The alarm buzzed softly on her bedside table.

Ridrakshika groaned, turning over and peeking one eye open. First day.

She sat up slowly, brushing her hair out of her face, and stretched as the early morning light crept through the curtains.

Within half an hour, she was dressed in her new school uniform — neatly ironed and her hair tied back with a soft sky-blue ribbon.

She glanced at her phone and quickly dialed Esha.

“Main gate pe milna, okay?” she said the second the call connected

“Don’t even think about being late.”

Esha yawned on the other end. “Main aa rahi hoon, chill! Tu toh aaj first day waali excitement mein hyper lag rahi hai.”

“Obviously! Don’t ditch me, warna main school ke pehle din se hi sad ho jaungi.”

“I got you,” Esha laughed. “Matching clips pehni hai na?”

“Duh.” Ridrakshika grinned and hung up.

Downstairs, the smell of fresh toast and butter made her stomach growl. She sat at the table and quickly scarfed down her breakfast, while her little sister Riddhi came bounding in, her two little ponytails bouncing with every step.

“Didi! Main ready ho gayi!” she chirped.

“Chal, chhoti explorer,” Ridrakshika said, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Just then, their elder brother Viyansh entered the room, already dressed in his college hoodie, keys in hand.

“Drop service ready, madams,” he announced.

On the way to school, music played softly in the car. The city passed by in a blur of morning haze and honking scooters.

When they reached the school gate, Viyansh parked briefly, turned around, and gave both sisters a smile.

He leaned in and kissed their foreheads — first Riddhi, then Ridrakshika.

“All the best, champ,” he said warmly.

“And you, little mischief,” he added, pinching Riddhi’s cheek.

“Bye bhaiya!” they chimed together as they stepped out.

Ridrakshika looked at the big school gates, heart thudding.

On the other side, Adyansh lay still for a moment, eyes closed, brows furrowed. The alarm had already gone off twice.

Finally, with a sigh, he threw off the blanket and sat up, ruffling his messy hair.

“Another day. Same faces. Same nonsense.”

But today wasn’t just any day — it was the start of a new session.

Still half asleep, he walked across the hallway and pushed open a door.

Inside, Aanya was bundled up in her blanket, barely visible.

“Aanya,” he said, nudging her leg. No response.

“Oye chipkali,” he added with a smirk, louder this time, “uth ja. School.”

A muffled groan came from under the covers.

“Uff bhaiii… 5 minutes…”

He rolled his eyes. “Tu roz 5 minute bolti hai. Aur phir mujhe principal ki lecture sunni padti hai.”

She peeked out finally, hair wild, eyes half open.

“You’re worse than the alarm.”

“And better looking,” he added smugly, walking out before she could throw a pillow at him.

—

By the time both of them were ready, they sat at the breakfast table, quickly eating toast and sipping juice. The house felt too quiet — their parents were still away on a business trip.

Aanya looked up. “Aapko lagta hai naye session mein kuch exciting hoga?”

He shrugged, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Mujhe toh lagta hai sab wahi bakwaas hoga.”

Then he stood, grabbing his bag. “Chal, late ho jaayenge. And today, don’t forget your ID like last time.”

“Ugh, ek baar ki baat thi,” Aanya muttered, rushing after him.

As they walked out together, he put on his sunglasses, glanced up at the sky, and smirked to himself.

"Let’s see....aaj konsa naya hater list me add hone vala hai."

And with that, the two siblings headed out, unaware that today — someone new was about to walk right into their world.

The school courtyard was buzzing with students, rushing to their respective buildings as the bell rang in the background.

A sleek black car halted near the school entrance.

Adyansh stepped out, buttoning the top of his blazer, cool and composed as ever. Aanya hopped out right behind him, adjusting her bag and trying to match his pace.

"Bhai, thoda slow! Main heels mein nahi hoon, school shoes mein hoon," she complained, half-jogging.

"Teri speed ko main slow karu toh bell baj jaayegi," he muttered with a smirk.

"Aur bhai, entry mein phir se hero wali vibe leke aaya hai tu."

A voice called out from behind.

He turned slightly, already knowing who it was.

Sanskaar caught up with him, grinning as always — loose tie, sleeves rolled up, and that permanent mischief in his eyes.

"Tu toh lagta hai runway pe utar ke aaya ho," Sanskaar smirked.

"Aur tu hamesha ki tarah ek dum last bench energy ke saath," he shot back, smirking.

They bumped fists, falling into step naturally.

"Naya session, same teachers, same rules todne hain kya?" Sanskaar asked.

He shrugged, eyes scanning the crowd lazily.

The three of them entered together, the trio turning heads — two seniors with their casual charisma, and the little sister walking in between like royalty guarded by kings.

Inside the building, Adyansh stopped near the junior corridor and turned to Aanya.

"Class 8-B, right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Ja, jaake doston se mil. Aur koi complain aaye toh pehle principal ke paas jaayegi, fir mere paas," he warned lightly, though his tone was warm.

"Haan haan, jaa rahi hoon. Tum dono cool dudes jao apni class mein," she replied sassily and walked off.

—

Moments later, Adyansh and Sanskaar entered their own class — late, but not surprised.

Most of the benches were already filled, but their usual spot near the window was free.

They sat down, bags tossed lazily to one side, and instantly launched into conversation like no time had passed since yesterday.

"Woh Mehta sir aaj pehle period mein hai na?" Sanskaar asked.

"Haan, aur har saal ki tarah is saal bhi dimaag khayenge" Adyansh sulked.

Just then, the door slammed.

“Enough!”

Mehta sir entered, his stern gaze scanning the room — and stopping directly on the two boys whispering like they owned the place.

"Adyansh. Sanskaar. If you're done hosting your little gossip session, maybe we can begin the class?"

They both looked up, unbothered.

"Of course, sir," Adyansh replied smoothly, not a hint of regret in his voice.

Sanskaar just nodded, barely suppressing a grin.

The class chuckled quietly, already used to this routine.

Mehta sir sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Every. Single. Year."

Ridrakshika stood just outside the school gate, her fingers nervously tugging at the strap of her backpack. Her eyes darted across the crowd — new faces, loud voices, seniors laughing in groups, juniors hurrying past.

She checked her phone.

8:02 AM.

School ke bell bajne wali hai… aur Esha abhi tak nahi aayi? school ke pehle din hi late hogayi.

She called her again. No answer. A short text appeared a second later:

“Stuck in traffic! 5 mins max! Don’t wait! Go in!!”

She stared at the screen, lips pressed into a thin line. The idea of walking into a new school — alone — sent a rush of anxiety through her chest.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the gate.

Inside, the campus was alive. Students moved around like bees in a hive. Teachers directed them to their respective classes. The buzz of conversations filled the air.

She clutched her file tighter, silently praying she wouldn’t trip, get lost, or look too clueless.

Suddenly, someone bumped into her from behind.

“Sorry!” a junior muttered, rushing past.

Okay… okay, just walk straight. Find the notice board. Look for your class. Don’t panic.

She kept her eyes low and moved forward, every step feeling a little heavier than the last.

And then, just as she reached the building entrance—

“OYEEE RIDRAKSHIKAAA!!”

She turned to see Esha running toward her, hair a mess, tie half-tied, one shoe lace undone.

“Main aa gayi! Mat bolna tu akeli gayi andar!”

Ridrakshika let out a laugh of relief. “Teri wajah se mujhe almost anxiety attack aa gaya tha.”

Esha clutched her side, panting. “Traffic, yaar! But now I’m here. Let’s go scare some teachers.”

Ridrakshika smiled and nodded. With her best friend now by her side, everything suddenly felt a little easier.

Ridrakshika and Esha hurried down the hallway, half-jogging toward their classroom.

"Main bol rahi thi na, jaldi nikalte!" Ridrakshika whispered sharply.

"Uff yaar traffic tha! Bas 2 minute hi late hain!" Esha tried to defend herself, clutching her bag tighter.

As soon as they reached the door of Class 11-A, they paused — the classroom was silent… too silent.

Ridrakshika peeked in — and there he was.

Mehta sir. Already in. Arms crossed. Eyes sharp.

"May we come in, sir?" she asked politely, stepping in with Esha right behind her.

Sir’s expression didn’t budge.

"Wah. Kitne punctual bachche hain humare school ke. Pehle din hi grand entry maar rahe hain?"

The class snickered. Esha gave Ridrakshika an oops look.

Before they could move, sir’s gaze shifted — and hardened.

"Adyansh. Sanskaar. Kya baat chal rahi hai itni important jo aap dono abhi bhi baatein kar rahe hain?"

The two boys looked up, mid-conversation. Adyansh leaned back casually.

"Sir, we were discussing syllabus anxiety," he said smoothly, sarcasm barely hidden.

"Mujhe lagta hai aap dono ko seating anxiety hone chahiye," Mehta sir snapped. Then his eyes flicked toward Ridrakshika.

"You. New student. What’s your name?"

Ridrakshika straightened. "Ridrakshika Verma, sir."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Good. Go sit with Adyansh. Right now."

Ridrakshika blinked.

Esha blinked harder.

Adyansh looked sideways, clearly not thrilled — but didn’t protest. He moved his bag with a sharp sigh, clearing space beside him.

"Sanskaar!" Mehta sir barked. "You get up and sit with... you." He pointed at Esha.

"With pleasure, sir," Sanskaar grinned, getting up without argument. Esha just looked like she’d swallowed a chilli.

Ridrakshika slowly walked toward the empty seat beside Adyansh, her heart thudding louder than the fan spinning above them.

She sat down quietly.

He didn’t even look at her.

Ridrakshika slid quietly into the seat beside Adyansh, keeping her gaze forward and her posture stiff. Adyansh didn’t spare her even a glance — just kept scribbling something on the edge of his notebook.

From the third row, someone’s pen paused midair.

Tanisha Singhania, the self-declared princess of Class 11-C, narrowed her eyes as she watched Ridrakshika sit next to her Adyansh.

Excuse me? Who even is this new girl? And why is she sitting there?

Her jaw clenched. She leaned closer to her best friend, Meher, and whispered sharply,

“Yeh nayi ladki kaunsi hai? Aur Mehta sir ne ise uske paas kyu bitha diya?”

Meher, caught off guard, tried to play it cool.

“Shayad new admission hai… aur kya karegi? Sir ne bola toh baith gayi.”

Tanisha wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glued to the pair — especially to Ridrakshika, who now sat awkwardly beside Adyansh, her hands neatly folded on the desk.

Adyansh still didn’t seem to care.

But Tanisha cared. Way too much.

She flipped her hair and let out an exaggerated scoff

“Is ladki ko koi aur jagah nahi mili thi kya baithne ke liye? Obviously attention chahiye.”

Meher raised a brow. “Tu thoda overthink kar rahi hai—”

“No, Meher,” Tanisha snapped softly. “Tu nahi samjhegi. Adyansh aur main… we have a connection. And this girl better stay in her limits.”

She sat back, arms folded, glaring daggers at Ridrakshika’s back.

The class continued, Mehta sir’s voice droning on, but in Tanisha’s mind — war had already begun.

She didn’t know who Ridrakshika Verma was.

But one thing was clear:

She’d better stay away from Adyansh.

Recess Time — Class 11-C

The bell rang, and the classroom instantly came to life — chairs scraping, bags unzipping, and students rushing out for a break.

Adyansh stood up, stretching a little as he glanced toward the door.

Ridrakshika, still sitting on the outer side of the bench, was calmly packing her stuff before getting up.

Adyansh looked at her, slightly annoyed.

“Suno, side ho zara. Bahar jana hai.”

Ridrakshika nodded, “Haan, one minute,” and continued folding her notebook.

But that one minute was apparently too long for Adyansh’s patience.

“Arey jaldi hato na! Itna kya time laga rahi ho?” he snapped, already frowning.

Ridrakshika paused, turned slowly to look at him — her expression sharp but calm.

“Hat rahi hu na. Itna kya drama kar rahe ho?” she said, a little sass in her voice.

Adyansh scoffed, his ego instantly flaring.

“Excuse me? Tumhe pata bhi hai main kaun hu?”

Ridrakshika raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed.

“Jo bhi ho, I Don't Care.”

“Pehle baat karne ki tameez seekh lo, fir bolna.”

For a second, Adyansh just stared at her — stunned.

No one ever talked back to him like that. Especially not with that tone.

Around them, a few students who had stayed back exchanged amused glances.

And from the back, Tanisha watched the entire scene unfold — her glare now sharp enough to cut glass.

Adyansh clenched his jaw, stepped out without another word, but his mind wasn’t on recess anymore.

Because for the first time…

Someone had actually put him in his place.

Inside the classroom, after Adyansh storms out

Ridrakshika slumped into her seat with a small huff. Esha leaned over her desk with wide eyes.

“Kya hua? Kya chal raha tha?”

Ridrakshika rolled her eyes.

“Kuch nahi, ye Adyansh... kitna rude hai yaar! Ek second ruk nahi sakta tha?”

Esha nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmm, hai toh rude. Par ladkiyaan uske handsome face aur charming attitude pe marti hain.”

Ridrakshika gave her a look.

“Haan toh handsome hai toh matlab kuch bhi karega? No manners bas?”

Esha smirked mischievously.

“Ohhh toh tu maan rahi hai ki vo handsome hai?”

Ridrakshika’s eyes widened.

“Hatt pagli! Kuch bhi bakwaas karti rehti hai tu.”

She got up quickly, grabbing her water bottle.

“Main canteen jaa rahi hu.”

Esha laughed, jumping up to follow.

“Main bhi chalti hu... mujhe toh full gossip chahiye!”

---

Meanwhile — on the other side, in the school corridor

Adyansh leaned against the railing outside, sipping water from his bottle.

Sanskaar came up beside him, smirking.

“Bhai... ladki toh gajab hai. Pehli baar kisi ne tujhe jawab diya hai iss school me.”

“Lagta hai competition aa gaya hai!”

Adyansh narrowed his eyes, clearly still annoyed.

“Chal saale, kaam kar. Mere aage na koi tikka hai, na tik payega.”

He threw the bottle cap back on and walked off, brushing his hand through his hair.

But inside his head?

Ridrakshika’s voice was still echoing:

‘Pehle baat karne ki tameez seekh ke aana.’

And for the first time in a long time…

Someone had left a mark.

_____________________________________________________

So here is the chapter 2 of our book. Do comment and tell us what do you think about Adyansh and Ridrakshika ✨

     ~shanshya🧿