.
I swallow. “Pihu…”
“Who’s the new professor?” she whispers.
“Pihu, do you remember my brother’s best friend?” I mutter.
“We were literally just talking about him, Misha,” she replies, eyes narrowing.
“Yeah… I forgot to mention something,” I add.
She raises an eyebrow. “And that would be?”
“He graduated with a degree in Mathematics… and now he’s in our classroom.”
She stares. Mouth open. Fully stunned.
“Hi guys,” he says to the class, like he hasn’t just lit my world on fire.
“My name is Dhruv, and I’m your new Math’s professor.”
My phone buzzes on my desk.
From: Dhruv
“Morning, love…”
I nearly choke.
I glance at him. He’s busy smiling and introducing himself to the class, but his eyes—those treacherous eyes—are locked on me.
I cover my face with my hand, resisting the urge to scream into my palm. Every time our eyes meet, he teases me with that damn smirk. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
Fifty minutes have never felt longer.
Pihu keeps giving me side-eyes, biting her knuckle to stop from laughing every time Dhruv asks something and subtly waits for me to answer.
By the time the bell rings, I’m already halfway packed.
I bolt out like my life depends on it.
But of course—
“Misha…”
His voice wraps around me like a leash. I stop, sighing in defeat.
I turn. “Yes… Sir.”
His smile deepens. “Sir?”
My cheeks flush. “What do you want?”
“What do you have to offer?” he throws back, eyes twinkling.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask softly, more exhausted than angry.
“Doing what?” he replies, tilting his head. Acting like he’s innocent. Like he didn’t sneak into my room and rewrite four years of silence with one kiss.
“Can I leave?” I whisper.
“Sure. But before that… won’t you introduce me to your beautiful friend?” he says, glancing at Pihu like he hadn’t already stalked her Instagram.
I shoot him a glare, but Pihu steps forward, grinning like a traitor.
“I’m Pihu,” she says sweetly. “Your current interest’s best friend.”
He chuckles. “Current interest?”
“Really?” she says.
“What makes you think I have other interests?” he shoots back.
Okay. Nope. No more flirting. Not on my watch.
“Stop it. You,” I point at Dhruv, “I will chop your head off if you don’t stop interfering in my life whenever you feel like it!”
“Is she always this aggressive?” he asks Pihu, clearly enjoying this too much.
Pihu shrugs. “Nope. But I’m enjoying it.”
“Pihu!” I glare.
“Umm… sorry,” she says, not even pretending to mean it.
I grab her hand and drag her away like a raging storm.
“I’ll kill you,” I mutter.
I’m frustrated. From waiting. From hoping. From not understanding.
How could he kiss me and walk away like it meant nothing?
After four years of silence, he kisses me, shows up in my classroom, flirts with my best friend, and acts like he’s just doing everyone a favor.
How?
Why?
By the end of the day, Pihu finally stopped raving about how “annoyingly good-looking” Dhruv is. I calmed down—kind of. Forced myself through my classes, and the moment they ended, I fled campus.
I went straight home, marched to my brother’s room, and flung open the door.
“You know, we share the same bloodline. You were supposed to tell me about the bomb your best friend dropped on me today!”
He stood there, in just his shorts, towel over his shoulder. “You’re supposed to knock.”
“Wait till I knock your head off,” I snap.
He rolls his eyes. “He asked me not to tell you.”
“And you chose him over me?” I say, betrayal oozing from every word.
“Misha… It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, congratulations. I’m traumatized,” I mutter, storming off.
I throw my bag in a corner and collapse on my bed, burying my face in my pillow.
Tired.
Tired from last night.
Tired of overthinking.
Tired of Dhruv.
Sleep takes over faster than I expect.
But even in dreams… he finds me.
