Chapter 7: The Fall and the Fracture

Ananya started a one-sided cold war with me.

Whenever we crossed paths in the corridor, she’d look straight through me, as if I were invisible. She’d laugh a little too loudly with her friends, toss her hair, make a show of being happy without me. It was all so familiar, and yet, this time, I refused to chase after her.

Whenever she saw me, she’d turn away, acting like I didn’t exist.

Her old tactics—ignoring me until I apologised—no longer had any power. I focused on my books, my goals, refusing to let her draw me back into her orbit.

She’s always been like this. Whenever I upset her, she’d ignore me until I apologised and made up.

I used to think it was cute, a sign that she cared. Now, I saw it for what it was—a childish game, a way to control me.

I was glad for the peace and focused on my studies even more.

The house felt quieter, my mind clearer. I fell into a routine—wake up, study, eat, repeat. My mother noticed the change, nodding in approval, slipping extra almonds into my tiffin.

Soon, the first pre-board arrived quietly.

No fanfare, just the steady march of time. The exam hall smelled of ink and sweat, the ceiling fans creaking overhead. I sharpened my pencils, determined to do my best.

I prepared seriously and felt pretty confident.

For the first time in years, I walked into the exam hall without fear. My mind was sharp, my heart steady.

After the test, classmates gathered, excitedly discussing answers.

The corridor buzzed with speculation—'Did you get question four?' 'What did you write for the essay?' The nervous energy was infectious.

Someone said, "Did you hear? Ananya skipped the exam. No one saw her all afternoon. Her class teacher is searching everywhere."

The news spread like wildfire. The whispers grew louder, heads turning, eyes widening. Even the teachers looked concerned.

Ananya was always a school celebrity. Even though we weren’t in the same class, I heard news about her all the time.

Her name was on everyone’s lips—admired, envied, gossiped about. No one could stay indifferent to her for long.

Once someone mentioned her, everyone started gossiping with great interest.

Theories abounded—'She must be sick,' 'Maybe her parents took her to the temple.' But those who knew her better suspected the truth.

I found it boring, packed my things, and headed home for dinner.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, ignoring the chatter. My stomach growled, reminding me that my mother’s aloo paratha was waiting at home.

Halfway there, I saw Kabir holding Ananya as they appeared in front of me.

They walked down the lane, arms around each other, oblivious to the world. Their matching scowls dared anyone to question their choices.

She’d changed a lot. Her long hair was cut short, her makeup was heavy, and she even wore black lipstick.

It was a transformation as shocking as it was deliberate—a rebellion against every rule she’d once followed. Her new perfume—a sharp, unfamiliar scent—lingered in the corridor long after she passed. She looked fierce, almost unrecognisable, yet heartbreakingly familiar.

But she was still beautiful.

No amount of makeup or attitude could hide her natural charm. I wondered if she realised how much she’d changed—or if she even cared.

Kabir showed off, "She gave up the exam for me. Would she ever do that for you? Rohan, you’re just a loser."

He smirked, pulling her closer, staking his claim. The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.

I couldn’t be bothered. "Yeah, a loser."

I shrugged, not rising to the bait. The old me would have argued, but now, I saw the futility.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Kabir’s face. "I can say whatever I want. What’s it to you? Just stay a bookworm—no girl will ever like you."

His bravado seemed forced, the insecurity behind it plain to see. I almost felt sorry for him.

Did he think all girls were as shallow as him?

I smirked inwardly, knowing that the world was bigger than his narrow view.

Ananya leaned into him, saying sweetly, "Kabir, now do you believe I love you most? I’d give up anything for you."

Her voice dripped with devotion, her eyes shining. She clung to him as if he were her only anchor.

"Don’t threaten me with breaking up again. Without you, I can’t live."

She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, her words desperate and raw. I remembered when she’d said those things to me, in quieter moments.

Kabir looked touched, held her hand, and knelt on one knee. "Ananya, you’re the light God gave me. Thank you for shining on me."

He looked up at her with genuine awe, as if she were his last hope. The scene felt theatrical, but the emotion was real.

I was speechless and walked away.

I had nothing more to say, no fight left in me. Their world no longer intersected with mine.

Behind me, they hugged and kissed, like they were in some TV serial.

Theatrics for an audience, but I refused to watch any longer. I kept my head down, my mind on the future.

Later, to cover up her lie, Ananya deliberately hurt her right hand, claiming she missed the exam because of a fracture.

The bandage was elaborate, but I recognised the act. She’d always been a convincing liar when she wanted to be.

Ananya’s mum was anxious. "What do we do now? How can she study like this? The board exams are coming."

Her mother wrung her hands, eyes red from crying. She looked to me for reassurance, as if I could still fix things.

Ananya looked unconcerned. "Worst case, I’ll repeat the year. No big deal. Mummy, I’m so smart—I’ll do even better if I study another year."

She flashed a carefree smile, her bravado unconvincing. Her mother sighed, defeated.

Her mum could only sigh and pleaded with me, "Rohan beta, your grades are good. Help Ananya if you have time."

Her voice was hopeful, but I heard the desperation underneath. I nodded politely, not wanting to promise anything.

When the pre-board results came out, I was in the top ten in my grade.

The teachers congratulated me, patting me on the back. My mother beamed with pride, calling relatives to boast.

In my previous life, my best result was barely outside the top ten.

I realised then how much I’d been holding myself back. The taste of victory was sweet, and I vowed never to settle for less again.

The class teacher looked at me approvingly, saying I might be the dark horse of this year’s class.

His words filled me with hope. I could see a different future—a life built on my own terms, not someone else’s.

Before I could say anything, Ananya blurted out, "No. I don’t want him to tutor me."

Her voice was sharp, her eyes narrowed. She glared at me as if I were the enemy.

Her mother was embarrassed and tried to smooth things over. "Well, it’s board year. Rohan should focus on his own studies."

She forced a smile, her hands twisting in her dupatta. The tension in the room was palpable.

My mum felt sorry for her, eyes red, asking Ananya if her hand hurt.

My mother had always treated Ananya like family, fussing over her the way she did with me. Her concern was genuine, and I felt a pang of guilt.

My mum had watched her grow up and treated her like half a daughter.

She would always say, 'Ananya is the daughter I never had.' Seeing them both hurt broke my heart a little.

Ananya smiled sweetly. "Aunty, it doesn’t hurt at all."

Her charm was disarming, her smile hiding the storm within. My mother stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort.

When the adults left, she sneered at me, "Don’t think I’m pathetic. Love can numb pain—what’s a little injury?"

Her eyes glittered with defiance, her words sharp as knives. I refused to rise to the bait.

"You’re just a bookworm. Don’t get cocky just because my mum praised you."

She tossed her head, as if my achievements meant nothing. I smiled to myself, knowing I didn’t need her approval anymore.

"Don’t come looking for me again. I don’t want Kabir to get the wrong idea."

Her voice was final, her eyes cold. I shrugged, unbothered.

With that, she picked up the orange my mum had asked me to peel for her and tossed it straight into the dustbin.

The orange hit the bin with a dull thud, the scent of citrus filling the air. It was a small act, but it stung all the same.

"I won’t eat anything from you. It’s as disgusting as you are."

The words bounced off me, powerless. I turned away, focusing on my own path.

I ignored her, still riding the high of making the top ten.

For once, her anger didn’t matter. My dreams were bigger than our broken friendship.

If my mum hadn’t dragged me over, I wouldn’t have come at all.

I resolved to keep my distance, for both our sakes.