A Heart in Turmoil
I stood frozen for a moment, watching as Harsh walked past me, heading toward her—Shruti.
They stood a short distance away, chatting with ease, their voices blending into the noise of the bustling college entrance.
A strange feeling twisted inside me.
I forced myself to look away, my fingers curling around the strap of my bag as I continued toward my classroom.
As I walked, my gaze briefly met Shruti's.
Her sharp, assessing eyes locked onto mine, as if she was trying to convey something. A silent message. A warning.
But I refused to acknowledge it.
I had no time to dwell on petty things like jealousy.
Right now, I had more important things to think about—like my friendship with Harsh.
Or rather… what was left of it.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady the rapid beats of my heart.
I can't let things end like this. If I hesitate now, if I let this awkwardness consume us…
I clenched my fists.
No.
I have to do something.
I have to tell him how I feel.
Not later. Not when it's convenient. Now.
"Okay, I've decided," I mumbled under my breath. "I'm going to tell him how I feel."
The weight in my chest lifted slightly, as if saying those words aloud gave me the courage I needed.
With that resolve, I stepped into the classroom.
The moment I reached my desk and placed my bag down, a familiar voice called out.
"Hey, Shreya! Can I ask you something?"
I turned to see Tanvi, my ever-curious and mischievous friend, approaching me with an all-too-knowing smile.
Tanvi was the type who always noticed things before anyone else—even before I realized them myself.
Her dark brown eyes gleamed with excitement as she leaned closer. "Do you like that boy you're always hanging around?"
My heart skipped a beat.
"N-NO!" My voice came out louder than I intended.
I quickly looked around, making sure no one else had heard me. My face burned as I stammered, "W-Why are you asking something like that?"
Tanvi simply giggled, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder. "Oh, nothing. I was just curious, that's all."
Then, as if she had already gotten the answer she wanted, she skipped back to her desk, humming to herself.
I sat down, my hands clutching the edge of my desk.
Why does she always have to ask things like that at the worst possible time?
I sighed, pressing my forehead against my palm.
But… was she really wrong to ask?
Because the truth was—I already knew the answer.