Halfway to Us

"The Wrong Text"

Aarvi Kapoor had a PhD in chaos. It wasn’t a formal degree, of course, but anyone who knew her could testify to the fact. She could trip over flat surfaces, spill chai on her laptop, and somehow end up laughing at situations that should have made her cry.

And today, of all days, she was walking into college thinking she had everything under control.

Spoiler: she didn’t.

It all started with a text.

Her phone buzzed while she balanced a coffee in one hand and her bag in the other. Normally, she ignored notifications until it was convenient. But something about this one made her glance down immediately.

“Meet me at the canteen in five. Don’t be late.”

It was from Reyansh Oberoi.

Aarvi froze mid-step. Reyansh. Calm. Composed. Always three steps ahead of everyone else in life. Reyansh, who had once corrected her entire group presentation because she had “miscalculated a decimal.” Reyansh, who somehow made even coffee spills look intentional.

And apparently, he wanted to see her in five minutes.

She typed back quickly, fingers trembling slightly:
“Which canteen? The one where everyone eats or the one where no one exists?”

A minute later, his reply came:
“You’ll see. Just come. And Aarvi… try not to burn anything down before you get here.”

Classic Reyansh. Calm, teasing, slightly dramatic.

By the time Aarvi reached the campus canteen, she was already imagining a hundred ways this could go wrong. Maybe he wanted to lecture her about the upcoming project. Or maybe—God forbid—he had a group assignment surprise.

She peeked inside. Reyansh was already there, leaning against the table with that infuriatingly perfect posture and a smirk that made her want to roll her eyes and punch him at the same time.

“Finally decided to grace us with your presence?” he asked, voice smooth like always.

Aarvi plopped into the chair across from him. “Had to make sure the universe didn’t implode before I got here.”

He raised an eyebrow, obviously amused. “The universe can wait. But your coffee—apparently it cannot.”

She glanced at the cup in her hand. Somehow, she had managed to spill a tiny drop onto her sleeve without noticing. Typical.

Reyansh leaned over, eyes glinting with mischief. “Here, let me…”

Before she could protest, he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the stain. “See? You’re not completely hopeless.”

Aarvi couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Careful. Compliments from you are dangerous.”

He shrugged, leaning back casually. “I deal in small doses of danger.”

And just like that, Aarvi realized something terrifying and exhilarating: Reyansh Oberoi, the calm, composed, slightly too-perfect Reyansh, was slowly, irritatingly… growing on her.

Little did she know, this was only the beginning. Of the jokes. Of the awkward moments. Of coffee spills. Of accidental confessions.

Of meeting him halfway.