fourth episode

The club room was louder than usual the next afternoon. Posters were half falling off the walls, juniors were arguing over markers, and the teacher-in-charge looked stressed enough to retire. Maya stepped inside with her notebook pressed to her chest, her eyes scanning instinctively for one person.

Aryan.

He stood near the window, sunlight catching the edges of his glasses as he rearranged charts with that easy, relaxed smile he always wore. He wasn’t doing anything extraordinary—just talking, laughing, giving instructions—but Maya felt her breath hitch all the same. Two years of crushing on him, and she still couldn’t act normal.

Her friend nudged her. “Your senior looks extra good today.”

Maya glared but didn’t deny it. She knew she was staring too long, but her heart didn’t care.

The meeting began with Aryan at the front, clipboard in hand. He looked like he belonged there—confident, dependable, the kind of person everyone naturally followed.

“We’ll be organizing the inter-school cultural day,” he announced. “Teams will be assigned based on what each of you is good at.”

Maya tried not to look too hopeful, but she couldn’t help wishing she’d get placed in his group. It wasn’t just because of her crush; she genuinely admired how he handled everything with calm enthusiasm.

Aryan read through the list, assigning students to various roles. Maya waited, nerves buzzing.

“Maya,” he called, glancing up briefly.

Her stomach flipped.

“You’re in logistics. You’ll work with… Rishav.”

Her smile froze. She tried not to look disappointed, but her friends exchanged looks that screamed, Of course she wanted Aryan’s team.

Across the room, Rishav looked up briefly, gave a small nod, and went back to his notebook. No greeting, no expression—not that it mattered. Her mind was already wandering back to Aryan, who was now joking with a junior as he taped a chart to the wall.

After the meeting, Maya walked to the logistics table where Rishav was already packing up. She cleared her throat. “So… logistics.”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “We need the list of participating schools by Friday.”

She nodded politely, but her eyes flicked back to Aryan, who was demonstrating something to the club members with energetic hand gestures. She wasn’t even listening fully to Rishav’s instructions—she caught the important parts, but her attention kept drifting.

“I’ll draft the message to coordinators,” she said automatically.

“Good,” he replied, closing his notebook.

But Maya had already turned slightly, watching Aryan gather the team with that effortless charisma. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling a little.

Later, on her walk home, her mind was nowhere near logistics or Rishav. Instead, every thought kept looping back to Aryan—how his sleeves were rolled up, how he said her name during the meeting, how he somehow made a boring club task look fun.

Two whole years, and she still felt the same.

Maybe it was silly.

Maybe it was hopeless.

But one thing was clear:

Aryan was the only one taking up space in her mind.

And she wasn’t ready for anything—or anyone—to change that.

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