The sunlight filtering through Mak's window did little to lift his spirits. At 14, he was already feeling the pressure of high school—cricket, grades, and expectations from his father piling up like never before. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, as anxiety gnawed at him. The cricket trials were only two days away, but it wasn't just cricket that weighed on his mind—it was math.
If only math weren't such a nightmare, he thought. Every other subject was fine. But no matter how hard he tried, numbers seemed to dance in front of him, mocking his efforts. And he knew that his father wouldn't tolerate a dip in grades. He had made that crystal clear.
"Mak! Rise and shine! Get fresh and come downstairs. Breakfast will be ready in 30 minutes!" his mom's voice chimed, pulling him back to reality.
He glanced at the clock—7:15 AM. an hour before he had to leave for school. As he got out of bed, his eyes fell on his cricket bat leaning against the wall, a silent reminder of what was at stake. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone, half-hoping for a distraction, but there were no new messages. Just the usual silence before the storm.
---
Mak took a quick shower and wore his uniform and went Downstairs, the kitchen was buzzing with the smell of masala omelets and chai. His mother stood by the stove, flipping eggs in the pan. His dad, sitting at the table, had his nose buried in the business section of the newspaper. A financial consultant and former cricketer, his father's job required a sharp mind, and precision and critical thinking. Mak always admired his father's discipline, though sometimes that same discipline felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders.
"Morning," Mak mumbled, sliding into his seat and reaching for the chai.
His dad glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Morning, Mak. You're cutting it close again, aren't you?"
Mak winced. Time management wasn't exactly his strong suit, something his father never failed to remind him of. His father placed high importance on punctuality, whether it was for school or sports. Mak nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere—half on the trials, half on the looming math test.
"You're aware of the trials tomorrow, right?" His dad folded the newspaper neatly. "And your math grades?"
"Yeah, I know," Mak muttered, focusing on his omelet.
"Your form in cricket is solid, but you know the rule, Mak. If your grades don't pick up, especially in math, you won't be playing," his dad continued, his voice calm but firm. "I'm not saying you need to ace every subject, but at least pass your math test. You've got potential, but I need to see some effort in school too."
Mak nodded again, trying to swallow both his food and his frustration. If only math weren't such a disaster, his grades would be fine.
His mother placed a fresh plate of toast on the table and looked at his father. "He's working hard, dear. Give him a bit of breathing room."
His father sighed but didn't push further. "I know. I just want him to understand that both school and cricket are important. Balance is key, Mak."
"I'm trying, Dad," Mak said, his voice quiet. "I'll improve in math."
"Good. That's all I ask," his father said, softening. "I don't want you to lose out on cricket just because of one subject."
His mother gave him a supportive smile, handing him another cup of chai. "You'll get through this, beta. And eat your breakfast properly. You'll need the energy for school and practice."
---
At school, cricket was all anyone could talk about. The boys' trials were just a day away, and the excitement was palpable. Mak spotted Raghav by the lockers, grinning from ear to ear.
"Mak! Tomorrow's the day!" Raghav called out, jogging over and giving him a playful nudge. "You ready to smash it at the trials?"
Mak tried to return the enthusiasm. "Yeah, ready as I'll ever be."
Raghav frowned, noticing the hesitation. "You don't sound so sure. What's up?"
Mak shrugged, lowering his voice. "It's everything—school, the trials, my dad. If I don't pass my math test, I'm off the team."
Raghav's grin faded. "Seriously? Your dad would pull you off the team? That's harsh, man."
Mak sighed. "He's serious. If I can't get my grades up, especially in math, I'm done."
Raghav patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. You've got this. Just take care of school, and you'll ace the trials."
---
After a blur of classes, including a disastrous math Class, Mak met up with Aisha after school. They had known each other for years, having gone to the same primary school and living just a few streets apart. Their families were close, often meeting for dinners and festivals, and Aisha had always been someone Mak could rely on.
"You looked stressed during the maths class," Aisha said, falling into step beside him. "How do you think it is going? are you able to understand what is being taught?
"Not everything," Mak admitted. "Math just messes me up every time especially Algebra. I don't understand it at all."
Aisha nodded, her usual calm expression sympathetic. "Well, you're in luck. I'm free tonight, and we can go over math together. You've still got more than a month to pull your grade up as we still have more then a month the for 1st semester test."
Mak hesitated. "Yeah but I don't want to take up your time and I have trials tomorrow."
"You're not wasting my time," Aisha insisted. "It's better to take your mind off the trial today. If you keep thinking about it, you'll just stress yourself out. Besides, my mom always says you should come over more. We've been friends forever, and we'll get through this together."
Mak smiled despite himself. Aisha was one of the top students in their class, and she always seemed to have everything under control. "You're right," he admitted. "I need to stop stressing about the trial. If anyone can help me with math, it's definitely you."
---
That evening, after practice, Mak headed over to Aisha's house. Their families lived close enough that the walk only took a few minutes. Aisha's parents were close friends with Mak's and the families often spent weekends together. He knocked on the door, and Aisha opened it, greeting him with a smile.
"Ready to dive into some algebra?" she teased as they settled at the dining table, her textbooks already spread out.
"Not really, but I guess I don't have a choice," Mak replied, though he was grateful for her help.
For the next few hours, Aisha patiently explained the equations he'd been struggling with, breaking everything down in a way that actually made sense. They worked through practice problems, Aisha correcting him when he slipped up and offering tips on how to approach certain questions.
As they worked, Mak found himself relaxing. The weight of the trials and school pressure didn't feel so heavy with Aisha's calm voice guiding him through the problems. It was moments like this that reminded him why they were such close friends. They had each other's backs, even when things seemed overwhelming.
By the end of the session, Mak had a better understanding of the material, and for the first time in days, he felt a glimmer of hope.
"Thanks, Aisha. I needed that," Mak said, gathering his things.
"No problem! We can study together twice a week, or even more if you need it, until the exam date," Aisha replied with a smile. "And don't worry—you'll do great in both the test and the trials. Just remember not to let the pressure get to you."
Mak nodded, feeling a little lighter. "I'll give it my best shot. Thanks again!"
---
As he walked back home, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement, Mak allowed himself to breathe. Tomorrow would be a new day. The trials were looming, and so were his grades, but at least he wasn't in it alone.