I pushed open the classroom door and slid into my usual spot at the back. Ayush was already there, flipping through his notebook with that half-smile he always had when he was thinking of some joke.
"Bro, you think Tanmay actually slept last night or just faked it like a pro?" Aryan whispered from across the aisle, nudging Tanmay.
Tanmay shrugged, grinning. "Sleep is overrated, man. I survive on chaos and caffeine."
I chuckled softly. "Caffeine? You're seventeen, dude. That's dangerous territory."
Puneet groaned, rolling his eyes. "You sound like a teacher now, Honey. Chill."
I shrugged, leaning back. "Just stating facts."
Kartikey, as usual, was already scribbling in his notebook, oblivious to our noise. "You guys never change, huh?" he muttered without looking up.
"Change is boring," I said quietly, earning a small snicker from Ayush.
"Yeah, boring… unless it involves teasing someone," Tanmay added with a smirk, flicking a pen cap across the desk at Aryan.
Aryan caught it and tossed it back. "Nice throw. Too bad you missed my epic one last week."
I leaned over to Ayush, whispering, "Do they ever stop?"
He shrugged, grinning. "Nah… that's the fun part of mornings. You get a warm-up for the chaos ahead."
Even with all the jokes, I felt a strange comfort in the noise. I could join in lightly, toss a remark, or just observe—it didn't matter. Everyone had their rhythm, and I had mine, quietly blending in.
The bell hadn't rung yet, but already the classroom felt alive. Whispers, small bursts of laughter, and the gentle scratching of pencils across paper filled the room. I opened my sketchbook briefly, letting my pencil trace a few lines, not for schoolwork, but just to capture the little gestures around me—the tilt of a head, a smirk, someone tapping their foot impatiently.
"Hey, Honey," Puneet whispered, nodding at my notebook. "Still drawing monsters or did you upgrade to superheroes?"
I smiled faintly. "Superheroes now… maybe villains too. Depends on the mood."
"Careful," Aryan said, grinning. "One day your villains might take over the class."
I shook my head, quietly amused. "They'd better be nice to me, then."
The laughter continued, light and chaotic, but even in the middle of it all, I kept my eyes alert, noting little details—the way someone's pen hovered before writing, a nervous glance, the small interactions that might seem meaningless but told stories if you looked closely enough.
The morning wasn't about lessons yet—it was about warmth, rhythm, and chaos. And I was right in the middle of it, quietly noticing, occasionally teasing back, always aware of the world around me.
:Lunch drift
The morning classes had ended almost without me noticing. Chemistry formulas, Physics equations, and the quiet scribbles of notes had blended into the background. Now, the soft scrape of chairs and the faint rustle of lunchboxes signaled the next part of the day.I slid into my usual spot at the back with Ayush, unpacking my tiffin quietly. The room was half-empty already—most students had dashed out to the canteen or the courtyard.
"Man, the corridors look like a battlefield at lunch," Ayush muttered, tearing open his sandwich.
I smirked. "People running everywhere, shouting like it's some kind of competition."
Tanmay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Survival of the fastest. You either move or get squished."
Aryan laughed, nudging Tanmay. "Yeah, but don't act like you're the Flash, bro. You'd trip before the first step."
Puneet shook his head, nibbling on chips. "Honestly, I don't get why anyone bothers leaving. Grab food, sit down, done. Easy."
Kartikey glanced up from his notebook. "Some people like chaos. Everyone has their thing."
I leaned over quietly. "True… chaos isn't always fun."
Uday, fiddling with his sandwich, grinned. "Some chaos is entertaining, though. Watching Puneet nearly drop his lunch? Priceless."
"Hey! That was one time!" Puneet protested, waving a chip in the air.
"Exactly," Aryan said, smirking. "One time… in Physics last week… you nearly knocked over the lab kit. Legendary."
I chuckled softly, taking a bite. The room felt quieter now that most had left, but the few of us left—Ayush, Tanmay, Aryan, Puneet, Kartikey, Uday—made it feel alive.
That's when I noticed her—Priyanshi. She sat alone at the far corner, her notebook open, pencil moving steadily. She didn't glance around, didn't laugh, didn't react to anything. Just quiet, focused, separate.
I tilted my head, curious. Not interacting—just noticing.
"Hey, Honey," Tanmay whispered, nudging me. "You spacing out again? What's with the stare?"
I shook my head lightly. "Nothing… just observing."
Ayush chuckled. "Of course. You notice everything. Even quiet ones hiding in corners."
I smiled faintly, keeping my attention on the jokes of my friends while my eyes occasionally flicked to Priyanshi. For now, she was just part of the background, a calm note against the chaos.
Lunch passed with small jokes, teasing Kartikey, laughing at Aryan's exaggerations, nudging Uday, and exchanging tiny whispers with Ayush. Everything was casual, nothing serious, but every gesture, laugh, and glance seemed to tell its own story.
And in that quiet corner, Priyanshi sketched her own world, unaware of the chatter around her. I didn't know it yet, but noticing her would slowly become a thread I couldn't...
The bell had rung, lunch was fading behind us, and the classroom felt smaller, quieter—like the noise had been drained away, leaving a space where small movements mattered more. That's when I saw her again—Priyanshi, sitting alone in her corner, pencil moving across the page, careful, precise, avoiding attention.
It hit me immediately. This… this was me, years ago. Ninth grade Honey—the one who trembled inside his own head, heart racing at every glance, stomach twisting with anxiety at even the smallest interaction. I remembered how the world had seemed heavy, every whisper a threat, every stare a warning. I had spent months—and then years—learning how to untangle that mess, learning to move through school without letting fear rule me. By the middle of +1, it all felt normal; the panic, the overthinking… it had faded like smoke, leaving only the cautious observer I had become.
And now, seeing Priyanshi… I recognized that old weight in her. The careful avoidance, the subtle anxiety, the way her shoulders hunched just a little while keeping her eyes down. I wanted to reach out, to say something simple, to let her know she wasn't completely alone—but I didn't. Recognition was enough for now.
My mind started its usual spiral of "what-ifs," but quieter this time, tempered by experience:
Does she notice anyone watching her? Does she feel trapped like I did? What if she thinks I'm… too much?
I shook my head, forcing my focus back to my own notebook. My pencil scribbled lightly across the page, almost absent-mindedly, while I stole glances at her. Unlike before, there wasn't panic in my chest. Just… a faint, familiar empathy.
Ayush nudged me quietly. "Hey… you spacing out again?"
"Yeah… just thinking," I murmured, smiling faintly.
He shrugged and went back to his own doodles, unaware of the recognition stirring inside me. And for a brief moment, I allowed myself to admit that even years later, seeing a glimpse of my past in someone else was… oddly comforting.
Priyanshi remained in her corner, untouched by the chaos around her, quietly existing in her own world. And I realized: some patterns never fully disappear. They just wait for a reflection to remind you they were once there.