The Grand Finale: Will We Pass or Just Look Good Failing?

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Aashna sighed as she walked into the library, scanning the aisles for a particular troublemaker. It didn’t take long to spot him. Dhruvin sat slouched over a desk, flipping through a literature book with an exaggeratedly studious expression, as if he had just discovered the secrets of the universe.

“There you are,” she said, placing her books down. “I was beginning to think you got lost between the bookshelves.”

Dhruvin looked up and smirked. “Ah, my scholarly companion has arrived. Ready to unlock the mysteries of literature?”

Aashna rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know what you’re looking at, do you?”

“Of course, I do.” He dramatically gestured to the open book in front of him. “This… this is profound.”

She leaned over and glanced at the page. “You’re holding it upside down.”

Dhruvin coughed, flipping the book over like that had been his plan all along. “Details, Aashna. Don’t focus on the details.”

With a sigh, she opened her notes. “We need to find solid literature references. And by ‘we,’ I mean me, because I highly doubt you’re actually going to contribute.”

“Hey! I can be useful,” Dhruvin said, pulling out his phone. “Look, I’m already researching.”

Aashna squinted at his screen, only to find his search bar filled with the words: What the hell is a metaphor?

She smacked his arm. “Are you serious?”

Dhruvin grinned shamelessly. “Hey, I’m a filmmaker, not a poet. Why use metaphors when I can just show things on screen?”

Aashna let out a groan. “This is going to be a long day.”

They spent the next hour sorting through books, with Dhruvin interrupting every five minutes to make unnecessary comments.

“So, Aashna, what if—hypothetically speaking—you just gave me your number? That way, if we ever need to urgently discuss, uh, metaphors, I can call you.”

She didn’t even look up. “Nice try. Not happening.”

“Come on! After everything we’ve been through?”

“All we’ve been through is you giving me a headache.”

Dhruvin dramatically clutched his heart. “Aashna Pathak, you wound me.”

She merely smirked. “Good.”

Over the next few days, Aashna and Dhruvin found themselves reluctantly becoming a team. Between sneaking snacks into the library and bickering over fonts in their report, they somehow managed to piece everything together. The video was another challenge altogether.

“Hold the camera steady, Dhruvin!” Aashna scolded, trying to fix the script on her phone while balancing a coffee cup in the other hand.

“It is steady!” Dhruvin argued. “Your definition of ‘steady’ is just—”

The camera tilted dramatically mid-sentence.

Aashna glared at him. “If this turns out shaky, I swear I’m—”

“You’ll what?” he grinned. “Scold me to death?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No. I’ll personally make sure you don’t get your metaphor explanation ever.”

He gasped in mock horror. “Not my precious metaphors!”

Eventually, after multiple retakes, frustrated groans, and Dhruvin’s unhelpful tendency to add ‘cinematic flair’ to everything, they managed to finish both the video and the report. Aashna found herself begrudgingly impressed by Dhruvin’s editing skills, though she refused to say it out loud.

Finally, the day of the results arrived.

The entire auditorium buzzed with excitement. Students sat in clusters, nervously chatting while waiting for the judges to arrive. Aashna and Dhruvin were seated near the front, her fingers drumming anxiously against the armrest while Dhruvin leaned back, arms crossed, as if he were about to watch a movie rather than hear the fate of their project.

“Why are you so calm?” she whispered. “We could lose.”

“I’ve accepted my fate,” Dhruvin said dramatically. “If we win, great. If we lose, I get to witness you rage about it, which is equally entertaining.”

She shot him a glare. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to resist, yes.”

Before she could throw something at him, the judges took the stage. The announcements began, listing honorable mentions and third-place winners. Aashna bit her lip, her heart pounding. Dhruvin, meanwhile, was still entirely too relaxed.

“And the winner for best video and research report is…” the judge paused for effect. “Aashna Pathak and Dhruvin Deshmukh!”

Aashna’s mouth fell open. She barely had a second to process before Dhruvin let out a victorious whoop and grabbed her hand, pulling her up.

“We won?” she said in disbelief.

“Of course, we did,” Dhruvin said smugly. “I mean, was there ever a doubt?”

She smacked his arm, but even she couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her face. As they walked to the stage, she whispered, “I take back every nice thought I ever had about you.”

He smirked. “You think nice thoughts about me?”

“Forget I said anything.”

Too late. He was going to hold onto that for as long as he could.

As they received their certificates and a round of applause, Aashna glanced at Dhruvin. He was still grinning like an idiot, but beneath all that bravado, there was genuine pride in his eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as impossible as she thought.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

Author’s Note

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