Waiting for the Sun ☀️

Chapter 1 - Hot-Headed

The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the small, bustling town of Nathdwara, where 17-year-old Akshara found herself brimming with a mixture of nerves and resentment. She stood in her modest bedroom, stuffing her life into a couple of battered suitcases. Her mother, Anushka, bustled about the house with a fresh energy, her optimism contrasting sharply with Akshara's heavy heart. Today was a moving day—a day Anushka had eagerly awaited but one Akshara dreaded, as it marked the end of her quiet life here and the beginning of a new one in Udaipur.

Akshara was the sun of their close-knit family, the one who kept everyone laughing, and she knew her departure would feel like the dimming of that light. In the hallway, her mother's voice rang out as she talked on the phone with her best friend, Katrina, the director of the prestigious Elite High in Udaipur. Katrina had pulled every string she could to get Anushka a job, and the move to Udaipur offered not only financial relief but also an opportunity for Akshara to attend one of the best schools in the country. Elite High.

Outside, the dawn broke over the town in soft shades of pink and gold. Anushka, dressed in a simple cream saree with a thin, red border—a modest yet elegant outfit for their journey—could barely contain her excitement as she paced around the living room, her phone pressed to her ear.

"Katrina, you've saved us," Anushka said gratefully, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "Akshara's been... packing her things all night. She's thrilled, of course."

In Akshara's room, however, it was anything but "thrilled." A pile of half-folded clothes lay on her bed, and she hadn't even thought about packing her favorite books yet. Instead, she sat on the edge of her bed, glancing at a framed photo on her dresser. Her father, Rahul, a soldier who'd passed away when she was only ten, looked back at her with his usual stern but gentle expression. She lifted the photo, holding it to her chest with a sigh, as her mother's voice grew distant.

"Akshara? Akshara!" her mother's calls echoed down the hallway. But by then, Akshara was already out the door.

_

Meanwhile, in Udaipur, the vast halls of Elite High filled with the sound of echoing footsteps and muffled conversation as students in their tailored, navy-blue blazers and crimson ties milled about the grounds. The uniform was immaculate, expensive—a mark of old money and tradition—and each student wore it with a blend of pride and nonchalance. With its soaring ivory pillars and sprawling lawns, the school looked more like an ancient palace than an educational institution.

Katrina Sharma, the school's headmistress and Anushka's old friend, was reviewing a stack of student files when a knock interrupted her thoughts. She barely looked up as she answered, "Come in."

Abhimanyu Birla strode into the room, his presence filling the space with an undeniable air of arrogance. Tall and striking, with a chiseled jaw and dark eyes that seemed to smolder with impatience, he was dressed in his Elite High uniform. Despite its strict formality, he managed to wear it in a way that was unmistakably his own—his tie slightly loose, shirt untucked at one side, as if to say the rules didn't quite apply to him. Katrina's welcoming smile vanished the moment she saw his expression.

"Abhimanyu," she greeted, her tone clipped, "to what do I owe this... visit?"

"My car," he replied, his voice icy. "Someone scratched it this morning, and my driver saw the culprit. Brown hair, about 170 centimeters. A student from this school."

Katrina raised an eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this, Abhimanyu?"

"So you'll find him for me," he replied, as if it were obvious.

"Did this happen on school grounds?"

"No," he snapped, looking at her as if she were dense. "But a student from here did it."