The hostel was quiet. Most students were either asleep or pretending to study. In Room 112, however, the lights were still on. Aishwarya was braiding Fathima's hair while Elena sat on the floor, carefully organizing her embroidery threads by color.
"El," Fathima said suddenly, "can I ask something without getting stabbed by a needle?"
Elena didn't look up. "If it's about Joel, I'm not interested."
"It's not," Aishwarya said with a grin. "It's about Adam sir."
Elena froze, hand halfway to the next spool of thread. "What... about him?"
"You know exactly what," Fathima said dramatically. "Tall, serious, smells like new books and perfection. You practically hold your breath when he walks by."
"I do not," Elena muttered, but her ears were pink.
"You do," Aishwarya teased gently. "And we've seen how you suddenly sit straighter in his class. Like you're in a drama about a forbidden romance."
"Stop!" Elena threw a soft cushion at them. "It's nothing like that."
"So you admit there's something?" Fathima gasped, eyes wide with mock shock.
Elena sighed, covering her face with her hands. "Fine. I may have a tiny crush. Just a little one."
Fathima squealed. "Our quiet girl is wild! I knew it!"
"Don't be dramatic," Elena groaned. "It's just... he's different. He listens. He sees people."
Aishwarya smiled softly. "And he looks at you like you're more than just marks on a sheet."
Elena's heart skipped. She didn't respond.
Fathima raised an eyebrow. "Okay but... if Adam sir makes one wrong move, I'm replacing his chalk with toothpaste."
They all burst out laughing, the tension melting into the night air.