The classroom buzzed with its usual pre-class energy as I stepped inside. Students were chatting in small groups, flipping through textbooks, or scribbling down last-minute homework. Yet, an unusual tension lingered in the air—something was different today. My eyes involuntarily scanned the room, and that's when I saw him.
Aadav.
He sat at his usual desk, but everything about him was off. His left cheek bore a nasty bruise, his knuckles were red and raw, and his lip looked like it had been split recently. For a moment, I thought I'd imagined it—Aadav wasn't the type to show weakness. But there he was, his injuries in plain sight, sitting as if nothing had happened. My heart twisted in a way I didn't like. It wasn't pity—I hated pity—but it was something close to it. Concern? Worry?
I forced myself to look away, pretending not to notice. No, I would not give in to my curiosity. Whatever had happened to him was none of my business. I had enough on my plate without worrying about Aadav and his mysterious injuries. Besides, he probably didn't want anyone's sympathy.
Sliding into my seat, I opened my notebook and tried to focus on reviewing yesterday's lesson. But it was impossible to ignore the hushed whispers around me. Everyone was talking about him. As if on cue, Kavi plopped down beside me, her eyes wide with gossip.
"Paavna, did you hear?" she whispered, leaning so close I could smell the faint mint of her toothpaste.
"Hear what?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral, though I already had a sinking feeling about what was coming.
"About Aadav!" Kavi's voice was barely a whisper, but her excitement was palpable. "He got into a fight with an upper-class boy the day before yesterday. Like, a real fight! They say he beat the living daylights out of him. His father was called to the office yesterday evening."
"Oh," I said, pretending to be unimpressed. My fingers tightened around my pen, though.
"That's not all," Kavi continued, her voice dropping even lower. "Those injuries? They're not from the fight. They're from his father. Can you believe it? His own father beat him like that! What kind of monster does that to their own son?"
I froze, her words sinking into me like cold water. My gaze flickered to Aadav again, but only for a split second. His head was bowed slightly, his hands resting on the desk. He looked… broken. And that did something to me—something I didn't want to acknowledge.
"How do you know all this?" I asked Kavi, keeping my tone casual even as my mind raced.
"Oh, you know how news spreads," she said with a shrug. "Someone's cousin's friend saw his father yelling at him near the principal's office. It's all over the school."
I wanted to say something, to express the storm of emotions brewing inside me, but I couldn't. Instead, I clenched my fists under the desk, my nails digging into my palms. How could a father do that? What kind of person hurts their own child like that? The thought made my stomach churn with anger. Aadav may have fought someone, but he didn't deserve this. No one did.
I hated that I felt this way. Hated that I cared. He had nothing to do with me. Nothing. So why did it hurt so much to see him like this?
"Don't you think it's horrible?" Kavi asked, nudging me when I didn't respond.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "It's horrible."
But even as I said the words, I knew they didn't capture the depth of what I was feeling. Horrible didn't even begin to cover it. I wanted to storm up to his father and demand answers, to scream at him for being so cruel. But of course, I couldn't do any of that. All I could do was sit there, pretending not to care.
The bell rang, signaling the start of class. Gopi Sir entered, his usual stern expression in place, and the room fell silent. But my mind was far from silent. It kept circling back to Aadav, to the bruises, to the whispers.
The classroom fell silent as Gopi Sir strode in, his stern expression demanding instant attention. "Settle down, everyone," he commanded, his voice firm but calm. Chairs scraped against the floor as students hurriedly took their seats. The usual pre-class chatter died down, replaced by the rhythmic shuffling of notebooks and the occasional cough.
"As you know," Gopi Sir began, adjusting his glasses, "exams are around the corner. Today, we'll discuss strategies to prepare effectively. First and foremost, you need to revise daily—there's no substitute for consistency."
His voice echoed in the room, authoritative and steady, but to me, it might as well have been static. My pen rested motionless on my notebook, the page blank save for the title I had scrawled earlier. My mind wasn't in the classroom; it was stuck on Aadav, on the bruises that marred his face, on the rumors swirling around him.
How could a father do something so cruel? Gopi Sir's words faded further into the background as my thoughts spiraled. Yes, Aadav had fought someone—it wasn't right, but wasn't that punishment enough? What kind of person humiliates and hurts their own child in public? My chest felt tight, anger and helplessness twisting together.
"Yelling at him in the principal's office," Kavi had said. The image formed in my mind unbidden: Aadav standing there, his father's voice sharp and cutting, each word a lash. My stomach churned. No one deserved that, not even Aadav.
"Paavna."
The sound of my name jolted me out of my thoughts. I blinked up at Gopi Sir, who was now standing by my desk, his piercing gaze locked on me.
"Are you with us?" he asked, his tone tinged with irritation.
"Yes, Sir," I mumbled, hastily picking up my pen and scribbling something on my notebook to appear busy.
"Good. Pay attention," he said, moving on without waiting for a response.
I exhaled, the heat of embarrassment rising to my cheeks. But even as I forced myself to focus on the lesson, my mind refused to let go. It kept drifting back to Aadav, to the quiet way he sat at his desk, shoulders slightly hunched as if he wanted to disappear.
When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Gopi Sir's voice cut through my haze. "Remember, preparation is key. Don't wait until the last minute to study. You're dismissed."
Chairs scraped against the floor again as students began packing their things. I glanced at Aadav one more time before leaving, but he didn't look up. He just sat there, staring at the desk as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
For reasons I couldn't fully explain, it hurt to see him like that. It hurt in a way that lingered, even as I walked out of the classroom and into the bustling corridor.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went from one class to the next, my body present but my mind elsewhere. By the time lunch rolled around, I felt drained. The cafeteria was its usual chaotic self, with students jostling for space and the clatter of trays filling the air. I found a corner table and sat down, poking at my food without much appetite.
Kavi joined me after a while, her tray piled high with food. "You're so quiet today," she said, taking a bite of her Paapad. "Still thinking about Aadav?"
I shot her a look. "Why would I be thinking about him?"
"Oh, come on, Paavna. It's written all over your face. You're worried about him, aren't you?"
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "It's not that. It's just... I don't understand how someone can go through that and act like it's nothing. He just sits there, like he's fine, but he's not fine."
Kavi's expression softened. "Maybe he doesn't want anyone to know how much it hurts."
"Maybe," I said, though it didn't make me feel any better. "But pretending doesn't make it go away."
Kavi nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "You know, you could talk to him."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Talk to him? Are you serious?"
"Why not? Maybe he needs someone to talk to, even if he doesn't realize it."
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. What if she was right? What if Aadav did need someone, even if he acted like he didn't? The thought terrified me, but it also felt... right. Like something I needed to do, no matter how uncomfortable it made me.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Kavi stood up, grabbing her tray. "Think about it," she said before walking away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I spent the rest of the day debating with myself. Part of me wanted to reach out to Aadav, to offer him some kind of support. But another part of me was scared. What if he pushed me away? What if he didn't want my help? By the time the final bell rang, I still hadn't made up my mind.
As I gathered my things and headed for the door, I spotted Aadav standing by his locker. He was alone, his expression unreadable. My heart pounded as I walked past him, every step feeling heavier than the last. But just as I reached the end of the hallway, I stopped.
I turned around, my resolve hardening. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I couldn't just walk away. Taking a deep breath, I made my way back to him.
"Aadav," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then, to my surprise, he gave me a small, tired smile.
"Hey, Paavna," he said quietly.
And just like that, the walls between us began to crack.