The Rising Tide

August 8, 2009 – 11:30 AM

Jadavpur University, Kolkata – Basic Electrical Engineering Class

The large lecture hall buzzed with the chatter of students settling in for the next class. With over 60 students packed into the tiered seating, the atmosphere was a blend of last-minute note-flipping, low murmurs of half-awake discussions, and the occasional scraping of chair legs against the floor.

Aritra walked in, his expression unreadable, his stride measured and effortless. Unlike many who hurried to grab their usual seats, he moved with the kind of confidence that came from not needing to belong—because he already owned the space.

Katherine followed closely behind, adjusting the strap of her bag as her eyes scanned the hall. It was a joint class for B1, B2, and B3 sections, which meant a full house. The walls, once pristine, bore faint markings of old equations scribbled in chalk by professors who had long since left. Ceiling fans whirred lazily overhead, failing to completely dispel the humidity that clung to the air.

The front rows were mostly occupied by eager students—those desperate to catch every word the professor uttered. The middle rows held a mix of casual learners and quiet observers, while the back rows? Reserved for those who believed presence mattered more than attention.

Aritra made his way toward his usual spot—third row, near the window. It was neither too eager nor too detached, a spot of quiet dominance.

Without thinking, Katherine followed him and slid into the seat beside him.

As soon as she sat down, she caught movement from the corner of her eye—students exchanging glances, whispers passing like electric currents through the rows.

They had noticed.

Of course, they had.

Katherine kept her expression neutral, but internally, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind.

Great. Now I'm the girl sitting beside Aritra Naskar.

She had seen this dynamic play out before—the way people gravitated toward those who held silent power. The ones who weren't loud or boastful, but still commanded attention. Aritra was exactly that type. He didn't talk too much, didn't try too hard, and yet... people noticed him.

Katherine tried to focus on the professor as he entered the hall, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses before rolling out a set of yellowed notes onto the podium.

"Alright, settle down. Today, we begin with basic circuit analysis. Everyone, open your notebooks."

Pens clicked, papers shuffled.

Katherine, however, found herself too aware of the man sitting beside her.

Aritra was dressed in his usual understated style—a crisp, dark blue full-sleeved shirt, rolled up at the elbows, paired with fitted black jeans and a simple, elegant wristwatch. No flashy brands, no unnecessary accessories. Just effortless precision.

The sharp lines of his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow as he flipped open his notebook—it was frustrating how perfect he looked without even trying.

Katherine had spent years around powerful men—men who wore their status like a badge of honor, drowning in designer suits and rehearsed arrogance.

But Aritra? He was different. Unbothered. Detached. Like he had already seen the game play out and was merely indulging it for now.

Why does he feel so… unreal?

She looked down at her own outfit—a simple white blouse tucked into fitted blue jeans, paired with a black wristwatch. Unlike the past few days, where she had tried to dress down, today she hadn't bothered. She wasn't here to blend in. And yet, as she sat beside him, she felt something unfamiliar.

Aware.

Of his presence. Of the way the air around him seemed heavier, more charged.

She tapped her pen against her notebook, forcing herself to focus on the professor's words.

"…current division in parallel circuits is governed by the conductance of each branch…"

Aritra remained completely still beside her, listening, absorbing. Not taking notes, not asking questions. Just present.

Of course, he wasn't going to take notes.

Katherine had learned enough about him in the past few days to realize that he didn't need to.

There was something unnerving about how calm he was. How nothing seemed to shake him.

Like he's seen all of this before.

She exhaled quietly, shaking off the thought. It didn't matter. She wasn't here to analyze him.

She was here to survive.

And sitting beside Aritra Naskar?

It had just made that survival a whole lot more complicated.

She felt her gaze shift back to him again. It was involuntary—a quick glance she tried to suppress. But somehow, her eyes landed on the back of his neck, where his dark hair curled slightly against the collar of his shirt. God, he even looked handsome from this angle.

Katherine quickly blinked, almost as if waking up from a trance, and glanced back down at her notes. Why am I staring at him like this? Her heart rate increased as she fumbled with her pen.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Aritra's lips curve into the faintest of smiles—a subtle shift that only someone attuned to his expressions would have noticed.

"Why are you looking at me?" he whispered softly, his voice so quiet that only she could hear it. He didn't seem bothered, but the question still made her feel a heat creeping up her neck.

Katherine's breath hitched. Her face flushed instantly. Why was he noticing her?

Her fingers froze. She wasn't expecting to be called out—especially not by him, who seemed so absorbed in his own world.

She turned to face him, her cheeks burning, and stammered, "I—I wasn't… I mean, I wasn't staring."

Aritra's eyes glinted mischievously. He leaned in slightly, and with a tone barely above a whisper, he replied, "It's okay, Katherine. I don't mind if you look. But don't let the professor see."

The casualness of his words, the ease with which he teased her, made her heart race even faster. This was ridiculous.

She quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the professor. Her face was still hot, and she could feel the telltale signs of embarrassment creeping up from her chest.

The professor continued to speak about Kirchhoff's Current Law—but Katherine couldn't hear it. Not over the sound of her own heartbeat, which seemed to drum in her ears.

She was aware of Aritra's presence beside her more acutely now. His leg brushed against hers ever so lightly, and her breath caught at the contact. What was happening to her?

A few moments passed in silence, the only sound the professor's voice and the soft scribbling of pens on paper.

Then, without warning, Aritra spoke again, his voice even softer this time. "You seem… different today. Did something happen?"

Katherine couldn't decipher his tone—was he genuinely concerned, or was he just playing with her?

She glanced at him, not meeting his eyes, but taking in his calm demeanor, his almost unreadable expression.

"No," she said quickly, trying to compose herself. "Just… a lot on my mind."

Aritra nodded slowly, not pressing her further. His attention shifted back to the professor, though there was a lingering quiet between them.

Something unspoken.

Katherine's heart began to steady, but the warmth in her cheeks lingered. She couldn't tell if she felt embarrassed or… something else. Her mind raced, but she couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him beside her, as if she were walking through a dream and trying to remember where the line between reality and fantasy blurred.

Her eyes darted to him again, quickly looking away when she caught his gaze—a silent understanding passing between them. He didn't need to say anything.

For the rest of the class, there was a strange peaceful tension in the air.

Katherine's mind wandered, and for the first time, she wasn't sure if she was paying attention to the lecture—or to the man beside her.