When you smile

Chapter 16

Dev's P.O.V.

Arya's absence weighs on me. Raj let me know that she couldn't make it today, swamped with urgent tasks. We've only known each other for a short while, but it feels like we've been friends forever. Arya effortlessly keeps conversations flowing, while I'm content to listen and soak it all in.

Raj and I, on the other hand, struggle to bridge the gap of silence between us. It's awkward and uncomfortable. We try to talk about the upcoming drama or our dads, but the conversations fizzle out quickly, forced and unnatural. I can't seem to relax or be myself around him, and it frustrates me to no end.

During the break, Raj heads to the auditorium to sort out the after-school meeting arrangements. Seeking respite from the prying eyes in the classroom, I make my way to the canteen. I can't help but wonder why my new classmates stare at me. Back in my old school, I understood the scrutiny because of the rumors that circulated about me, but here it feels unwarranted. Is staring ingrained in every Indian's blood or something?

The canteen is as crowded as usual, but it's manageable. I join the line at the counter, fully aware of what Arya said about the brevity of the break. Twenty minutes feels like a cruel joke when faced with this never-ending queue.

The canteen buzzes with activity, a hub of energy within the school. The air is filled with the mingling aromas of freshly brewed coffee, sizzling snacks, and the sweet scent of pastries. Laughter and chatter blend together, creating a vibrant symphony of voices that reverberates through the space.

Tables are scattered across the room, occupied by students engrossed in animated conversations or immersed in their own worlds, flipping through textbooks or scribbling notes. The clatter of trays and cutlery punctuates the lively ambiance, as students move about, juggling their plates and trays, searching for a spot to settle.

The walls are adorned with colorful posters, advertising upcoming events and showcasing student artwork. Soft background music drifts through the air, lending a soothing touch to the bustling environment. Sunlight streams in through the large windows, casting warm beams that dance across the room, illuminating the faces of those seated nearby.

The tired counter girl repeats the same question for what feels like the umpteenth time. Her smile seems forced and her weariness seeps through. I figure the usual older man who works here must be absent today. It's no wonder she's drained from saying the same thing over and over again with that rehearsed smile.

I scan the options, and my eyes land on the tantalizing pastry cakes peeking out from the glass display. The lemon cake catches my attention, its tangy aroma calling out to me. I point to it, indicating my choice. Her response is a curt nod, accompanied by an absentminded toss of her beautiful violet red hair. There's a tinge of annoyance in her movement, as if the vibrant locks have become a source of frustration amidst the repetitive nature of her job.

Taking a brief moment to study her drained expression, my sympathy for her grows. It must be exhausting for her to navigate through the interactions with boys who flirt and waste her time, an added burden on top of her repetitive tasks. The realization deepens my understanding of the weight she carries and evokes a sense of compassion within me.

"You're doing an amazing job," I remark, giving a genuine nod of approval to the group of boys. I truly mean it. If I were in her shoes, I would have given up by now. That's all I seem to do... give up. I'm an expert at it.

Her surprise turns into a genuine smile as she responds, "Thanks." And it's a real smile, not one of those forced ones. I can't help but notice how beautiful she looks when she smiles like that.

I turn my attention back to the canteen, now filled to the brim with students. There's barely a seat available. Where am I supposed to sit? I scan the area and my eyes land on a table at the back, occupied by just one guy. Isn't that strange? While everyone struggles to find a spot, that table is nearly empty. I make my way toward it, my gaze fixed on a piece of cake. The piece sits on a small plate, its presentation eye-catching and inviting. It boasts a golden-brown crust with delicate flaky layers that seem to whisper promises of melt-in-your-mouth goodness.