Chaos Theory - Kamala Shastri's Final Act

Scene 2

Maybe Kamala should have been more vocal about it.

Because the next day, "Curls" was back in the same spot, her books sprawled everywhere like she owned the place.

Kamala's eyes narrowed in distaste as she watched the girl settle in.

The library was calm, filled with the soft rustling of pages turning and the occasional whisper of students discussing their assignments.

Perhaps Kamala should have outright told her that she didn't appreciate her presence there. Instead, she chose a more passive-aggressive approach.

With a scrunched nose, Kamala slammed her books onto the table, the noise echoing through the quiet library and disrupting Curls, who was deeply engrossed in her studies.

Curls jumped at the sudden disturbance and looked up, only to see Kamala smiling sweetly.

Holding her gaze, Kamala purposefully screeched her chair as she sat down, flashing another overly sweet smile.

"Oops," Kamala smiled.

Without wasting another second, Kamala opened her books and delved into her work, completely ignoring the now-disturbed Curls.

Kamala's fingers flew over the pages, her mind laser-focused, but she couldn't shake off her irritation at Curls' presence.

This routine continued for a week. Every day, Kamala would slam her books down, and every day, Curls would return to the same spot.

To Kamala's annoyance, Curls even started smiling at her-a soft, genuine smile that only fueled Kamala's frustration.

Kamala now openly glared at her, but Curls remained unbothered. How infuriating.

What she noticed, though, was Curls' had a huge fan base.

Ever since Curls began sitting there, a bunch of boys started lurking nearby-not at their table but close enough to steal glances at Curls while pretending to study.

Kamala's eyes roamed over the scene in disbelief. Who knew so many boys suddenly had a passion for academic excellence? She thought she might be hallucinating.

It didn't take long for Kamala to figure it out: the boys were there for Curls.

Amused yet slightly annoyed, Kamala openly glared at them, but Curls remained blissfully unbothered. Kamala concluded that Curls was either completely unbothered or just an oblivious dumbhead.

But her doubts cleared when one day a boy nervously approached their table. Kamala, deeply absorbed in her book, reluctantly looked up to see who the interruption was this time.

The boy locked eyes with her, and Kamala stared back, unimpressed. He quickly shifted his gaze to Curls.

Oh, he's going to ask her out. Kamala thought, leaning back in her chair to watch the unfolding drama. This better be good.

"Hi, Maya," he stuttered. Maya. So that's her name.

Maya glanced up at him, her expression blank.

"I-I was wondering..." he began, his nerves palpable.

Pathetic. Kamala silently scoffed.

Maya blinked at him, waiting patiently.

"Ice cream treat?" he finally managed to ask.

"Don't like sweets," Maya curtly replied, cutting him off. Strike one.