Elena stormed into the room, threw her file onto the bed, and sat down—silent, fuming.
Fathima looked up from her phone. "Okay. That was a slam-the-file level entrance. What did Joel do now?"
"He opened his mouth," Elena muttered.
Aishwarya, who was journaling near the window, tilted her head. "Let me guess. Corridor drama?"
Fathima scoffed. "Let me guess again. He tried to flirt, failed, and called it comedy?"
Elena didn't respond. She just stared at the wall, arms crossed.
Fathima sat beside her. "Girl, you need to say the word and I'll accidentally spill chai on his guitar."
"I'm seriously considering it," Elena whispered, lips twitching just slightly.
Aishwarya smiled. "But why does he keep picking on you? You live in his head rent-free."
Fathima leaned closer, wide-eyed. "You know what that means, right?"
"No, and I don't want to," Elena said quickly.
"Oh, come on! He's obsessed with you. It's classic annoying-boy energy. First they mock, then they fall."
Elena rolled her eyes. "He's just bored and immature. That's it."
But her voice wasn't as sharp as usual.
Aishwarya watched her for a moment, then said softly, "Just... don't let him live in your head, El. He's not worth your peace."
Elena nodded. But she couldn't stop replaying the way Joel had looked at her just before the teacher interrupted.
Smirking.
Mocking.
But not...uninterested.