Sports Period – Eyana's POV
The court was alive with noise—cheers, sneakers squeaking, and the echo of the basketball slamming against the ground. I stood with Tejal and Jhanvi by the bleachers, arms crossed, still cold from everything Avyansh said earlier. His note burned in my pocket, but I hadn't looked at him once all day.
He tried catching my eyes in the corridor. I looked the other way.
He sat beside me during chemistry. I shifted away.
Now here we were—on the basketball court, where everything and nothing was a game.
Avyansh was team captain. Of course.
But so was Siddhartha. That was unexpected.
The match began. Both boys were good—fast, fierce, like they had something to prove. But only one of them kept glancing toward the stands like he needed to be seen. Noticed. Wanted.
Avyansh.
I didn't flinch.
Instead, I leaned in as Siddhartha made a clean three-pointer.
"Let's go, Siddhartha!" I cheered, clapping. "That's how you do it!"
He shot me a smile—genuine, light, a little surprised.
I could feel the heat of Avyansh's glare from across the court.
Next time Siddhartha made a steal, I whistled. Loud.
"You've got this! You're killing it out there!"
That was it.
Avyansh fumbled the ball. For the first time, his composure slipped. His teammates looked confused, but I knew exactly what cracked his focus.
Me.
By the end of the match, Siddhartha's team had won. He jogged over to get water, sweaty and flushed but grinning. "Thanks for the cheer squad," he said with a wink.
Before I could respond, a hand grabbed my wrist—tight, familiar, furious.
"Walk with me," Avyansh muttered.
I barely had time to protest before he was dragging me away from the bleachers, out of sight, past the gym, behind the school building—where no one could see.
"Have you completely lost it?" I snapped, pulling my arm back.
But his eyes—dark, burning—met mine with a wildness I hadn't seen before.
"You really want to play this game with me, Eyana?
"You really want to play this game with me, Eyana?"
His voice was low. Dangerous. It wasn't the usual teasing Avyansh. This was something else.
I folded my arms, refusing to back down. "What game? The one where you call me a classmate and expect me to still stand in the front row of your fan club?"
His jaw clenched. "You know I didn't mean it like that."
I laughed—cold and bitter. "You didn't say it like that."
A silence fell between us, sharp like shattered glass. He took a step closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. The storm in his eyes hadn't calmed. It only grew.
"Don't cheer for him again," he said through gritted teeth.
My brows shot up. "Excuse me?"
He stepped even closer, and now we were toe to toe. "You heard me."
"And who the hell are you to tell me who I can or can't cheer for?" I snapped, my voice trembling—not with fear, but something else. Something twisted and breathless.
Avyansh's eyes locked onto mine, unreadable. "You think this doesn't affect me? Watching you smile at him like that—laughing, clapping, like he matters to you?"
I blinked, taken aback. "Why do you care, Avyansh? You're the one who let Roohi hang all over you like you didn't already have someone who—"
I cut myself off, biting the inside of my cheek. My heart was thudding now. Loud. Visible.
His voice dropped even lower. "Someone who what, Eyana?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
His hand came up slowly and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch soft in contrast to the chaos between us. "You drive me insane," he whispered. "You don't even realize it."
I looked up at him, and for a split second—just a second—I saw the boy behind the jealousy. The one who maybe didn't know how to say I miss you, so he ruined you instead.
"I won't be your backup plan, Avyansh," I whispered back.
He didn't flinch.
"I never wanted a backup," he said. "I wanted you. I just didn't know how to say it before someone else tried to take you."
Eyana's POV
For a moment, I just stood there—staring at him. At his confession. At the boy who finally said something real.
And maybe in another world, another timeline where he hadn't let Roohi curl into his side or called me just a classmate, I would've let that moment melt between us.
But not here.
Not now.
Not after everything.
I stepped back. "Too late, Avyansh."
His hand dropped, the softness in his eyes flickering out like a dying flame.
"You don't mean that," he said, his voice almost breaking. "You're just angry."
I held my chin high. "Maybe. But at least I'm not confused. You only want me now that someone else dares to stand beside me."
He didn't deny it.
His silence? That was worse than any apology.
I turned on my heel, my breath ragged but steady, and started walking back toward the court.
"Eyana," he called after me, a desperate edge to his voice. "I messed up, okay? But don't walk away from me like I mean nothing."
I paused. Just for a second. Then—
"You made me feel like nothing first."
And then I walked off.
Head high.
Heart wrecked.
Siddhartha's POV
She came back to the court with fire in her eyes—but her soul looked like it had been scorched.
I handed her a water bottle. "Hey... you okay?"
She didn't respond at first. Just took the bottle with trembling fingers and stared straight ahead like she was still fighting a storm only she could see.
"I saw what happened," I added gently.
That got her attention. She blinked, turned to me, and smiled—but it didn't reach her eyes. "Don't worry. I'm just dramatic like that."
"No, you're hurt," I said plainly. "And I'd rather have your silence than a fake smile."
She paused, eyes softening. Then: "Thanks... for noticing."
And that was it. No dramatic lines. No long stares. Just two people sitting quietly, side by side, where words would've only made things heavier.
Girls' Washroom (Eyana, Tejal, Jhanvi)
Tejal burst in first, dragging Eyana with her. "Okay, what was that?! Did Avyansh seriously just drag you out like a territorial wolf?"
Jhanvi handed Eyana tissues like it was an emergency kit. "And then you just left him standing there? Girl, you're kind of iconic."
Eyana slumped against the sink, still catching her breath. "I didn't want to cry in front of him."
"Oh my god," Tejal whispered, stepping closer. "Did he say something?"
Eyana looked between them, lips trembling slightly before she let out a deep breath.
"He said he can't stand me cheering for someone else. That he doesn't like seeing me with Siddhartha."
She paused. "And that he misses me."
Jhanvi's eyes widened. "Okay but... that should be romantic. Why does it sound like a guilt trip?"
"Because it is," Eyana said softly. "He didn't say he was sorry. He didn't say I matter. He just couldn't handle not being the center of my world anymore."
There was silence. Just the sound of the water dripping from the tap. Tejal reached out and hugged her tight.
"You're allowed to be the main character in your own story too, Eyana," she whispered. "Don't let him steal that."
Lunchtime – Eyana walking toward the library steps, alone
She just needed a break. A break from the noise, from the glances, from the way her own heart wouldn't stop racing every time she thought of Avyansh's fingers wrapped around her wrist.
She sat on the cold stone steps beside the library building, absently picking at her sandwich.
"Skipping lunch too?"
The voice pulled her from her thoughts.
She looked up to see Siddhartha, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes scanning her like he already knew she wasn't okay.
"I'm just... not hungry," she muttered.
He dropped beside her without asking.
"Me neither. But I do have a suggestion." He paused like he was choosing his words carefully. "Wanna come with me after school today?"
She blinked. "Come with you where?"
"There's this chai tapri behind the old book depot. Quiet. No crowd. Good vibes," he smiled. "I figured you could use a place where nobody's trying to own your emotions."
Her breath hitched for a second. He said that like he'd read straight through her.
"I—uh..." she hesitated. This was new. Unexpected. Tempting.
"I'm not hitting on you," he added with a teasing grin. "I just... want to know you when you're not pretending to be okay."
That one line pierced something inside her. Because that's exactly what she was doing—pretending.
She met his gaze. Steady. Real.
"...Okay," she said.
And just as she nodded, Avyansh walked past the corridor across from them—his eyes accidentally locking with hers.
And in that moment, Eyana didn't look away.
But it was the first time she saw him clench his jaw and keep walking.
Avyansh's POV – Boys' locker room, post-sports period
He slammed the locker shut a little too hard.
His friends noticed—Tejal raised an eyebrow, Atharva exchanged a glance with Veeryansh—but no one said anything.
They didn't need to.
The image of Eyana laughing softly with Siddhartha outside the library had been burned into his mind. That casual closeness. The way Siddhartha looked at her—like he saw her. Like he had some secret access Avyansh had lost.
And she didn't look away.
She always looked away with him. Flushed. Shy. Angry, maybe—but never unmoved.
Until now.
"Bro," Atharva muttered, nudging him. "You good?"
He didn't respond.
Because no, he wasn't.
She used to cheer for him. She used to wait for him.
And now she was walking around school like nothing ever happened—like that night didn't burn holes in both their hearts.
And now Siddhartha?
His jaw clenched.
Not today. Not now.
But soon—he'd have to do something. Or lose her for good.
After school
Eyana wasn't sure why she agreed. But here she was, walking beside Siddhartha under the amber hue of a fading sun. The world felt slower, quieter here—far from La Vie Café or basketball courts or whispered stares.
They sat on a bench, a small steel cup of steaming ginger chai in their hands.
"I didn't know this place existed," she said, looking around.
"I come here when I need to breathe," he replied.
She looked at him sideways. "Do you always say things like that?"
He chuckled. "Only to people who pretend they don't feel anything when their eyes tell a different story."
She paused. "You really think you know me?"
"No," he said, turning serious. "But I'd like to."
Silence.
And then she whispered, "Why me?"
He didn't blink. "Because I see a girl trying so hard to hold herself together while everything inside her screams to fall apart."
That made her throat tighten.
"And?" she asked, voice low.
"And I want to be someone you don't have to fake a smile for."
She looked down into her cup, tears prickling behind her eyes. She didn't know if this was friendship or something more, but in that moment—Siddhartha made her feel seen.
Really seen.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
Avyansh: Are you home?
She stared at the screen.
No reply.
She slipped the phone back into her bag and looked up at Siddhartha with a soft smile.
"Thanks for the chai."
"You're welcome," he said, and didn't push for anything more.
Avyansh's POV – From across the road
He hadn't planned to follow her.
Honestly, he didn't even realize his feet were carrying him this way... until he saw her.
There she was.
Perched on the edge of that old wooden bench like she belonged there—with him.
Siddhartha.
They were sipping chai like it was their little ritual. She was smiling—softly, not the fake polite one she wore in class. No, this smile had warmth. Trust. A kind of calm Avyansh hadn't seen in her in weeks.
And it wasn't for him.
He stood frozen on the other side of the street, hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his jacket. The steam rising from their chai felt like a mockery of how cold his chest suddenly felt.
Siddhartha said something, and she laughed.
That laugh.
The one he used to pull from her between late-night texts and accidental shoulder bumps. The laugh he thought was his.
And now?
Now it was Siddhartha she turned to. It was Siddhartha who got the vulnerability, the comfort, the silence.
And Avyansh—he was stuck with her avoidance. Her cold glances. Her cheer for the other guy on the court.
He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood.
Then her phone buzzed. She looked at it, expression unreadable. For a second, he hoped—
Maybe it was him. Maybe she'd reply.
But she didn't.
She slipped the phone back into her bag and turned back to Siddhartha like nothing else mattered.
His stomach twisted.
He turned away before he could see more.
Before he could do something stupid—like walk over and drag her away the way he wanted to. Like look at Siddhartha and say she was never yours.
But the truth was, he didn't know if that was even true anymore.
Maybe she wasn't his either.
Not anymore.
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