Evening study began in its usual, drowsy rhythm. I was ahead of schedule in Math, having already finished the first chapter from the textbook. So I turned to last year's question paper and began practicing.
The questions were tricky—not the usual direct sums, but twisted versions of the examples. I managed to solve most of them, but four of them had strange markings and wording that confused me. I needed clarity—not just on the steps, but on how they'd be marked in the board exam. Partial marks, rough work—those tiny things that decide toppers and border cases.
Luckily, our Math staff was the study in-charge for the boys' classroom today, right down the corridor. He had clearly told our class before, "If anyone needs clarification, you can come to the classroom. I'll be there."
So after thirty minutes of focused effort, I closed my notebook and went to the warden for permission.
"Ma'am, I have some doubts in Math. Sir said we can come and ask. He's in the boys' class today."
The warden raised one eyebrow like I'd said something suspicious. "I'll go check if the staff is there," she said flatly. "I can't let you go wandering in the boys' area without a proper reason."
I blinked. "But I just told you the reason—" I paused. She hadn't exactly accused me of anything, but her tone was enough. The implication hung in the air like a bad smell.
I nodded and returned to my seat, my cheeks slightly burning—not from embarrassment, but from restrained anger. She had indirectly said I wasn't going to clarify doubts, but to find an excuse to meet boys. And she'd done it in such a way that I couldn't even defend myself. Clever.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. She came back to the class, said nothing, and went to her chair like she'd forgotten the entire conversation.
I waited a few more minutes, then walked up to her again. "Ma'am?"
She looked up, blinking like I'd woken her from a nap. "Ah, yes. Sir is there. He said girls can come if they have doubts."
Then she looked around the class. "Does anyone else have doubts? I don't want to ask one by one to come and ask permission once I've sent her out."
Her tone had changed from suspicious to irritated, like we were all trying to create a riot with these 'study-related excuses'.
Most girls stayed silent, clearly uncomfortable. After a pause, Jai Harini raised her hand. "Ma'am, I also have some doubts in Math."
The warden nodded, looking slightly satisfied that it wasn't just me. "Go. Don't waste time talking on the way."
We nodded and left the room, my mind already on the question paper in my hand, but also painfully aware of how much effort it took just to ask a genuine academic doubt.
The boys' classroom was on the first floor, directly opposite ours. You could see both classes from the corridor, like mirror images across a divide. As Jai Harini and I walked up the stairs, her pace slowed. She grabbed my hand gently and said, "Wait a second."
I turned, a little impatient.
"Cool down," she said. "Don't take her words seriously and upset yourself… She's only doing this because you answered her back in front of everyone the other day. She's trying to subdue you now to claim her authority."
I let out a breath, a slow one.
"She's not hurting me," I replied. "I'm not that mentally weak. But yeah… she's definitely upsetting my mood. It's like she's trying to find reasons to point fingers at me. All this because she has a little power—does she think she can play games with me?"
Harini gave a small, disbelieving smile. "Power games? With teachers? And you can play better?"
I shrugged. "If I wanted to, I could. I just don't want to waste energy on people like her."
She gave me a side glance, half amused, half stunned. "You're just thirteen, Nila."
"Exactly. Which is why I won't stoop to her level."
We both laughed quietly and picked up our pace, mindful not to delay. "Let's go, or she'll get another reason to yell," I added.
As we reached the classroom, the boys were already alert. The sight of two girls from the opposite bay walking into their zone triggered immediate reactions—mostly childish, mostly predictable. They began to murmur and smirk, a few whispering exaggerated jokes that carried just enough for us to hear.
When Nishanth spotted me, he paused mid-conversation and waved with a light smile. I returned a quick nod, trying to keep it neutral.
Math sir, saw us at the door and waved us in. "Yes, come. What doubt do you have?" he asked.
He took Jai Harini's notebook first and began clarifying her doubts. When he glanced at my notebook and reference book, he paused.
"Ah," he said, holding it up slightly. "I was planning to recommend this book to your class next week for extra practice. Didn't expect you to already be using it. Good initiative."
I smiled lightly, but he was already flipping pages. When he found the sums I had marked, he looked genuinely impressed.
"These are well-selected questions. Challenging. Nice work."
Meanwhile, the rest of the classroom was… far from studious. Boys were clearly using our presence as an excuse to chatter more loudly than usual. A few had practically abandoned their books, whispering across rows or peeking at us with exaggerated curiosity.
Sir tapped the table twice, sharply. The sound cut through the chatter.
"Listen," he said, his voice firm. "She brought four solid doubts. I wasn't planning to teach during study hour, but since you've all clearly stopped studying, how about we use ten minutes productively?"
He paused. "I'll explain these sums on the board. You mind concentrating?"
The class responded in a sing-song chorus: "We'll listen, sir!"
I think most of them just wanted an excuse to watch something unfold—or continue teasing me and Nishanth while pretending to pay attention.
Sir wasn't one to be played. He clapped his hands once and pointed. "Move. Clear a bench for them in the front row."
Nishanth happened to be sitting in that exact row. Before he could even react, two boys dragged him out and slid into another table. Another guy slid out of the way in record time, and suddenly, only one spot was left: Nishanth's seat.
I took a step toward the now-empty spot, but Harini moved faster. She dropped her notebook and sat with a mischievous grin. That left me staring at one option—Nishanth's former seat.
I sat down.
A wolf whistle echoed from the back. Followed by a chorus of fake sneezes and dramatic gasps.
Sir didn't even look. He just raised one hand and said, "Silence."
And silence it became.
He started explaining the first sum, breaking it down on the board with clear steps. I focused hard. Blocking the echo of laughter. Blocking even the strange flutter in my chest.
When he finished the final sum, I raised my hand. "Sir, could you explain the marking scheme for this one? Like, what if we get the steps right but the final answer wrong?"
He nodded. "Good question. See, in the board exams, this kind of sum would have a five-mark structure…"
As he spoke, the mood of the classroom shifted. Somehow, what began as a noisy spectacle turned into actual concentration. Even the boys who were the first to laugh had now opened their books and begun taking notes.
Sometimes, silence isn't forced. It's earned.
As soon as the class ended and the doubts were cleared, I grabbed my books and left the boys' classroom without wasting a second. Harini followed right behind, and once we were in the corridor, I gave her a playful smack on the arm.
"Traitor," I said with mock anger.
She burst out laughing. "Come on, it was fun!"
I shook my head, but a smile crept in. "I won't lie… school life is fun in its own way. You can laugh at literally anything. Something as normal as sitting in a different bench becomes hilarious when twenty people join in."
"Exactly!" she grinned.
"But," I warned, turning serious, "if you don't move fast now, it won't be fun anymore. Mark my words—she'll be waiting with a watch in hand, ready for a full-blown police interrogation. And she'll use the opportunity to disturb the whole class."
Harini waved me off. "You're exaggerating."
I wasn't. I knew her. And this was her next move in the game.
Sure enough, the moment we stepped into our bay, the warden turned toward us, arms folded, eyes narrowing with theatrical exaggeration. Her voice rang out loudly enough for the entire class to hear, making no attempt to be discreet.
"Other students go to ask doubts for five minutes, ten at the most. You two—you two—took more than twenty minutes! Nearly half an hour! What were you both doing?"
Her words sliced through the classroom noise. Conversations halted. Pens froze mid-sentence. Heads turned toward us. Everyone was listening.
I took a breath. I knew how to fight back.
Tears welled in my eyes as if on cue.
Harini looked at me in shock. Just a few minutes ago, I'd told her I wasn't weak—and here I was, crying?
"Ma'am…" I choked out, tears falling now, real enough to sting. "What's wrong? Why are you always scolding me?"
The warden blinked, startled.
"Yesterday, I tried to clarify doubts with my friends—you scolded me. You even scolded the ones who were talking to me, saying I was chatting. So today, I went to the staff room. I didn't want to disturb anyone."
My voice cracked. "You didn't believe me when I asked for permission… and now, after getting it, after actually asking the sir and coming back… you're scolding me again?"
Harini stood frozen beside me.
"What am I supposed to do to not get scolded?" I asked, tears still spilling.
The warden opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.
I didn't stop.
"Is it because I asked you for my notes back? The Chinese reference notebook you seized during inspection—those aren't school textbooks, they're my personal study materials. I explained that to you… I thought we got over that. Or are you still angry because I asked for my book back?"
Silence fell across the bay.
I didn't accuse her directly, but the implication was clear. And she knew she couldn't fight back in front of an audience. If she snapped now, it would only confirm the power imbalance I had just laid bare.
Her lips moved, but she didn't speak. Her eyes darted toward the watching students, and her fingers clenched the edges of her shawl tightly. She couldn't afford to lose her reputation, not in front of this many witnesses.
And right then, as the room buzzed with held breath, the vice principal's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"What's going on here?"
All eyes turned to the classroom door, where both the principal and vice principal stood.