Hi, my little chocho pies ik i do delay in updating chapter and i am very sorry for this "last baar maaf krdo😭🤓" and i was not updating cause my Wattpad was not working so MAAF KRDO MUJHE PLEASE! 😭
Happy reading💋🧿
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Meanwhile Vihaan stood frozen on his place thinking.
do I know her? How?
The noise of the corridor dimmed into silence, as if the world had stopped moving for a moment-and maybe it had, at least in my mind. The name had left my lips before I could even think. Naira. It felt familiar. Too familiar. Like I'd known it long before today. But I barely knew her-just a face I'd caught in glimpses, always quiet, always on the edges of things.
So why did saying her name feel like I had spoken it before?
I blinked slowly, my thoughts a tangled mess I couldn't make sense of. Then, like an abrupt slap back to reality, a gasp echoed across the storeroom.
"My Mishti!" Vikram's voice rang out dramatically as he burst into the room, holding his chest like he was having a heart attack.
"Bata mujhe, Vihaan! tune meri Mishti ko kuch bola-"
("Tell me, Vihaan! Did you say something to her? My Mishti? And-")
he jabbed a finger at me like I'd committed a crime, "- Khabar daar jo tune meri Mishti ka naam diya uss TAKLU principal! ko vo aadmi nhi jaanwar hai!"
("-don't you dare say my Mishti name to that Blad principal! he is not human he is ANIMAL!")
Vihaan stared at him, flat and unamused.
Here we go again.
Vikram had been obsessed with Mishti since... well, forever. He acted like she was some mythological figure-too pure for this world and destined to be his. And now, she was caught bunking class with a friend, and Vihaan had dared, dared, to mention it aloud. His overreaction was expected at this point.
Before he could respond to his emotional meltdown, the door to the storeroom opened with a sharp creak. The temperature in the room dropped three degrees as soon as he entered.
"Vihaan," the principal's voice was as sharp as ever, slicing through the chaos. He looked between me and Vikram with an unimpressed stare. "Who was screaming in the corridor? And why is Vikram is here?"
Vikram immediately straightened like a soldier caught sneaking snacks during drills. I, on the other hand, stood tall and calm.
"Two girls were bunking class, sir," I said clearly. " Mishti and ...N.naira"
There was a flicker in his expression like he already knows that name very well
"Bring them to my office," he ordered. "Now."
And then he was gone, just like that. The door shut behind him with a final thud. Silence returned-for a moment.
Then Vikram grabbed my arm like he just delivered a death sentence.
"Tere paas dil nhi hai!" (" You have no heart!") he cried, voice laced with mock devastation. "My Mishti- He shook his head with exaggerated grief. "You've ruined everything. This is betrayal. Betrayal!"
Vihaan raised an eyebrow. "Which class are they in?"
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why do you need to know that?"
Vihaan didn't reply. he wasn't even thinking about Mishti anymore.
Because the moment he turned to leave the storeroom, something on the floor caught my eye-a small glint, barely visible.
An anklet.
Silver, delicate, and definitely not supposed to be here.
Beside it, an ID card. he picked them both up. His breath caught.
Naira.
Her photo stared back at me from the ID card-unsmiling, soft eyes, a calm expression. There was something in her gaze that made my chest twist. I couldn't look away. My heart began to race, slow but steady like the deep beat of a drum, echoing in my chest. The world went still again, just like it had when I'd first said her name.
Her eyes in the picture weren't even looking at me, yet I felt seen.
Vihaan swallowed hard, unable to blink. It was ridiculous-how could a photo make me feel like this? He didn't even know her properly. But something about her... it reached places inside him and he didn't know were even there.
"Why are you not blinking?" Vikram's voice interrupted, confusion laced in his tone as he peered over my shoulder.
I quickly slipped the anklet into my trouser pocket and kept the ID card in hand.
"Class 11E," I said under my breath, having read it on the card.
Vikram tilted his head. "What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Vihaan didn't want to explain anything to him-not when he didn't even understand what was happening to him. The feeling in his chest was too strange, too heavy. He needed a moment to breathe. Maybe alone.
Without saying anything more, he turned and headed toward his own class, the ID card still in my hand, and the anklet burning against my heart from inside my pocket.
Vihaan stepped into the classroom, the quiet somehow louder than the chaos outside. There was no teacher, just scattered voices and the hum of students packing their bags, preparing to leave. Last period had ended early-something about a staff meeting. Good. I needed the silence.
He made my way to my desk at the back, dropped my bag beside the chair, and sat down heavily. My fingers brushed against the anklet in my pocket again, the metal cool against my skin. It was strange how something so small could feel like it carried so much weight. As if it belonged to someone who was more than just a girl caught bunking class.
Naira.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling, the ID card still in my hand. Her name was written in neat, clean letters. Class 11E. Her photo still stared back at me, quiet and composed. Unbothered. Innocent.
That face. There was something about it.
Before he could dive deeper into that feeling again, a thud shook his desk as Vikram landed in the seat beside him with all the grace of a Bollywood hero making an entry.
"That's like my brother!" he grinned, patting my back as if I'd just scored the winning goal in a match. "I knew you wouldn't snitch on her. I knew you had it in you! My Mishti is safe!"
I didn't respond.
Because, in truth, he hadn't done it for Mishti.
he didn't even know why he done it.
he wants to do it.
The principal had told him to bring them to his office. He didn't. He just walked away.
Because of one name.
One girl.
One face.
that remind him of someone just not SPECIAL but more than that.
Vikram kept talking, but he only heard half of it. Something about "Mishti's beautiful future being protected" and how he was "forever in my debt" and "should name his first child after me." I didn't have the energy to tell him to stop.
Finally, Vikram looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "So? You gonna tell the blad principal tomorrow?"
I nodded once, eyes still on the ID card. "Yeah. School's almost over anyway."
he doesn't want to do that, and he don't know the reason why
Vikram leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "I knew it. You're the best. Ruthless to the world, soft for your friends."
he didn't say anything to that either.
Because he wasn't feeling soft. he wasn't even thinking about what I'd done for Vikram or Mishti. His mind was still stuck on a girl who didn't speak a word to HIM. Who probably didn't even know he existed. Who left behind an anklet and a name that somehow wouldn't leave his chest, his mind, his veins and most important his HEART.
I slid the ID card into my bag and placed a hand over my pocket, where the anklet still sat quietly.
Meanwhile him..
I'd return it to her tomorrow.
I don't want to but it's not mine.
But I want it.
Because for some reason, the thought of her waiting for something that belonged to her... didn't sit right with me.
And maybe, just maybe, I needed to see her again.
Just as I slid the ID card into my bag and leaned back, the head girl was coming near me with smile.
"Vihaan..." came a sugary voice.
I didn't look up. I didn't need to. The voice was unmistakable-Head Girl, Ahaana. Overachiever. Always perfect. Always too interested in my notebooks. Or maybe just me.
She walked to my desk with a smile too sweet to be casual. "Ye tumhare maths notes amazing hote hain. Bas ek chhota sa question samajh nahi aaya. Please help kar do na?"
("Your math notes are amazing. Just one small question I didn't understand. Please help me out?.")
I glanced at the open page she'd placed on my desk. Simple integration.
"Yahan limits apply karo. Aur phir simplify," I said flatly, pointing at the steps.
("Apply limits here. And then simplify.")
But she didn't move. "Mujhe thoda sa aur detail mein samjha do na... tumse better koi explain hi nahi karta."
("Just explain a little more in detail... no one explains better than you.")
Before I could say another word, Vikram-who was now sprawled beside me, very much invested-leaned forward with a loud ahem.
"Madam," he started, his tone already dripping sarcasm, "Vihaan ka naam Head Boy hai, Head Tutor nahi."
("The name of Vihaan is Head Boy, not Head Tutor.")
Ahaana blinked, trying to ignore him. "Main bas-"
("I just-")
But he cut her off with full drama. "Bas kya? Bas ye ki har do din mein tumhe ek naya question confuse kar deta hai, aur vo confusion seedha Vihaan ke paas le aata hai?" He gasped mockingly. "Waah. Kya coincidence hai!"
("Is that it? Just that every two days a new question confuses you, and that confusion directly brings you to Vihaan?")
I didn't look up. Didn't need to. Vikram was already on a roll.
"Waise bhi, aise cute expression banake question poochhna band karo. Calculator se zyada expressions use kar leti ho tum!" he added with a smirk.
("Wow too, stop asking questions with such cute expressions. You use more expressions than calculators!")
Ahaana flushed slightly. "Mujhe genuinely samajhna tha-"
("I had to understand genuinely-")
"Genuinely toh log tuition join karte hain," ("Genuinely, people join tuition,") Vikram said, eyes wide with mock innocence. "Ye Vihaan ki bench pe Google search chalane ka kya hi matlab?" ("What is the point of running a Google search on Vihaan's bench?")
She narrowed her eyes now, clearly annoyed. "You're so rude, Vikram."
"And you're so obvious," he shot back with a grin. "Tumse zyada toh Mishti maths mein serious hai." ("Mishti is more serious in maths than you.")
I finally glanced at Vikram, eyebrow raised, but he only shrugged like he was doing a public service.
Ahaana huffed, snatched her notebook back, and stormed off.
Vikram turned to me, arms crossed. "Yaar, seriously-har doosri ladki tumhare notebook ke bahaane tumhe ghoorti hai. Matlab itna kya alag likha hota hai tumhare notes mein? Dil?"
("Dude, seriously-every other girl keeps staring at you because of your notebook. I mean, what's so special written in your notes? Heart?") I didn't answer.
Because I wasn't thinking about Ahaana.
I was still thinking about a girl who didn't say a word to me. A girl who dropped her anklet, her ID, and somehow left behind a thought I couldn't shake.
Vikram stretched lazily. "Bhai, de na apni chemistry ki book. Kal practical hai, aur mujhe toh syllabus bhi yaad nahi." ("Brother, please lend me your chemistry book. There is a practical tomorrow, and I don't even remember the syllabus.")
I sighed, reaching into my bag. As I pulled out the thick chemistry textbook, something else slipped and landed on the desk.
A small, laminated card.
Naira's ID.
Before I could react, a manicured hand shot forward and snatched it up.
"Oh-ye kya hai?" ("Oh-what is it?")
Ahaana.
I looked up to see her turning the ID card between her fingers, her eyes narrowing at the name. "Naira... Kaun hai ye?" ("Naira... Who is this?") Her voice was too casual to be genuine. "Aur ye tumhare paas kya kar rahi hai?" ("And what is she doing to you?")
I was about to reply, but Vikram shot forward like a missile, his moment of glory arriving at last.
"Haan haan, bas yehi toh sawaal hai, Ahaana madam!" ("Yes, that's the question, Ahana, ma'am!") He clutched his chest dramatically. "Aur is sawaal ka jawaab sunne ki himmat hai?" ("And dare you hear the answer to this question?")
Ahaana frowned. "Mujhe bas-"
"Bas puch rahi thi?" Vikram gasped, shaking his head. "Arre, mujhe toh lagta tha ki sirf CBSE board ke exams tough hote hain, par yeh ladki ke liye competition aur bhi dangerous hai! Matlab, Vihaan ek ID card bhi nahi gira sakta bina full investigation shuru hone ke!"bina full investigation shuru hone ke!" ("I used to think that only CBSE board exams are tough, but this competition for the girl is even more dangerous! I mean, Vihaan can't even drop an ID card without a full investigation starting!")
Ahaana's expression soured, but she still held onto the ID card.
Vikram smirked. "Chal, tujhe asli sach bata hi deta hoon. Ready hai?" ("Alright, let me tell you the real truth. Are you ready?")
Ahaana folded her arms. "Vikram,"
"Shh!" Vikram pressed a finger to his lips. "Breaking news!" He pointed at the ID card. "Naira... is Vihaan ki girlfriend."
Silence.
Ahaana blinked. "Kya?"
"Bas! Ab toh confirm ho gaya," ("That's it! Now it's confirmed.") Vikram declared, smacking the desk. "Vihaan Malhotra ki ek ladki se attachment ho gayi hai! Aur vo ladki hai Naira! Aur sun, sirf girlfriend nahi, future wife bhi." ("Vihaan Malhotra has gotten attached to a girl! And that girl is Naira! And listen, not just a girlfriend, but also a future wife.")
I turned to him sharply. "Vikram."
He ignored me, grinning as he leaned closer to Ahaana. "Tu soch rahi hogi na, 'Arre, Vihaan toh aisa nahi hai! Yeh kab hua? Kaise hua?'"
("You must be thinking, 'Oh, Vihaan, that's not the case! When did it happen? How did it happen?'")
He exhaled dramatically. "Lekin pyaar na, bas ho jaata hai. Koi reason nahi hota." ("But love, it just happens. There is no reason.")
Ahaana's jaw clenched. "Bakwas band kar." ("Stop the nonsense.")
"Bakwas?" ("nonsense.") Vikram gasped, eyes widening. "Bhai, tu sun raha hai? Ladki humse jealous ho rahi hai!" ("Bro, are you listening? The girl is getting jealous of us!")
He turned back to Ahaana. "Sunn, jealousy aur insecurity healthy nahi hoti. Agar tumhe Vihaan se seekhna hai toh Google aur YouTube pe jao. Yeh school padhai ke liye hai, educational tuition nahi jo tu baar baar Vihaan se extra coaching lene aa jati hai."
("Listen, jealousy and insecurity are not healthy. If you want to learn from Vihaan, then go to Google and YouTube. This is for school studies, not educational tuition for which you keep coming to Vihaan for extra coaching.")
Ahaana's face turned an unmistakable shade of red.
Vikram took full advantage, smoothly plucking the ID card from her hand before she could protest. He spun it between his fingers before handing it to me with a smirk.
"Le bhai, apni amanat. Apni hone wali biwi ka khayal rakhna."
("Brother, your trust. Take care of your future wife.")
Ahaana huffed angrily, grabbed her pen, and stormed off without another word, her ponytail swishing aggressively behind her.
The moment she left, Vikram burst into laughter. "Bhai, kya reaction tha! Maza aa gaya!"
("Brother, what a reaction! It was so much fun!")
I rolled my eyes and slipped Naira's ID into my pocket. But deep inside, there was one thought circling my mind.
Why didn't I deny it?
The final bell rang, echoing through the corridor like a wave of release. Students flooded out of classrooms like water-breasting through a dam, laughter and footsteps making into chaos. I slung my bag over one shoulder, still feeling the sight weight of the anklet in my pocket.
Just as we stepped out of the Classroom, a teacher approached us- Mrs. Sharma, holding a pile of notebooks in her arm.
"Vihaan, beta, can you please place these in the Star from upstairs?" She asked, "top floor staff room desk. It's urgent, and I have to rush to the meeting."
I gave a slight node. "Sure, ma'am."
She handed me the pile, thank me and hurried away. Vikram, of course, ground drama technically.
"Top floor? Kya punishment Hai yeh? Staff room to Everest PE Hai,"
He whined, but followed me anyway.
We climbed a stairs slowly, the sound of our shoes in going against the emptying corridor. Most of the school had cleared out; the hush felt unfamiliar, almost cinematic.
We reached the top floor, footsteps echoing off the empty walls. The halls were mostly deserted now—just a few students scattered here and there. It felt… quieter than usual.
As we turned the corner near the staffroom, I noticed them.
Naira and Mishti.
They stepped out of the washroom quietly, looking around like they were trying not to get caught. Mishti adjusted her scarf, while Naira tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the movement so delicate it could’ve belonged to a dream.
My steps slowed. My breath caught.
Because just for a shorter then second—just one—our eyes met.
Even if she didn’t realize it.
Even if she didn’t really see me.
I did.
And something shifted in my chest.
My mind flashed back—like a film reel, fast and loud—to the moment she had fallen into my arms. Bridal style. Her breath shallow. Her eyes wide. Her silence louder than any scream.
Those same eyes.
I knew them.
I had felt them before I even fully saw her.
It was strange—unsettling. I’d held dozens of students accountable, reported friends for breaking rules, and never once felt conflicted. Never paused.
But now?
I didn’t even move.
Beside me, Vikram noticed I’d gone still, but this time, he didn’t tease.
He didn’t say “bhabhi.”
Didn’t call her my future wife or give one of his over-the-top dialogues.
Maybe because of what had just happened with Ahaana downstairs. Maybe because, for once, even he realized something had changed in the air.
He just stood there, beside me, quietly—for once respecting a silence I didn’t ask for.
The girls kept walking down the corridor. Mishti pulled Naira into a soft giggle, whispering something I couldn’t hear. Naira’s smile lingered, then disappeared as quickly as it had come.
And somehow… it stayed with me.
I looked down at the notebook in my hand, then back at her disappearing figure.
Vikram finally broke the silence, softer this time.
“Staffroom, bro?”
I nodded.
But even as we stepped toward the staffroom door, I couldn’t help it—my fingers brushed over the anklet in my pocket.
Still there.
Still hers.
And maybe, just maybe, it was still pulling me.
We dropped the notebooks off in the staffroom without a word. The staffroom was as empty as the hallway—half the school had cleared out by now. Vikram didn’t throw any jokes or ask questions. He just walked beside me, quiet. That was rare for him.
I think he knew something was going on.
We walked past the school gates, our shoes crunching against gravel, the sun dipping low on the horizon. Orange light stretched across the road ahead like a path someone painted just for the two of us.
When we reached the bus station, the first bus was already waiting—going straight towards Vikram’s neighborhood.
He clapped my shoulder. “Chal, bhai. Milte hain kal.”
I gave him a small nod as he got onto the bus, turning to flash a smirk from the window before it started moving.
And just like that.
Standing there, hands in my pockets, fingers brushing over a single anklet that didn’t belong to me.
Waiting.
But I didn’t know for what.
I think for bus
YES!
MEANWHILE NAIRA POV
Bhaag!” Mishti whispered, grabbing my hand as we dashed down the last flight of stairs, skirts flying behind us. We had stayed too long upstairs. Way too long. If a teacher caught us now, we’d be doomed.
We reached our class breathless. Thankfully, no one was there. Bags still untouched. I slung mine over my shoulder while Mishti chugged half her bottle of water.
“Yaar,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Aaj toh mazaa aa gaya. Woh storeroom thrill, bunking... all filmi!” She giggled, nudging me.
I smiled, silently listening as we exited the building.
Then she turned to me suddenly. “But, listen... tu toh gaya. Matlab, Vihaan?” Her eyes widened dramatically. “Head boy Vihaan? Jo ek rule bhi nahi todta? Tu uske baahon mein gir gayi!”
I looked at her, flustered. “Itna bhi—”
“Nahi nahi! Chup. Tu blush kar rahi hai.” She gasped like she’d discovered a scandal. “You fell for him, didn’t you?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the heat rising to my cheeks.
Before she could tease more, Mishti’s smart watch buzzed. One glance and she panicked. “Oh no! Family dinner! I totally forgot—I’m supposed to be at Roshan Uncle’s by 6.”
She hugged me quickly and took off down the opposite lane. “Love you! My baby! Text me when you get home!”
“Bye!” I called after her, then turned toward the bus station.
My pace slowed. The wind tugged at my skirt, and my thoughts... they wandered.
To him.
Vihaan.
Why did I fall in his arms like that?
Why did I feel... safe?
And why did I feel like he already knew me?
I run cause I know i was late mom will be waiting for me at home.
As i stepped out of school my eyes only see the open cloud.
The clouds had looked heavy, but I didn’t expect the rain to fall this fast.
One second I was walking towards the bus station, and the next—tap tap tap—raindrops splashed against the pavement, turning it slick in moments.
“Haye Krishna ji aisa kyu? ,” I whispered, pulling my beg over my head and clutching my water bottle tighter. I started running, holding the fabric of my bag up to avoid getting it too drenched.
I could barely see. My shoes were slipping. The station was just across the road, the buses already honking and pulling in.
Bas thoda aur, Naira... Just a little more.
But just when I reached the edge of the curb, my foot slid.
I gasped—balance gaya—and before I could stop myself, I stumbled forward and landed—
Thud.
Right into someone.
I winced as my knee hit the wet pavement, and without looking up, panic flooded my voice.
“Sorry! Sorry... Maaf kijiye mujhe-.” I said in a rush, brushing my dress and wiping raindrops off my arms, heart hammering more from the fall than the weather.
But when I finally looked up—
Time. Stopped.
The rain disappeared.
The sound of the street vanished.
My heartbeat?
It raced so loud I could hear it in my ears.
Because it wasn’t just anyone standing there.
It was Vihaan Malhotra.
The Head Boy. The same one I’d bumped into hours ago. The one whose name echoed in whispers across the corridor.
And now... I had literally fallen at his feet.
His school shirt clung to his tall frame, damp from the rain. His dark hair was pushed back slightly, water dripping down the side of his face. But it was his eyes—deep, dark brown, almost unreadable—that held me still.
I couldn’t blink.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t even feel the pain in my scraped knee anymore.
I was just... looking.
And he was looking back.
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So, tell me my little chocho pies how was the chapter🎀?
Any guesses how Vihaan feel like he knows Naira? 🤓🙄
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