What after That?

Ch 30.

It was another day at school, and as usual, Shubman was nowhere to be found during the free period. 

He had darted off to play with his friends, leaving Ishan behind in the classroom. Ishan wasn't particularly bothered by it; he was used to Shubman's antics by now. 

His head was down, lost in a doodle on the last page of his notebook. The quiet scribbling of his pen was calming, a small distraction from the hum of the classroom around him.

Absentmindedly, Ishan's hand drifted toward Shubman's bag, sitting casually beside his own. He wasn't even sure why he was doing it, but his fingers traced the surface of the bag, feeling for the solid box-like shape inside. 

Sure enough, Shubman had brought his lunch today. But as Ishan pressed down lightly on the bag, he knew immediately that the lunchbox was empty, again. 

A small, knowing smile crept onto his face.

He gave it away again, didn't he? Ishan thought, shaking his head softly. 

Shubman's secret kindness was something that Ishan had started to admire in his own quiet way, even if the boy never admitted to it.

Just as Ishan was lost in his thoughts, a conversation from a few benches ahead caught his attention. 

At first, he wasn't paying any mind to it—just typical school chatter. But then, one word, or rather one name, made his ears perk up like a rabbit's.

Shubman.

Suddenly, Ishan was listening intently.

"Oyee... wo Shubman hai na... bhai, wo theek nahi hai..." one boy said, his voice carrying over to Ishan's ears.

"Haan bhai, maine suna usne Niya ko kuchh comment kiya tha..." the other added, snickering.

"Waise to bada hero bana firta hai, but raha to wo—"

Ishan didn't even realize it, but his fists had clenched, and his brow furrowed deeply. Shubman? They were talking about Shubman, but what they were saying didn't make sense.

He may be annoying at times, always fooling around, but he was never disrespectful to anyone, especially not girls. Ishan knew that much.

Without thinking, Ishan stood up, his body moving on its own out of sheer frustration. He walked towards the group, each step heavier than the last. 

His chest tightened with anger, a strange feeling bubbling up inside him. Why was he getting so mad about this?

When he reached the boys, Ishan's voice came out sharper than he had intended. "Shubman aisa bilkul bhi nahi hai!"

The boys turned to him, surprised by his sudden outburst. "Bhai, hum tujhe thodi bol rahe hain..." one of them mumbled, clearly taken aback.

Ishan wasn't having it. His voice lowered, but his tone stayed firm. "Tum use bhi nahi bol sakte! Aur tum hote kaun ho Shubman aisa hai, Shubman waisa hai bolne waale.." His glare hardened. 

"Hume pata hai Shubman kaisa hai... wo tumse bahut achha insaan hai... aur tabhi wo hume pasand hai."

The words had slipped out before Ishan could even process them. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stood there, frozen. Wait. What had he just said? His heart started racing, thudding loudly in his chest.

"Aur tabhi wo hume pasand hai...?" His own voice echoed in his head.

The boy who had been talking raised his hands in surrender. "Achha bhai, galti ho gayi... jaa." They weren't looking for a fight.