Between the Classes(Two different worlds)

Chapter 9 - Festival Day -01

Akshu giggled, eyes glinting. "Maybe supervise you."

Before Vidhu could retort, Nikki appeared with his usual grin, holding two cups of buttermilk. "For my favorite ladies," he announced proudly. "Free service from your darling Nikki."

Both girls burst into laughter. But Vidhu's smile faltered just a little when her eyes flickered across the stage. Siddharth was there, clipboard in hand, giving instructions to the sound team. He looked sharp in a black kurta, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair falling just slightly onto his forehead. But what unsettled her wasn't his appearance—it was the way his gaze brushed her every few minutes, as though she were the only one in that crowd.

And she felt it. Every time.

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Shruthi noticed too.

From her corner near the teacher's seating, her eyes followed Siddharth's line of vision, landing on Vidhu every single time. She clutched the file in her hand tighter, nails digging into the cover. Her smile remained fixed, but her heart throbbed with something sharp—envy.

Since when does he look at anyone like that? He never even blinked for anyone... until her.

Shruthi had known Siddharth since childhood, their bond unshakable—or so she believed. And now, here was a girl, just a student, suddenly carrying all his attention without even trying.

Her jaw tightened. But she quickly masked it, walking up to Siddharth with a soft smile. "Siddu, you need to take a break. You've been running around since morning."

He smiled faintly, grateful but distracted. His eyes drifted past her again—towards Vidhu.

Shruthi's stomach burned.

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Meanwhile, Vidhu sat at the back of the auditorium with Akshu and Nikki, pretending to focus on the cultural rehearsals. Performances went on—classical dances, choir practices, mimicry rehearsals. The crowd clapped and cheered.

But Vidhu couldn't shake the strange weight in her chest. Every time Siddharth walked past, her heart raced. Every time he looked her way, she felt her breath catch. And every time Shruthi spoke to him, laughed with him, stood close to him—something inside her tightened, though she refused to name it.

Nikki leaned over, teasing, "Our Vidhu is blushing again. I wonder who the lucky guy is?"

She shoved him lightly, hiding her face in her palms. "Shut up, Nikki."

Akshu raised a brow knowingly. "It's not just us who can see it, Vidhu. Sometimes, even your silence says everything."

Vidhu glanced at Siddharth again. Their eyes met, only for a second. But in that second, her pulse betrayed her.

🌙 Later that night

The festival wrapped up beautifully. Laughter echoed across the campus as students carried lanterns, firecrackers sparkled in the distant sky, and music filled the corridors. By the time everyone began retreating to their hostels, the decorations still glowed warmly, painting the campus in gold.

Vidhu, tired but restless, walked slowly towards the hostel. She adjusted her saree, her footsteps soft against the stone floor.

Behind her, footsteps followed. Heavy. Familiar.

She didn't need to turn. Her heart already knew.

"Vidhanya," Siddharth's voice broke the silence, low and steady.

She stopped. Turned slightly. The night breeze teased her braid, her jasmine flowers swaying.

For a moment, neither spoke. The unspoken stretched between them, louder than words.

Finally, he stepped closer, his eyes unreadable yet burning. "Do you know how difficult it was... to see you today and pretend nothing?"

Her breath caught. She clutched the pallu of her saree, unsure how to reply.

He exhaled deeply, struggling. Control yourself, Siddu. Don't ruin this.

But his heart was louder than his mind.

"I don't know when it started," he whispered, his voice trembling just slightly. "But today... when I saw you... I realized I can't deny it anymore. Vidhu, you're not just another student to me. You've become something I can't ignore. You've become... everything."

Vidhu's lips parted, eyes wide, her entire body frozen.

Neither moved for a long moment. Just the silence, the closeness, the unspoken truth thick in the night air.

And from the shadows, unseen by them, Shruthi stood near the corridor corner. Watching. Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palms.

Her heart whispered one thing: No. I won't let her take him from me.

The courtyard was buzzing with laughter and chatter. Diyas flickered, casting soft golden halos across faces. But for Vidhu, the world had gone strangely quiet. Her ears still echoed with his words.

"I can't deny it anymore... I love you."

Those four words had shaken her entire existence.

She walked back to her hostel slowly, clutching her pallu as though it were her shield. Akshu was already rushing ahead with excitement about tomorrow's celebrations, Nikki cracking jokes with random students they passed. But Vidhu stayed silent, her mind trapped in a loop.

Her blue eyes flickered with both fear and something she wasn't ready to name.

Once in her room, she dropped her dupatta on the bed and leaned against the wall, pressing a trembling hand over her chest. Her heart was racing like it wanted to leap out.

"Why..." she whispered to herself. "Why does it feel so right, when it should be wrong?"

She shut her eyes, but his face appeared instantly—his gaze burning with honesty, his voice husky when he whispered her name. The memory of his fingers brushing her waist earlier sent heat rushing to her cheeks.

Vidhu slid down onto her bed, hugging her knees, her braid falling across her shoulder. She buried her face in her palms, torn between laughing and crying.

He's my professor. I should hate him. But...

Her lips curved into a smile before she could stop it. She bit down hard, trying to erase it, but the smile stubbornly remained.

Outside, the sound of firecrackers burst in the distance as students tested their sparklers for tomorrow.

Inside, Vidhu whispered the words she dared not say aloud, her voice shaking with disbelief:
"Am I... falling for him?"

She didn't know the answer. All she knew was that the more she tried to resist, the harder she fell.

And in the shadows of the college courtyard, Shruthi had watched the rooftop scene earlier. Her smile was calm, polite as always, but her eyes burned with a silent storm.

Tomorrow's festival would not just bring lights. It would bring sparks—some of love, and some of jealousy.

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✨ Author's Note :
The saree, the spark, the confession... and a heart that refuses to stop racing 💓💫
What do you think Vidhu's answer will be? Drop your guesses 👇 Do you think Shruthi will stay quiet, or stir the storm? 🌩️