Aira Kapoor didn't expect the questions to start so quickly.
She'd barely sat down in class when someone leaned across the aisle and whispered,
"So… are you and Reyhan a thing now?"
Aira's pen froze mid-sentence.
"I—what?" she muttered.
The girl smirked. "Everyone's talking."
Of course they were.
Aira forced a shrug. "People talk about everything."
"But you didn't say no," the girl pressed.
Aira looked away.
Because suddenly, the answer felt heavier than it should've.
"I don't owe anyone an explanation," she said quietly.
The girl laughed. "Wow. Guess it's serious."
Aira hated how her chest reacted to that word.
Serious.
---
By lunch, it was worse.
Whispers followed her tray.
Looks lingered too long.
Every interaction felt observed.
Sia plopped down beside her, eyes blazing.
"Okay, I'm officially annoyed. Since when did Northcrest become a gossip newsroom?"
Aira poked at her food. "I didn't think it'd be this… intense."
"Because you're not doing anything wrong," Sia snapped.
"People just hate quiet confidence."
Aira sighed. "I don't feel confident."
"You look it," Sia said. "That scares them."
A moment later, Reyhan sat down across from Aira.
The cafeteria went suspiciously silent.
Aira looked up. "Why does it feel like we walked into a courtroom?"
Reyhan smirked lightly. "Relax. I've been judged worse."
Someone at a nearby table whispered loudly,
"Guess even Reyhan Malhotra settles eventually."
Aira flinched.
Reyhan didn't react.
That alone shocked her.
She leaned forward, whispering, "Aren't you going to say something?"
He met her eyes calmly. "Do you want me to?"
The question landed hard.
Not I will.
Not I don't care.
Just… your choice.
Aira hesitated.
Then shook her head. "No. It's not worth it."
Reyhan nodded.
And let it go.
That mattered more than any dramatic defense.
---
Later that afternoon, Aira was called to the faculty corridor.
Her stomach twisted the moment she saw the counselor's door.
Inside, the counselor smiled politely.
"Aira, this is nothing serious. Just a check-in."
Aira sat, hands folded tightly.
"We've noticed a few… social shifts lately," the counselor continued.
"Nothing inappropriate. But I wanted to ask how you're adjusting."
Aira swallowed. "I'm fine."
"Are you feeling pressured by anyone?" the counselor asked gently.
"Friends, classmates… relationships?"
Aira thought of Reyhan.
The way he waited.
The way he asked before acting.
The way he stepped back when she needed space.
"No," she said honestly.
"I'm not being pressured."
The counselor smiled. "That's good. Just remember—choices feel heavier when people are watching."
Aira nodded.
She already knew.
---
When she stepped back into the hallway, Reyhan was leaning against the wall outside.
Waiting.
Not pacing.
Not impatient.
Just there.
Her heart squeezed painfully.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Felt like you might not want to walk back alone."
She hesitated. "You didn't have to wait."
"I know."
They started walking.
Quiet.
Aira finally spoke. "People are questioning things. Teachers. Students. Everyone."
Reyhan nodded. "I noticed."
"Does it bother you?"
He glanced at her. "Does it bother you?"
She thought for a moment.
"Not what they say," she admitted.
"But what it makes me doubt."
Reyhan slowed slightly. "What do you doubt?"
Aira stopped walking.
He stopped instantly.
She took a breath.
"Whether I'm strong enough to choose something quietly… when everyone wants a loud answer."
Reyhan didn't respond immediately.
Then he said softly,
"You don't owe anyone a performance."
Her throat tightened.
"You don't have to be brave for me," he continued.
"You just have to be honest with yourself."
Aira looked at him.
Really looked.
And realized something terrifying.
She wasn't doubting him.
She was doubting her own right to choose happiness without permission.
"I don't regret it," she said quietly.
Reyhan's eyes softened.
"Then that's your answer," he replied.
Aira exhaled slowly.
For the first time that day, the pressure eased.
They reached the stairs.
Aira hesitated, then said softly,
"Walk me to class?"
Reyhan smiled — small, steady.
"Every time."
They walked side by side, not touching, not hiding.
Choosing each other — again.
RULE #29: Don't let them question your choice.
Because doubt grows louder when it's not yours.