Rhea's Pov
The class was unusually calm—too calm. The kind of calm teachers use before causing emotional damage.
Mrs. Chatterjee announced a surprise problem on the board.
"Only one person," she said, eyes flicking briefly at Kabir, then away. "Solve it."
Front benches leaned forward like spectators.
My heart sank.
Kabir stood.
Of course he did.
He walked to the board with that irritating calm, chalk steady, handwriting neat like his thoughts were always organised.
I watched him solve it—not fast, not slow. Just… right.
Someone whispered, "He's showing off."
I whispered back, "He's breathing."
When he sat down again, Mrs. Chatterjee looked at me.
"Rhea," she said. "Explain why his solution works."
Oh.
So this was how they'd do it now.
Kabir turned slightly, just enough to look at me.
Not worried.
Not expectant.
Just… there.
I stood.
Explained it.
And somewhere between talking about logic and structure, I realised something terrifying:
I trusted him.
Not just academically.
Personally.
When I sat down, our eyes met for a second too long.
Samar noticed.
He always did.
"Oho," he whispered. "What was that?"
"Nothing," I said too quickly.
Kabir looked away first.
That annoyed me.
Free period.
Everyone scattered except us.
Rain tapped against the windows again, like it had a contract with our emotional development.
I pretended to organise my bag.
Kabir pretended to read.
We were both terrible liars.
"You didn't have to let me answer," I said finally.
He looked up. "You didn't need help."
"That's not what I meant."
Silence.
Then he said, "They'll start pairing us."
I frowned. "For what?"
"For everything," he replied. "Success looks suspicious when it's consistent."
I laughed softly. "Let them."
He didn't smile.
"I don't want them using you," he said. "Or blaming you."
My chest tightened.
"And you?" I asked. "You're fine being blamed?"
He met my eyes. "I'm used to it."
That was worse than any dramatic line.
Later, during dismissal, someone bumped into me.
My books slipped.
Kabir caught them.
Our fingers brushed.
Electricity is real. Science was right.
We both froze.
He didn't let go immediately.
Neither did I.
Samar cleared his throat loudly. "Am I interrupting a moment, or—"
Kabir stepped back.
I glared at Samar. "You are always interrupting."
Kabir almost smiled.
Almost.
As we walked out, side by side but not touching, I realised the tension wasn't attraction.
It was restraint.
Two people refusing to lean in because the fall would be visible.
And dangerous.
Kabir spoke quietly, like the hallway wasn't listening.
"Rhea."
I stopped.
"Yes?"
"If things get worse… don't step back."
I searched his face. "From what?"
"From me."
Oh.
That wasn't fair.
He walked ahead before I could answer.
I stood there, heart doing something inconvenient again.
Because the worst part?
I didn't want to step back.
I wanted to step closer.😳❤️