After that conversation with Aarav, Anaya felt like she had lost all hope. His words echoed in her mind long after he walked away.
"We can't become like before because now I can't unsee it."
She lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, wishing she could rewind time—go back to the moments when things were simple, when laughter came easily and his presence didn't make her heart ache. He had drawn a line between them, and she wasn't sure how to cross it.
She should give up. Move on. Forget him.
But how could she?
Aarav wasn't just someone she had feelings for—he was her anchor. Her best friend. Her safe space. And she wasn't ready to let go of that. Not yet.
So, the next morning, she took a deep breath, put on her brightest smile, and walked up to him at the lockers like nothing had changed.
"Hey, Aarav!" she chirped. "Did you finish Mr. Mehta's assignment? I swear he's trying to make our lives miserable."
Aarav looked up, clearly caught off guard. His eyes flicked to hers, unsure, guarded. But after a brief pause, he gave a small nod. "Yeah… kind of."
It wasn't the same. There was a wall between them now, invisible but heavy.
But at least he responded.
From that day forward, Anaya made a silent promise to herself. She would try. Even if he didn't. She'd show him that they didn't have to lose everything. That maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back—even if it wasn't to how things were, at least to something real.
Day by day, she kept the act going—joining in group conversations, laughing at silly jokes, throwing casual glances his way, pretending her heart wasn't constantly on the verge of breaking.
Sometimes, Aarav would smile at her joke. Other times, he'd retreat into silence.
Still, she never let the awkwardness win.
The Annual Function & The Drama Selection
By the end of the month, a new buzz had taken over the school halls—the annual function was around the corner. Students whispered in excitement during lunch breaks, planning performances, fashioning costume ideas, and guessing who would get the leads for the drama performance.
This year, the chosen play was Cinderella. A modern twist on the classic fairytale, with humor, music, and a lot of drama.
When the cast was announced a week later, shock rippled through the corridors.
Aarav had been cast as Prince Charming.
Anaya's heart stopped for a second.
It felt like fate—like the universe was handing her one last chance.
If she could become Cinderella, maybe everything would change. Maybe on stage, beneath the spotlight, surrounded by magic and make-believe, they could reconnect. Maybe, just maybe, he'd see her the way she had always seen him.
Determined, Anaya poured all her energy into the auditions. She rehearsed lines until her throat turned dry, stayed up late practicing expressions, and even borrowed a dress for the final performance audition.
But she wasn't the only one aiming for the role.
Misha, a confident and equally talented performer, had set her sights on Cinderella too. The competition was stiff—both girls delivered powerful performances that left the panel of teachers torn.
"We can't decide," the drama teacher finally declared. "So, we'll leave it to a vote. All the drama participants will cast their votes anonymously. Whoever gets the most will play Cinderella."
Excitement filled the air. Students whispered, predicted outcomes, and exchanged glances as they scribbled their choices on slips of paper and dropped them into a box.
Once all the votes were collected, the teacher began to count. The room quieted, every heartbeat in sync with the shuffle of papers.
Until a voice piped up.
"Wait! One person hasn't voted yet."
Heads turned.
It was Aarav.
He had been delayed—no one knew why—but now, all eyes were on him.
The teacher smiled. "Well, Aarav. Looks like you're the tie-breaker."
Anaya's heart pounded.
She didn't dare look at him. Her fingers trembled slightly as she clasped them together, forcing herself to breathe.
This vote... his vote... would decide more than just a role.
It might decide everything.