Chapter 4: Truth, Dares, and Bruised Hearts

By seventh standard, Ishika had quietly bloomed.

Her bond with Sarvadnya, once faint and polite, had deepened — thanks to Deepali, who unknowingly bridged their friendship. Lunch breaks became moments of shared jokes. Art classes turned into laughter-filled memories. Ishika didn't realize when it happened — when the flutter in her chest started showing up only when he smiled, or when he praised her drawing.

She didn't have a name for it.Just… a feeling. New. Strange. Warm.

But life gave her no time to define it.

Her school, Vishwa Nirmala Vidya Mandir, was different. It believed in students more than syllabi — saw potential beyond grades. And when the principal noticed Ishika's skill in sketching and crafting, he did something no other school would have dared:

He made her the Art & Craft Lecturer.

A seventh standard girl — now teaching first graders, her classmates, even tenth standard seniors. At first, Ishika was nervous. But soon, the chalk, the colors, and the appreciation turned into confidence. Her hands felt alive again. Her voice found purpose. And most importantly… she felt seen.

Decorations. Wall charts. Competition posters. Her creativity was everywhere.

And so, unknowingly, her world expanded. Seniors, juniors — even those who once ignored her now came asking for her help. Somewhere in that whirlwind of paper, glue, and smiles, she felt like she belonged.

Then came Sarvadnya's birthday.

Ishika and Deepali had missed it. Not on purpose — just one of those days when time slipped away. To make up for it, they both made handmade greeting cards. After school, the two waited outside to give them to him.

They laughed. He smiled. But after Ishika stepped away, Deepali stayed behind, talking to him privately. Ishika didn't think much of it. Maybe just a quick birthday chat.

She was wrong.

A week later, during their sports lecture, someone suggested they play Truth or Dare. It was harmless fun — just a way to escape the routine. Ishika's younger brother was there too, along with Deepali's brother Anand, who had a quiet liking for Ishika. And of course… Suryakant.

Laughter filled the garden.

"Truth or Dare?""Truth," Ishika said shyly.

And that was it.The question came — fast, sharp, and impossible to dodge.

"Do you like someone?"

She hesitated. Her cheeks turned red. But everyone was watching. Smiling. Teasing. Pressuring. So, with her heart thudding and words trembling, she said…

"Sarvadnya."

That single word — one small truth — burst like fireworks in the air. Everyone gasped, laughed, or shouted in surprise. Ishika gave a nervous smile, trying to pretend it was no big deal.

But it was. It would become one.

That very day, during lunch, Sarvadnya came and sat beside her.

Ishika's heart raced.

But before she could say a word, his voice dropped low — cold, sharp.

"Don't talk to me. This… it's too complicated."

And just like that, he stood and left.

No explanation. No kindness. Just rejection, like a curtain pulled over a stage mid-scene.

Ishika sat still, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Her fingers clenched the edge of her lunchbox, but even the food tasted distant now.

Back home, things only worsened.

Her younger brother — usually playful and protective — was different that evening. Angry. Annoyed. Suspicious.

"What did you do at school today?""Why were you talking about boys?""I'll tell Mom."

Ishika stared at him in disbelief. Her eyes welled up, but she said nothing. Not because she was guilty — but because his words came from a place that stung deeper than truth ever could.

Her brother didn't know everything.He didn't know she felt tricked.He didn't know Deepali had told Sarvadnya about the game before lunch.

He didn't know she had trusted her friends with her little heart — and they had dropped it like a careless secret.

And now, her own brother — the one person she thought would at least understand — was blaming her.

That night, Ishika cried.

Not because a boy rejected her.Not because her friends betrayed her.But because for the first time, she had dared to feel something pure and honest — and it was mocked. Thrown back. Used against her.

She remembered the promise:"We'll never tell anyone."

They did.

She remembered the feeling:A moment of connection.

It shattered.

And now, even home didn't feel safe.