The lunch bell shrieked, and suddenly everything was chaos, kids pouring out into the hall, sunlight slicing into the gloom, the usual lunchtime racket. Avyukta slipped into her corner spot like always, fussing with her tiffin, lining up her books like little soldiers. She had this way of setting things just so, as if she could build a wall out of notebooks and lunchboxes and hide behind it. Honestly, sometimes it looked like she was trying to vanish into thin air, or at least into the quiet she wore like some kind of shield.
Then there’s Aayansh. No fanfare, never is. He just drifted over and dropped down beside her, didn’t say a word. Instead, he slid a piece of chocolate her way, all casual, like the two of them did this every day (which, let’s face it, they pretty much did). The wrapper caught the sunlight and flashed, almost like it was winking at her, like it knew something she didn’t.
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