Chapter 16

Abhimanyu

The final exam ended, and with it, so did the reason for us to sit together.

I put my pen down, stretching my fingers as the invigilator called out for us to stop writing. A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, some students whispering excitedly about their post-exam plans. I, however, felt nothing. No relief, no excitement. Just a quiet stillness settling inside me.

Shubhi closed her answer sheet, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. For a second, I thought she would look at me. But she didn’t. Not even a glance.

Good. That made things easier.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

The invigilators started collecting our answer sheets, their slow movements only prolonging the moment. I tapped my fingers against the desk, stealing a final glance at her. She was staring straight ahead, her expression unreadable.

A part of me expected some kind of acknowledgment—maybe a nod, a simple bye, or anything to acknowledge that we had spent the last few weeks forced to sit beside each other. But she gathered her stuff in silence, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking away as if nothing had ever happened.

As if I had never existed.

I let out a quiet breath, gripping my bag and following the crowd outside. The corridors were buzzing with students talking about the exam, laughing, making plans. It was loud, chaotic, alive. But I felt detached, as if I were watching everything from a distance.

I stepped outside, the afternoon sun unusually bright after days of gloomy weather. Shubhi was walking ahead, a few steps away from me, but neither of us acknowledged the other.

It was weird.

A few days ago, I had been hyper-aware of her presence, of every glance, every unspoken word. And now, it was as if we had agreed to forget that we had ever shared a moment.

Maybe that was for the best.

I reached my bike, running a hand through my hair before unlocking it. Just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed.

Dad: Come home early today.

That was it. No how was your exam?, no how are you? Just another instruction, another reminder.

I exhaled sharply, shoving the phone back into my pocket. The irritation that had settled in my chest all day now had something to latch onto.

I revved the engine, letting the sound drown out my thoughts. As I drove away from school, I forced myself not to look back.

Because if I did, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see.

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