The auditorium smelled of fresh paint and nervous energy. Students rushed about with cue cards and files, their hushed whispers echoing under the high ceiling. The annual debate competition wasn't just an event at St. Xavier's College-it was the battlefield where reputations were made and broken.
Riya Mehra stood at the side of the stage, her blazer neatly pressed, her hair pinned back with ruthless precision. Outwardly, she looked composed. Inwardly, her heart was pounding.
"You've got this," Aanya, her best friend, whispered, nudging her shoulder.
Riya forced a smile. "I have to. This isn't just a debate, it's my scholarship. I can't afford to lose."
Before Aanya could reply, the announcer's voice boomed from the microphone.
"Our next participants-Riya Mehra and Aarav Malhotra."
The name rolled across the auditorium like a spark waiting to ignite.
Riya's gaze snapped to the opposite side of the stage. A boy stepped forward, tall, broad-shouldered, exuding a confidence that made people notice him without trying. His navy-blue blazer looked like it belonged on a fashion ramp. His eyes-sharp and unreadable-swept the room before settling on her.
And then he smiled.
Not the polite kind of smile, not the nervous kind either. It was a slow, deliberate curve of his lips, as if he already knew how this was going to end.
Riya felt something twist in her chest. Annoyance. Definitely annoyance.
He offered a hand as they took their places at the podium.
"Ladies first?" His voice was smooth, too smooth.
Her spine stiffened. "Don't expect me to go easy."
The timer began. The debate topic lit up on the screen: Technology-boon or bane?
Riya spoke first. Her words flowed sharp and steady, each argument backed by facts and layered with conviction. She spoke about ethics, about the dangers of overdependence, her voice rising and falling like a rhythm she had mastered through weeks of practice.
The audience nodded, impressed.
Then Aarav spoke. And it was like watching a storm unravel.
He didn't just argue-he told stories. He painted pictures of how technology saved lives, connected hearts, built futures. His words weren't just logical; they were charming. He threw in jokes that made the audience laugh, slipped in statistics without making them sound dull, and when he glanced at Riya, it was with a glint in his eyes that said, Catch me if you can.
Every point she made, he countered. Every confident stance she took, he shifted the ground beneath her.
By the time the bell rang, the auditorium was buzzing.
"And the winner is... Aarav Malhotra!"
The applause was thunderous. Riya stood frozen, her heart sinking, her hands cold against the edge of the podium.
Aarav leaned slightly toward her, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
"Good fight, Mehra. You almost had me."
Almost. The word stung worse than the loss.
As the crowd cheered his name, Riya forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Inside, a fire had been lit.
This wasn't the end. It was the beginning.
And she swore to herself-Aarav Malhotra would never defeat her again.
YOU ARE READING
The Edge Between Us
Romance"He promised revenge, but all I felt was his heat pressing against me, his anger melting into longing. Loving him is a battlefield-and I've already surrendered."
