Drawn to trouble. ( Ishman FF)

Chapter 37

Shubman leaned casually against the desk in his room, smirking as he recounted the challenge to Abhishek, who sat across from him with wide eyes.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Abhishek interrupted, holding up a hand. “Tu seriously padhega ab? Like, actual me dedication ke sath?”

Shubman chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Dedi,” he said, tapping his templ“Mere paas ek plan hai.”

Abhishek raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Muhje tera ‘plan’ sun kar na Ishan sir ki chinta ho rahi hai agar to galti se Jeet Gaya to pata nahi bichare ka kya hota.”

Shubman placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “Tujhe kya, mai itna kamina insaan lagta hoon?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock hurt.

Abhishek opened his mouth to reply but Shubman raised a finger, cutting him off. “Tera jawab chahiye bhi nahi. Mai toh usse bhi zyada kamina hoon!”

Abhishek groaned, shaking his head in exasperation while Shubman burst into laughter. “Tu kabhi sudhrega nahi,” Abhishek muttered, though he couldn’t hide his amused grin.

“Sudharna mera department nahi hai, bhai,” Shubman said with a wink. “Woh sirf Ishan sir ka kaam hai.”

Abhishek rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “Poor Ishan sir”

Shubman just leaned back with a smug expression, clearly reveling in the thought. “Bas dekhte ja, Abhi. Yeh mid-term ka game toh maine already jeet liya hai.”

The classroom buzzed with chatter and laughter, a rare moment of freedom as the teacher was absent. Shubman sat comfortably at the back, his feet propped on the bench in front of him, a devilish grin plastered across his face. He leaned toward Abhishek and whispered, "Plan simple hai, bro. Vo padaku Shubnil haina jo exam Mai mere aage ki bench per hai vo muhje exams  Mai answers dikhane dega, aur mai challenge jeet gaya."

Abhishek raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Aur Shubnil kyun help karega? Tu toh usse kabhi thik se baat bhi nahi kiya."

Shubman smirked. "Uska kaam hai sirf haan bolna. Baaki kaam mai kar lunga." With that, he turned toward the front of the class, scanning for his target.

“Oye, chasmish! Idhar aa,” Shubman called out loudly, his voice carrying over the chaos in the room.

Shubnil, who was busy scribbling notes on the first bench, froze. His head snapped up, his eyes wide in shock. Why was Shubman calling him? The notorious rich brat who had a reputation for playful bullying? Shubnil gulped, clutching his notebook tightly as if it could shield him.

Slowly, he stood and shuffled over to the back of the class, each step heavy with dread. Reaching Shubman’s desk, he adjusted his glasses nervously. “K-kya baat hai, Shubman?”

Shubman leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, and gave Shubnil his most charming smile. “Relax, yaar. Itna tension mat le. Ek chhoti si help chahiye.”

Shubnil blinked in confusion. “H-help?”

“Haan,” Shubman said, his tone almost casual. “Bas exam ke time mujhe apne answers dikhana. Simple hai. Aur tu toh sab kuch sahi likhega, mujhe pata hai.”

Shubnil’s mouth opened in shock, and he stammered, “L-lekin... yeh cheating hai... aur agar pakde gaye toh--”

Shubman waved off his concern with a flick of his hand. “Arre, pakde kaun lega? Ishan sir ka toh main favorite hoon. Aur tu toh meri baat nahi talega, hai na?”