Arranged Love

30. Sweet Distraction

Disclaimer: All the characters written below are imaginary and a work of pure fiction. There is no resemblance to any incident or situation and is written as a work of fiction.

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AN:- HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!💫❤️

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Smriti's POV -

My shoulders slumped as they continued to mock me, their words chipping away at my self-esteem. I felt utterly defenseless, bullied by the very people I had hoped would be my friends in this new chapter of my life.

However, a flicker of determination ignited within me. I couldn't let their words define me especially after what I have gone through just to be here. Wiping the few traitorous tears that fell from my eyes, I took a deep breath. My gaze hardened as I looked into each one of their eyes, a fire kindling in my spirit.

"Maybe my age surprises you," I began, my voice steady, "but my resolve is far stronger. Your words might sting, but they won't break me. I'm here to learn, grow, and succeed. If that doesn't fit into your idea of what's acceptable, that's your problem, not mine."

With that, I gathered my belongings and left the class, not bothering to even spare a glance at their shocked faces.

The others, probably fuming with rage, were left in stunned silence. My departure was not a retreat but a declaration-a declaration that I would rise above their petty judgments and prove myself on my terms.

I started walking down the stairs, surrounded by the murmur of students forging new connections in this unfamiliar place. Exiting my block, I felt an unsettling sensation of being followed. Glancing behind, the surroundings appeared normal, bustling with students. Brushing it off, I continued my way, deciding to retreat to the garden to have lunch and escape the chaos.

The steps persisted, a sense of unease creeping over me. As I reached the garden and settled into a quiet corner, the echoes of the recent unpleasant incident replayed in my mind. Tears threatened to resurface, betraying the strength I sought to hold onto. A single tear trickled down my left cheek, wiped away in recollection of the hardships I and even Vivek has endured to get me here.

In my mind echoed Vivek's proud words, emphasizing how far I'd come to chase my dream of becoming a product designer. I couldn't afford to let him down, nor his family, and most importantly, not myself. With a heavy sigh, I checked the time on my phone, realizing I had a mere 15 minutes to finish lunch and return to class.

As I began unpacking my lunch, the tiffin box was abruptly snatched from my hands. Turning to confront the person who did so, I saw a group of students-probably a year or two younger than me but considerably taller-smirking as they held my lunchbox hostage. My initial frown transformed into a forced smile as I tried to maintain a semblance of politeness.

"What do you want?" I inquired, my voice tempered by a mix of confusion and annoyance.

The gang, numbering around ten, erupted into laughter. Before I could discern their motives or articulate my concerns, they swiftly pilfered my phone. Rising from my seat to challenge this intrusion, I found myself pushed back by a girl of my stature, her actions suggesting a coordinated effort among this group.

"Keep your hands away from me." Undeterred by the sudden turn of events, I squared my shoulders and asserted in a tone meant to defy their attempts at intimidation .