Room 412

The air in Delhi had been thick and stagnant, but as the Apex International bus pulled up to the Hotel de la Mer, the Parisian breeze felt like a personal invitation. I stepped off the vehicle, my boots hitting the cobblestones with a decisive thud. For months, our group chat was nothing but Eiffel Tower emojis and croissant rankings.

"I am telling you," I said, adjusting my sunglasses even though the sun was barely peeking through the clouds. "The universe is finally rewarding my patience. No snoring roommates. No fighting over who gets the mirror first. Just me, my thoughts, and a king-sized sanctuary."

Mehak groaned, hauling a suitcase that looked like it contained her entire wardrobe. "It is actually unfair, Anaya. How did you end up as the odd one out? I have to share a room with Simran, and she talks in her sleep about organic chemistry."

"It is called destiny, Mehak," I replied with a smirk, feeling a wave of smug satisfaction. "The teacher said because of the odd registration count, I get the single. I will send you a video of me starfish-ing across the bed while you guys are fighting for floor space."

I was riding a high of pure, unadulterated gloating. I had spent the last year studying for exams, dealing with the pressure of being the responsible student, and now, Paris was my playground. I imagined myself sitting by the window of my private room without anyone asking to borrow my charger.

We swarmed the lobby like a colorful wave of energy. The Hotel de la Mer was beautiful in that old-world way that only European hotels can pull off. The lobby was already packed with another school group, a bunch of boys who looked just as exhausted as we were. I pushed through the crowd to find Mrs. Kapoor, our trip coordinator.

"Anaya, here beta," she said, handing me a plastic key card. "Room 412. Go drop your bags and meet us back here in twenty minutes. Please try not to get lost."

I didn't need to be told twice. I shot a final, triumphant wink at my friends and sprinted for the lifts. I found 412, swiped the card, and listened for the click. It was music to my ears. I burst inside, ready to claim my kingdom, and headed straight for the bathroom to check my hair.

I shoved the door open and stopped dead.

A guy was standing there. He was a student, clearly from the other group, and he was currently occupied with a bottle of hair gel and a very intense stare-down with his own reflection. He had one hand holding a clump of hair up and the other frozen in mid-air.

"What the..." he started, spinning around.

"Who are you?" I screamed, my voice hitting a pitch that probably vibrated the windows. "Why are you in my room? Get out! Now!"

"Your room?" He looked at me like I was the one who had lost my mind. "I have been in here for five minutes trying to fix this flight-flattened hair. This is Room 412. My teacher gave me the card."

"Impossible!" I shouted, waving my card in his face. "I am the only one with a single room! This is my space! You are a mistake!"

"I am not a mistake, I am a guest who would like some privacy!" he yelled back, dropping his gel bottle into the sink with a loud clatter.

"We are going downstairs," I hissed, grabbing my backpack. "Right now. You are going to explain to your school why you are squatting in an Apex International room."

"Squatting? I will show you squatting!" he retorted, following me out as I stormed toward the elevator.

When we hit the lobby, we marched straight to the cluster of teachers. "Mrs. Kapoor!" I yelled over the noise. "There is a boy in my room! He is literally using the bathroom!"

The boy's teacher, a tall man who looked equally confused, stepped forward. "A boy? Kabir, what is she talking about?"

"Sir, she just burst in!" Kabir argued, pointing at me. "I have the key to 412. She claims it is hers!"

The silence that followed was brief before the storm broke. Mrs. Kapoor turned on the hotel manager with a look that could melt steel. "What is the meaning of this? I paid for a single room for my student. Why is there a boy from another school in there?"

The manager turned pale, frantically tapping at his computer. "I am so sorry, Madame. There has been a system overlap. Apex and the other school... the system put the single registrations into the same rooms. It is a technical glitch."

"Fix it," the male teacher snapped. "Give one of them a different room immediately."

The manager’s hands were shaking. "I cannot. Every hotel in this district is fully booked. There is a massive medical convention and a local strike. There is not a single bed available in a ten-mile radius."

"Then we will move the entire batch!" Mrs. Kapoor threatened, slamming her hand on the counter. "This is unacceptable!"

"Madame, please," the manager pleaded. "You will not find forty rooms anywhere else tonight. You would be sleeping on the bus."

The argument went on for twenty minutes, voices rising as the hotel staff apologized repeatedly. Finally, seeing no other way, the manager suggested a compromise. "We will bring in an extra bed. A cot. We will separate the room as much as possible. It is only for two nights."

Mrs. Kapoor looked at me, then at the boy's teacher. The defeat in the room was palpable. She pulled me aside, her expression dead serious. "Anaya, listen to me. You stay on your side of the room. If he so much as breathes in your direction in a way you do not like, you call me immediately. Do you understand? Keep your phone under your pillow."

Across the lobby, I saw the male teacher talking to Kabir. "Maintain your distance, Kabir. Respect her boundaries. I do not want a single complaint. You stay on the extra bed and keep your head down."

Kabir and I made eye contact. The gloating from earlier was gone, replaced by a heavy, awkward tension. We retreated back to the elevator in silence, the weight of a forty-eight-hour forced truce hanging between us. When we reached Room 412, I swiped the card again, but this time, the click of the lock sounded like a prison door closing.