What after That?

Ch 23.

The hallway was buzzing with murmurs and theories. Whispers passed from one group of students to another, trying to piece together what had happened between Shubman and Abhi—the inseparable duo. 

Two days ago, they were seen laughing, sharing snacks like usual, and now? They had a full-blown fight.

"Maybe it's because of some girl?" one student speculated, while another chimed in, "No way! Shubman isn't like that."

Simran, sitting quietly at her desk, clenched her fists, still feeling the anger boiling inside her. The words Shubman had carelessly read out in front of the class echoed in her mind. 

How could he do that? The humiliation burned her cheeks, and as she blinked, she felt the sting of unshed tears threatening to fall. But she wouldn't cry, not here, not in front of everyone.

Meanwhile, two days earlier...

Abhi was lounging in his room, absentmindedly scrolling through Facebook on his sister Komal's phone. He had claimed he needed to use it to call Shubman, but the truth was, he just wanted to kill some time.

As he swiped through posts and pictures, his eyes caught something that made him stop—Shubman's recent post. It was a simple photo, nothing too special, but what caught Abhi's attention was the list of people who had liked it.

His eyes squinted as he scrolled to the bottom of the like section and saw something unexpected. A name that made him pause. Simran Desai.

"Simran?" Abhi muttered to himself, his curiosity piqued. "Simran has a Facebook account?!" A grin crept across his face. 

This will be great. He knew Simran was a bit of a mystery, and the fact that she had a Facebook account meant he could finally reach out to her. 

His mind started racing, imagining all the things he could talk about. He quickly jotted down her Facebook ID on a piece of paper, careful not to forget.

Just then, Komal walked into the room, and Abhi quickly pocketed the piece of paper. "Hey, you done with my phone?" she asked, suspicion lacing her voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm done. Just calling Shubman, like I said," Abhi lied smoothly, handing her the phone.

Later that night, when the house was quiet, and everyone was asleep, Abhi quietly snuck into Komal's room. His heart pounded in his chest as he gingerly took her phone from the bedside table. 

Don't wake up... don't wake up... 

He tiptoed back to his room, shut the door, and sat down on his bed with a victorious grin.

Unlocking the phone, Abhi quickly opened Facebook and typed Simran's name into the search bar. Her profile popped up immediately—no posts, just a simple profile picture. His fingers hovered over the message button for a moment. What should I say? He tapped his foot nervously, then shrugged.

Just be casual, he thought to himself, typing out the message.

Abhi: "Hey, are you Simran Desai?"

He hit send and waited. The seconds felt like hours as he stared at the screen, the message "seen" appearing in a matter of moments. His heart skipped a beat when the reply finally came.

Simran: "Yes... I am."

Her response was sarcastic, laced with annoyance, but Abhi, oblivious to the tone, grinned widely. She responded! His excitement overrode any sense of caution, and he quickly began typing again, completely missing the subtle irritation in her message.