14 - CLASS BATTLE

SANVI'S POV ~

Okay, universe. Plot twist time.

I'm officially free. No more emotional chains, no more "Do I text him or not?" drama.

Now? Now I can talk to whoever I want, best friend whoever I vibe with, and yes-maybe even recruit a male best friend.

One heartbreak out, a whole lineup of possibilities in.

So instead of sulking like a background character, maybe it's time I grabbed a lead role... starting with these chaos goblins around me.

---

POV

It was one of those glorious free periods-no teachers, no rules, just pure teenage zoo mode.

The classroom? A full-blown jungle. Lions roaring (aka gossip queens yelling), monkeys swinging (aka the boys jumping on desks), and one corner? That was a whole arena.

The noise coming from there? Dangerous. Intense.

Like someone was gambling their soul away.

Plot twist: They weren't betting money.

They were flipping water bottles.

Welcome to 10th grade, where your entire reputation can hang on a plastic bottle's landing.

---

SANVI'S POV

Okay, what is this crowd? Are all these 6-foot human lampposts from my class? I can't see anything but elbows and egos.

But this? This chaos?

This is my moment.

I might suck at bottle flipping, but hey-drama deserves a shot.

Sanvi: "Hey, can I try once?"

Tall Guy: (doesn't even blink, just flips the bottle like he's in the Olympics)

Thud. Bottle lands perfectly.

Cheers erupt like he just won a Nobel Prize.

Sanvi: "Wow. Okay, bottle-flip king, can I get one shot at it too?"

Tall Guy: (still ignoring her like she's invisible WiFi) flips again.

Another perfect landing.

The crowd goes: "OHHHHH!!"

Sanvi (super annoyed now): "Okay, seriously? One chance. It's not like I asked for your throne."

The next flip?

He misses.

Tall Guy: (annoyed) "Wow. You couldn't see I was in the zone?

Whatever. Here. Try if you must."

Sanvi: (grabs the bottle like it's Excalibur) "Gladly."

She flips.

FAIL. The bottle tumbles.

Suddenly it's like she murdered the vibe. Everyone stares. Dead silent.

Tall Guy: (laughs with villain energy) "All that begging... for this?"

Sanvi: "It's my first time, okay? Not everyone's born with wrist magic."

Tall Guy: "Hmm. Okay. Try again. Let's see if beginner's luck is feeling generous."

---

POV ~

And bam, she's the center of the stage.

Spotlight? On.

Background music? Probably Billie Eilish with dramatic bass.

She flips again.

Perfect landing.

Whispers stop. Eyebrows rise.

Tall Guy: "Okay. Fluke. Do it three times. Then I'll consider being impressed."

Sanvi: (cracks knuckles like a Marvel character) "Bring it on."

One.

Stands.

Two.

Clean.

Three.

Chef's kiss.

The crowd? SCREAMING internally. Eyeballs popping. Mouths open.

Even the gossip girls stop mid-convo.

Tall Guy: (grinning) "Okay, okay. I admit defeat. I'm Harsh, by the way." (offers a smile that could melt glaciers)

Sanvi: "Nice to meet you. I'm Sanvi. Thanks for the bottle... and the attitude."

Harsh: "Yeah, I know. New admission. Already got half the teachers eating out of your hand."

Sanvi: "Or maybe they just appreciate vibes and intelligence."

Harsh: "Hey, I never said that. That's the class talking."

Sanvi: "Oh? And what about you, Mr. Flip-Flop? What's your opinion?"

---

POV

And that, my friends, is how Sanvi turned a water bottle flip into a full-on friendship origin story.

First day, first battle, first spark.

They swapped numbers faster than notes before an exam.

And when Sanvi opened up about her ex and the emotional baggage she'd been dragging behind her-Harsh didn't flinch.

He listened.

No judgment. No pity.

Just straight-up support.

A.k.a. your local unpaid therapist in sneakers.

Harsh characters ~

Now, Harsh... he wasn't the kind of guy you'd spot across the hallway and instantly fall head over heels for.

He was tall-awkwardly tall-the kind of tall that made him look like he'd been stretched a few inches too far by some cosmic prank. And thin too. Like really thin. Like his bones were sketched in fine ink and his skin just barely remembered to show up. From a distance, you might've mistaken him for just another lanky kid blending into the chaos of adolescence.

But then-there was something.

Something... strange.

He walked with a slight hunch, as if he was always carrying some invisible weight on his back. A shadow of burden-or maybe just years of slouching in front of a chessboard. The way his spine curved when he moved almost gave him a phantom-like silhouette. A creature half in this world, half in a world of calculations and quiet obsessions.

His skin was a soft, dusky brown-earth-toned, grounded, real.

His jawline? Sharper than most people's thoughts.

And his arms, though skinny, were a map of veins-visible, crawling like lightning beneath the surface. Not from strength, but from emptiness. A skeleton with a heartbeat.

But don't let appearances fool you.

Because when it came to chess, he was an assassin. Calculated, ruthless, unbothered. His hands moved with a kind of silent intensity, eyes locked in that "don't talk to me unless you speak in moves and checkmates" stare. On the board, he wasn't lanky, or awkward, or even human-he was a storm.

And in class?

Especially in maths-

Harsh wasn't just "good." He was that kid who solved a problem before the teacher even finished reading it out loud. The kind of genius that didn't show off but radiated through every scrawled number and smirk of understanding. His brain worked like gears in a locked vault-silent, smooth, and impossible to crack.

No, he wasn't the obvious heartthrob.

But there was a strange magnetism about him.

A quiet storm. A hidden brilliance.

A boy who bent under his own mystery...

...and still managed to stand tall.

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