31. Too Young for Forever

As we packed up our books and prepared to leave for lunch, I found out that the girls sitting in front of me and behind me were from the same hostel bay. Harini turned to me with a grin. "So... do you have any boyfriends?"

I sighed. "What's with this boyfriend question? Everyone seems more curious about who's in a relationship and who isn't, rather than anything else."

Lekha laughed. "Come on, Nila. In today's self-introduction, we'll get to know everyone's name, school, and district. Through casual chats, we'll learn about their families too. But relationship status? You can't just ask that casually—so yeah, we're curious!"

I smiled. "Well, I'm single. And I plan to stay that way for the rest of school."

Prerna raised an eyebrow. "That's surprising. You talk to boys so easily, like it's nothing. No awkward shyness, no hesitation, even in front of teachers. So why aren't you even considering a relationship?"

I shrugged. "The next four years are super important. And honestly, I don't treat talking to boys as some grand event. They're not going to bite! I talk to them the same way I talk to you. Just because a guy and a girl talk, it doesn't have to mean anything. And as for relationships—I don't want any distractions this early."

Amritha joined in, curious. "But you don't seem like a typical bookworm. So why do you think a relationship would be a distraction?"

I laughed a little. "Exactly because I'm not a nerd. I know myself. If I fall in love, I'll fall hard. I'll put so much emotion into it, it'll mess with my focus. And I'm not mature enough to juggle those feelings and academics. I don't think any serious school relationship is going to last forever either. I don't want to spend the next fifty years saying, 'Yeah, I had a guy best friend in ninth grade.'"

Pavani tilted her head. "So if you do get into a relationship, it has to be a serious one?"

"Exactly. That's why I'm not planning to get into one at all. This is the age to have fun—not to overthink everything. So…" I grinned, "are you girls planning to break some boys' hearts this year?"

They all burst out laughing. "We're all still single!" someone said. "But we're not sure we'll stay that way."

We picked up our plates and found a table together. The gossip continued, light-hearted and full of energy. The break flew by before we even realised it—we were back in class.

After lunch, it was time for self-introductions. That's when I learned something unexpected—Lekha and Pavani were cousins! No wonder they had such natural chemistry. They even finished each other's sentences without realising it.

The day was filled with those little discoveries—the kind that made the new school feel less unfamiliar, more like something I could belong to.

After the self-introductions, once everyone had settled down, our class teacher began assigning responsibilities. She looked around and then said, "I'd like to recommend Nila as the class leader. I've noticed how responsible she's been while helping with training and checking notebooks."

There was a brief silence, and then murmurs across the room.

She added, "Of course, we'll go with what the class decides. Raise your hands if you're okay with Nila being the class leader."

Most of the class agreed immediately. Apparently, I'd already left a good impression in the past few days. But a few students hesitated. Someone mumbled, "Usually boys are chosen as class leaders, and girls are chosen for vice class leader roles."

Our teacher, without missing a beat, responded firmly, "We live in a democratic country. There's no such rule about boys or girls being better at certain roles. Girls can lead too. And boys can be equally good in support roles. It's not about gender—it's about how you handle responsibility."

That settled it.

Then came the rest of the appointments. Every subject had a leader—someone to communicate between the staff and the class. These leaders would handle updates about assignments, homework, and whether the teacher would arrive on time. A blackboard and projector leader was chosen too, responsible for making sure the board was clean, the projector worked, and quiz materials were ready.

We also had two class cupboards. The cupboard leaders were responsible for keeping them tidy, making sure things didn't go missing, and helping organize shared storage.

Once all the roles were assigned, the teacher called us in front of the class. "Each of you," she said, "come up and explain your plan—how you're going to handle your role."

I was up first.

"Hi friends," I began, suddenly aware of how all eyes were on me. "Most of us are first-time hostelers, so we'll be spending a lot of time in this classroom. Today, I noticed something. We have so many books! For Social Science alone, we have four books. Science has just one, but English has three. Then we have Language and Maths… and so many notebooks on top of that."

A few students nodded, already tired from carrying everything back and forth.

"I don't think we need to carry all our books to the hostel every day. It'll just be heavy and chaotic. So, I was thinking—we can use our classroom cupboards to store our books, subject-wise."

I continued, "One cupboard can be for all the textbooks, and the other for notebooks. That way, if someone just needs their Social books, they don't have to dig through a pile of their own things. It'll be more organised and less stressful. Of course, it's not mandatory—you can still carry everything with you if you want. But this will help reduce the load, literally."

I paused, making sure everyone was with me.

"And beyond that," I added, "as class leader, I'll be helping the teachers with any coordination work, like collecting documents or handling announcements. If you ever have a doubt or problem, you can come to me, or go to the respective subject leader. Also, if you have any suggestions to make things better, feel free to talk to me. I want us to run this class like a team."

I ended with a smile. "That's all from me. Thanks for listening!"

Everyone clapped—supportive and cheerful.

Soon, Amritha and Ishaan, the cupboard leaders, walked up to me. "Hey, that's a great idea," Amritha said. "Let's get started right away."

"Thank god you brought your horror-themed stationery," she added, grinning at my quirky collection of stickers, tapes, and labels.

We all sat down together, spreading our things across one of the back benches. I started cutting label papers, while Ishaan helped stick them inside the cupboard, marking each section with bold titles: Maths, Science, Social Science, English, Tamil, French, Sanskrit, Hindi, and Notebooks.

There was something oddly satisfying about organising the space. Maybe it was the teamwork—or maybe it was the thought that, slowly, this classroom was becoming ours.

The class teacher then called Nila again. "Can you go to the auditorium and collect your class's uniforms? Each student has three sets, so it'll be a bit of a load," she said, handing over a list.

She explained that every student would receive one white set with a blazer, and two sets of brown uniforms. "You'll wear the white uniform with blazer every Monday," she continued, addressing the whole class. "Brown uniforms on Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. Thursdays are for the sports T-shirt and track pants, based on your house color. You'll receive the house uniform later, most likely during the first PT period."

Nila quickly scanned the list and looked up. "We'll need at least ten to fifteen people to carry everything," she said. "Who's ready to help?"

Around fifteen students raised their hands—mostly boys, while most of the girls were still busy in little gossip clusters. With a smile and a bit of laughter, the group headed to the auditorium. There was something cheerful about that short walk, a feeling of shared purpose as they teased each other about whose blazer would be too tight or too loose.

After collecting all the sets—neatly packed and labelled—they hauled them back, arms full and slightly sweaty from the effort. Before sitting down, Nila took a moment to check with the staff about alteration and exchange options. The staff reassured her that students could bring the uniforms to the tailoring room by the weekend if there were any size issues.

Back in class, she stood in front again. "Alright! You'll find your name tags on the packets. If your size doesn't fit, don't worry—we can get it altered. And the house T-shirts will be distributed during the first PT class," she added, placing the packets into piles.

The final bell rang, but we didn't rush out. We stayed a few more minutes, chatting and arranging, feeling like we were building something together.

It was the first time since joining that I felt truly part of something bigger than just my seat in class.