Chapter 4: Gossip and Goodbyes

The next time I saw Arjun was at the class farewell party.

Partings always stir up emotions.

Farewell parties—cheap samosas, garish balloons, and the sound of old Bollywood hits from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. And my relentless pursuit of Arjun made me something of a joke.

"Ananya, are you still planning to confess to the topper?"

Someone started, and the others quickly joined in.

"He rejected you again, right?"

"How many times is it now?"

"Why don’t you just agree to her? She’s a rich girl, fair-skinned and beautiful."

"Yeah, if you two got together, you’d struggle a few years less."

"……"

It was one thing for classmates to tease, but the comments chimed in too.

[These people should stop talking—the hero finally mustered up some courage and now they’re stirring things up.]

[Exactly, the hero’s face is turning green.]

[He’s working so hard just to catch up with Ananya, to be worthy of her.]

[Arrey, his love is so humble—I really ship this.]

[……]

As if me shamelessly confessing nine times, being laughed at by the whole class, was something to be proud of.

My cheeks burned. I could feel the aunties in my colony gossiping already: "Sharma-ji’s bitiya is running after boys now? Achha, what will people say when rishta time comes?" To be honest, Ananya, you should consider me instead.

"Topper, what do you think? If I chase her, you wouldn’t mind, right?"

The class prefect joked, but his eyes were serious.

He wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving a faint stain of chutney. "Whatever," Arjun replied coldly, not even glancing at me.

The looks from everyone turned to sympathy and mockery, and someone said—

"So what if her family’s rich? Isn’t she just a simp?"

"He doesn’t like her, and she still chases after him—so embarrassing."

"I even saw her dad’s interview on NDTV. If he knew his daughter was like this at school, would he still be able to laugh?"

[That’s harsh. Why doesn’t the hero step in to help?]

Someone in the comments questioned.

But I knew, Arjun wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t risk his own pride, not even to save mine. Maybe that’s the real tragedy.