Chapter 2: The Showdown

Suddenly, unable to hold back, I blurted out from beside my seat, "Priya, even if you like the class topper, you can't defame me like this."

I looked at my own reflection in the window, noticing my kohl-smudged eyes and the tension in my jaw. I took a deep breath, steeling myself before turning back to Priya. "I don't know what's going on between you and him, but if you insist on this seat, I'll give it to you. Isn't that enough?"

The morning class hadn’t started, but the room was packed. Every head turned our way, the drama now centre stage.

Priya’s cheeks flushed, and she started fiddling with the gold chain around her neck, words stuck in her throat. "What rubbish are you talking?"

"What do you mean I like the class topper? He and I have been friends since childhood. You're the one who took my seat—"

Her voice trailed off abruptly, and for a moment, the tension between us thickened the air.

Priya fell silent.

Before she arrived, everyone in Class 12-A sat according to their board exam rankings—except Priya, who broke every rule. On her first day, during self-introduction, she stood boldly on stage:

"I'm Priya, and I'm childhood friends with Rohan."

Her gaze settled on me, sharp and challenging. "So, by logic, the seat you're in should be mine."

Rohan just smiled at her then. "Priya, bas karo na. Stop creating a scene."

The air crackled with anticipation, thick as the clouds before a monsoon. My classmates exchanged glances, whispering in low voices. Some slyly recorded the scene on their phones, eager for WhatsApp masala. I kept my chin high, ignoring the burning in my cheeks. In our college, a fight over a desk could become legend, retold in hostel corridors long after the dust settled.