The Classy Thirteen

Mission: Behan Ko Bachao

Sarthak's POV

There are some things that remain untouched by time. And for me, it was this canteen. Same aluminum chairs, same cracked corner on our table, and that familiar aroma of over-buttered sandwiches mixed with cold coffee. It was weirdly comforting. Even after everything that happened in London—the madness, the travel, the chaos—I still found this spot strangely peaceful.

I was the first one to arrive today, which, let me tell you, was rare. Usually, I was the one who texted, "5 minutes late, aa raha hoon," and then appeared 25 minutes later. But today? Sharp at 8:45 AM. Felt like I deserved a badge of honor.

I glanced around and spotted Hayley near the billing counter. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, sleeves rolled, frown intact. Typical Monday vibes. Except—something felt off. Even from a distance, she looked... defeated. And honestly, that wasn’t like her. Hayley was the queen of sarcasm, the roastmaster of the cafeteria. Seeing her quiet was like watching Sarthak not crack a joke—wait, bad example.

I walked up, careful not to sound nosy, and said, "Hey...uh, sab thik? Rohit kahan hai aaj?"

She didn’t even look at me. "We broke up," she said in a tone that landed somewhere between casual and crushed. "I don't know where he is."

I stood frozen. Wait. WHAT?! They literally went to a wedding together. She posted a story dancing with him on "Tera Ban Jaunga" in ethnic clothes. I mean, they were couple goals. And now? Poof?

But I didn’t ask further. It didn’t seem right. Her voice carried weight, and I respected that. "Okay... uh, you need anything, you know where our table is," I said and backed off like a socially awkward cat.

I returned to the table, took a sip of my tea, and tried to digest this breakup bomb. My playlist of thoughts was interrupted as familiar voices filled the room.

Sara and Samyra entered together, giggling about something probably not even remotely funny. Samyra, spotting me, waved exaggeratedly.

"Oye hero, solo breakfast chal raha tha? Humein yaad nahi kiya?" Sara teased, sliding into the chair opposite mine.

"Main toh yahan meditation karne aaya tha, par tum logon ki awazein sunke woh bhi bhag gaya," I replied dramatically.

Next came Vivaan and Prerna, hand in hand. Vivaan looked unusually fresh for someone who partied till 2 AM the night before.

"Kya lag raha hai banda honeymoon se wapas aaya ho," I muttered under my breath.

Then came Aakarsh and Reyan, having what looked like an intense conversation about the new Marvel series. Probably debating if Thanos deserved better.

Shayar entered next, walking beside Sahil, who, by the way, was complaining about how his shampoo had mysteriously disappeared.

"Bhai, main keh raha hoon, koi hai jo mera shampoo chupke le jaata hai," Sahil whined.

"Haan, aur next time tera toothpaste bhi udaan bhar lega," I added.

Then, just when I thought everyone was in, Mayank walked in—with someone.

And not just any someone.

Hot pink. Sleek straight hair. Nails longer than my to-do list. Confidence that could kill.

Wait.

WAIT.

"OH MY GOD! RAKSHITA PATIL!" I half-shouted, standing up.

She saw me and her face lit up like a 90s Diwali ad. She ran to me and we hugged.

"Sarthakkk! Tu itna bada ho gaya hai!"