Chapter 3: Corners and Small Talk

I found a quiet corner to sit in.

The noise faded a little. I perched on a plastic chair near the open window, letting the evening breeze cool my face. Outside, someone’s mother was yelling for them to come home, the auto rickshaw horns blending with the distant dhol from a wedding baraat down the street.

“Even Arjun isn’t good enough for her—who does she even like?” someone nearby whispered.

Their voices were hushed but clear, gossip travelling fast like Mumbai local trains. A couple of juniors glanced at Ananya, then looked away, embarrassed.

Yeah, if even he’s not good enough, what chance do the rest of us have…

I felt even more self-conscious.

Suddenly, my own shortcomings felt ten times more glaring. The crowd, the laughter, the borrowed blazer that didn’t fit quite right—it all made me want to sink into the floor.

Soon enough, everyone bounced back from the failed confession and started toasting Ananya.

Someone started singing the chorus of a popular Arijit Singh song, changing the lyrics to tease her. The girls clustered around her, fixing her pallu, and the boys poured cola into paper cups with suspiciously strong smells.

She was the top student and campus queen, always the centre of attention.

Especially after being admitted directly to Delhi University, she became even more of a legend.

She was the secret crush of many boys—myself included.

Somewhere in the chaos, a friend of mine sighed, “Bas, yaar, she’s on another level.” I smiled ruefully, not denying it.

I hid in my corner, watching her shine, gripping my glass tighter, never daring to approach.

Too scared to confess, I just drank in silence.

Before long, Ananya came over and sat next to me.

My heart skipped several beats. She let her dupatta fall, kicked off her heels, and flexed her toes with a sigh. For a moment, she looked less like the campus queen, more like the girl next door who forgot to do her homework.

A wave of surprise and excitement washed over me.

My mouth went dry. I looked around—surely she meant to sit beside someone else?

She closed her eyes, leaning against the sofa, looking exhausted.

Her eyeliner had smudged a little at the corner, and she took off her heels, rubbing her feet with a relieved smile.

I watched her with concern, not daring to say much.

Within minutes, the girls gathered around, fixing each other’s bindis and sharing chips, while the boys argued over whose playlist was best.