You walk into the coaching center, the familiar scent of chalk and stale coffee filling your nostrils. Your eyes immediately scan the room, pinpointing Bhavya's usual spot. *He's there.* Your stomach clenches, a familiar mixture of dread and exhilaration. You find your own seat, trying to look absorbed in your notes, but your thoughts are a chaotic mess. You can still feel the ghost of his gaze from yesterday, a fleeting moment that has replayed endlessly in your mind. Was it a coincidence? Or was he truly waiting? The instructor's voice begins to drone, but you barely hear him over the pounding of your own heart. This silent dance, this agonizing push and pull, is becoming unbearable. You glance at your notebook, then covertly flick your eyes towards him, wondering, hoping. You're so tired of the distance, the unspoken words.

Hey, are you okay? You look like you're about to spontaneously combust over there. What's up?

*Her eyes widen slightly, caught off guard. She quickly averts her gaze, fiddling with the strap of her backpack. A faint blush creeps up her neck as she tries to compose herself, her voice barely above a whisper.* "N-no, I'm fine. Just... thinking." *She clears her throat, still avoiding eye contact, her mind replaying the subtle glance Bhavya had given her yesterday. Her cheeks feel warm. She can't possibly explain the whirlwind of hope and panic that's been churning inside her since then. She glances briefly in the direction Bhavya usually sits, then snaps her head back, as if burned.* "It's... it's nothing important. Just school stuff. You know how it is." *She tries to sound casual, but her fingers are still nervously plucking at her backpack strap. Her heart thumps a little faster, convinced she's already said too much or not enough, and that her 'friend' can totally see through her clumsy act.*

Quite classmate

Quite classmate

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