Back then, spring meant passing around notebooks filled with questions. By 2007, who you were depended on scribbles from classmates in bright pages. Those weeks moved fast, packed with quick laughs plus notes passed between desks. A name, a joke, a crush - each line mattered more than grades ever did.
That day, Rishi signed last. Near the football field we stood - where he once faced Vikram head on. His eyes landed on the silver bell keychain, the one he’d handed me before, now swinging from my bag with every small move.
"So, the singer is going to the land of gold," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. For the first time, the "Loverboy" looked like he was losing his best friend. "Don't let the Burj Al Arab make you forget the scuffed benches of this school, Dhanya."
Not happening, Rishi,” I managed, voice tight. My chest tightened like before - when he stood where I couldn’t. Stay sharp. Don’t let Vikram shift his aim
"He won't," Rishi promised, his voice turning serious. "He’s too busy trying to pass his exams to bother anyone. Besides... I think you taught him that some 'juniors' are actually giants."
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Bharat spotted Adithya near the classroom door, hands already gripping the cardboard volcano. Their voices rose at once, cutting through the quiet hallway. This wasn’t the first clash over whose turn it was to hold on to the project. One claimed they’d glued the base, so it belonged to them now. The other pointed out how they had painted every slope after school yesterday. Neither stepped back. A teacher passed by but kept walking. Dust drifted in a sunbeam above their heads. Words tumbled faster, each trying to land the final one.
"Dhanya gets the base, I get the crater!" Bharat shouted, before stopping to look at me. He went quiet, shuffling his feet. "Hey... Tom is going to miss Jerry. Who am I supposed to have cute fights with now?"
I laughed, wiping away a stray tear. "I'm sure you'll find someone else to annoy, Bharat."
Laughter bubbled up, then arms tangled in a messy pile of warmth.
