14

The air in the school was heavy with whispers, an electric buzz of speculation that refused to die down. Rumors had begun circulating that the seniors' final day was drawing near. It was only the start of the term, but the prospect of graduation had stirred emotions—nostalgia for some, and nervous anticipation for others.

Aditi walked through the corridors, her books pressed against her chest. She could hear fragments of conversations as she passed.

"Have you heard? The farewell might be next month."

"I can't believe they're leaving already. It feels like we just started!"

"Samir's batch is going to be hard to replace."

The mention of Samir made Aditi's steps falter. She shook her head quickly, scolding herself for even reacting. Whatever history she had with Samir was in the past, neatly tucked away. Yet, the idea of him leaving—of their worlds no longer overlapping—stirred something within her she couldn't quite name.

---

During lunch, Aditi joined Shruthi at their usual table in the canteen. Shruthi had a tray of samosas in front of her and was munching on one with an air of complete indifference to the chaos around them.

"Are you hearing all these rumors?" Aditi asked, sitting down.

"About the seniors?" Shruthi shrugged. "Yeah, everyone's talking about it. Apparently, the farewell's going to be a big deal this year."

Aditi raised an eyebrow. "And you're not interested?"

Shruthi smirked. "Of course, I'm interested. I just don't want to give these rumors too much power. It's not like we've been officially told anything yet."

Aditi nodded, though the whispers had already planted seeds of curiosity in her mind. What would the farewell be like? Would she even have a chance to speak to Sameer before he left?

---

The buzz only grew louder in the days that followed. By the time the principal made an official announcement during the morning assembly, the entire school seemed on edge.

"The senior farewell," the principal declared, "will be held in three weeks. It's a tradition we hold dear, a time to celebrate the achievements of our graduating batch and send them off with good wishes for the future."

Aditi felt a pang of realization as the announcement confirmed the inevitable. Sameer's time at school was officially coming to an end.

---

The juniors were tasked with organizing the farewell, a tradition that passed down every year. The responsibility brought its own set of pressures, but also a sense of excitement. Aditi was naturally appointed to one of the leading committees, given her reputation for being efficient and meticulous.

Her group's task was to plan the performances and ensure the schedule ran smoothly. Shruthi, who had somehow managed to dodge any official responsibilities, teased Aditi endlessly.

"Of course, they'd pick you," she said, plopping down beside Aditi in the library. "You're practically the poster child for 'most responsible junior.'"

Aditi rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her small smile. "It's not that big of a deal. It's just organizing a few things."

"A few things?" Shruthi snorted. "You're coordinating half the event. Don't downplay it. Anyway, are you excited?"

Aditi paused, tapping her pen against her notebook. "Excited? I don't know. It's a big responsibility. And... well, it's a little sad, isn't it? Watching the seniors leave?"

Shruthi tilted her head, studying her friend. "Is this about Samir?"

Aditi's head shot up. "What? No! Why would it be about him?"

Shruthi gave her a knowing look but didn't press further. "Whatever you say. Just remember to enjoy the process, okay? It's not every day we get to plan something like this."

---

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Aditi threw herself into her work, coordinating rehearsals, designing schedules, and double-checking every detail. She found solace in the chaos, grateful for the distraction it provided.

Samir, meanwhile, seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. She caught glimpses of him in the corridors, his easy smile lighting up his face as he joked with his friends. Sometimes, their eyes would meet, and Aditi would quickly look away, pretending to be engrossed in her work.

But the rumors didn't stop there.

"Do you think Samir's going to say something at the farewell?" someone asked during a group meeting.

"Like what?" another replied.

"Who knows? Maybe he has a secret crush. Or maybe he's just going to leave without a word. Typical senior drama."

Aditi tried to ignore the whispers, but they followed her wherever she went. She told herself it didn't matter. Samir's farewell was just another event, another task to complete. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was coming.

---

One afternoon, as Aditi was heading to the rehearsal hall, she heard voices coming from inside.

" think I should tell her?" Samir said to his friends.

"What's the point?" one of his friends voice replied. "She has enough on her plate. And you're leaving soon anyway , you don't even know when you could return from abroad. Then why do you want to put her in this situation"

Aditi froze, her heart pounding. Was he talking about her?

Before she could gather the courage to peek inside, the door opened, and Samir stepped out. He stopped short when he saw her, his expression unreadable.

"Hey," he said, his voice casual, though there was a tension in his eyes.

"Hey," she replied, gripping her notebook tightly.

There was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken words. Then Samir smiled, a soft, almost wistful smile, and walked past her without another word.

---

As the day of the farewell approached, the atmosphere at school grew more emotional. The seniors were trying to savor their final days, and the juniors were determined to make the event unforgettable.

Aditi watched it all unfold with a mix of pride and melancholy. She had done her part, and everything was falling into place. But as she looked at the calendar, counting down the days until the farewell, she couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping away faster than she was ready for.

Whatever was going to happen, she told herself, would happen. For now, all she could do was focus on the present—and hope that she was ready for whatever came next.