Chapter 8: Samosa Promises

Smart people have their own ways of solving problems.

After a morning of studying, I handed Rohan the leftover milk from Saturday. "Thanks for helping me study. Here’s something to nourish yourself."

He looked at me, suddenly serious. "That day, I wasn’t helping Priya. She’s just young and stubborn—no one can force her to accept anything. I promised her parents I’d look after her…"

I interrupted, "Are Sharma’s samosas good?"

He blinked, caught off guard.

I twisted open the milk cap and said lightly, "Unfortunately, my route to college doesn’t pass by there, so I’ve never had their aloo and paneer samosas."

A breeze drifted through the library window, blowing his long fingers onto the test paper.

"I’ll bring them for you tomorrow," he promised. "As a thank-you."

I watched a crow hop along the ledge outside, pecking at crumbs. Sometimes, the world outside seemed so simple. Rohan’s confession about Priya surprised me, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I sipped my milk, letting the sweet, creamy taste distract me. It felt nice, just for a moment, to have something ordinary—like breakfast and banter—without worrying about the next rumour or jab.