(Aryan's POV)
The problem with curiosity was that it never stayed curiosity for long. At least, not for me.
Ever since I had overheard Hriday and Sameer talking about Vini's quiz selection, the information had refused to leave my head. It lingered there constantly, surfacing at the most inconvenient moments. During lectures, while riding my bike, while wrapping my hands before training, even while trying to fall asleep at night. Every new thing I learned about her seemed to make the situation worse instead of better.
A CA student.
Brilliant with numbers.
Selected for an inter-college quiz competition.
The facts themselves weren't extraordinary. College campuses were full of talented people. Every department had its toppers, its star students, its overachievers. Yet for some reason, when it came to Vini, every little detail felt significant. Every new piece of information felt like another piece of a puzzle I hadn't realized I was trying to solve.
And that irritated me more than I cared to admit.
I wasn't supposed to care this much.
I had my own life. My own goals. My own routine. For years, my world had followed a simple structure-boxing, classes, friends, training, repeat. Everything had a place. Everything made sense. I liked it that way.
Yet somehow, a girl I had never properly spoken to had managed to occupy more space inside my head than people I had known for years.
The realization annoyed me enough that I spent nearly an extra hour at the gym that morning.
The heavy bag swung violently with every punch I threw. Sweat dripped down my forehead and onto the mats below. My knuckles burned despite the wraps around my hands. My muscles screamed from overexertion, but I welcomed the pain. Usually, training had a way of silencing unnecessary thoughts. It forced my focus back into my body. Back into the present.
Not today.
Today, my mind refused to cooperate.
The quiz was happening in a few hours.
And despite every attempt to act indifferent, I knew exactly what time it started.
I knew exactly where it was being held.
I knew exactly which auditorium had been booked for the event.
And worst of all, I already knew I was going.
Not because of the quiz.
Definitely not because of the quiz.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
By afternoon, the campus looked unusually alive. Students from different departments moved around in groups, discussing the event, comparing participants, making predictions about who would win. Conversations buzzed from every corner. Even professors seemed more relaxed than usual.
When I reached our usual spot in the courtyard, I found Vikram, Sameer, and Hriday already occupying the bench beneath the old neem tree. The moment Vikram noticed me approaching, a grin appeared on his face.
"Ready?" he asked.
I dropped my bag beside the bench and frowned.
"For what?"
Sameer immediately burst out laughing.
"He's pretending again."
"I genuinely don't know what you're talking about."
"Liar."
Hriday shook his head dramatically and looked up at the sky as if asking for divine patience.
"You know," he said, "for someone who boxes, you're surprisingly bad at taking punches."
I narrowed my eyes.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means," Sameer announced, standing up like he was delivering a speech to an audience, "that our dear Aryan is absolutely terrified of admitting he wants to watch his future wife's quiz competition."
Vikram laughed so hard he nearly dropped his phone.
I glared at all of them.
"I don't want to watch Vini's quiz."
"Oh?" Sameer folded his arms.
"No."
"Then don't come."
"Fine."
"Okay."
"Okay."
There was a brief pause.
Sameer smirked.
"See you at the auditorium then."
I hated all three of them.
Unfortunately, an hour later, I was sitting in the auditorium exactly where Sameer predicted I would be.
The place was packed.
Rows upon rows of students filled the seats. Faculty members occupied the front rows while organizers rushed around making final preparations. The air carried that familiar combination of nervous energy and excitement that always accompanied competitions. Some contestants sat revising notes. Others talked among themselves. Audience members filled the hall with conversations and laughter.
I tried acting uninterested.
I really did.
I leaned back in my seat. Folded my arms. Pretended to focus on the stage setup.
But my eyes kept drifting toward the participants' section.
Searching.
Waiting.
Looking.
And then I saw her.
For a moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background.
Vini stood near the participants' area, speaking to another contestant. She wasn't dressed extravagantly. She wasn't trying to stand out. There was nothing flashy about her appearance. Yet somehow she stood out more than anyone else there.
Her hair fell neatly over one shoulder. A notebook rested in her hand. While several contestants around her looked visibly nervous, constantly checking notes or pacing around, she looked calm.
Not nervous.
Not restless.
Not panicked.
Just focused.
As though pressure was something she had already learned how to carry.
As though she belonged exactly where she was.
Something about that made it impossible to look away.
"Bro."
I ignored it.
"Aryan."
Still ignored it.
"Aryan."
"What?"
Sameer was grinning like an idiot.
"You've been staring for five minutes."
I immediately looked away.
"I wasn't."
"Sure."
"I wasn't."
"Sure."
At that moment, I genuinely considered throwing him out of the auditorium.
(Poor Sameer🥺)
Thankfully, the competition began before I could act on the thought.
The host welcomed everyone, explained the rules, and soon the first round was underway. Questions flashed across the large screen. Contestants pressed buzzers. Answers were given. Scores appeared.
And through it all, Vini remained composed.
I had expected her to be smart.
What I hadn't expected was this.
The speed with which she processed information was ridiculous.
Before some contestants even seemed to understand the question, she was already reaching for the buzzer. Her answers came quickly but never sounded rushed. Confident but never arrogant. Every response seemed precise, calculated, and effortless.
The audience noticed too.
Whispers spread through the rows.
Students exchanged impressed looks.
Even a few faculty members appeared pleasantly surprised.
Meanwhile, I found myself watching with growing admiration.
Not because she was winning.
But because of how natural she made it look.
There was no showing off.
No need for attention.
No dramatic reactions.
She simply answered the questions and moved on.
Like excellence was something she carried quietly.
Like being extraordinary was normal for her.
Halfway through the competition, something else caught my attention.
A voice.
Loud.
Enthusiastic.
Familiar.
"Come on, Vini!"
My gaze shifted automatically toward the source.
And landed on someone I recognized.
Shrey.
I frowned slightly. Why is he cheering for my vini?
For a second, I couldn't understand why seeing him there felt strange.
Then the answer arrived almost immediately.
Of course.
He was supporting her.
The realization should have been simple. Normal.
Yet something about it made me continue watching.
Shrey stood near the aisle, completely invested in the competition. Every correct answer from Vini earned an immediate reaction. Every point scored made him grin like he had won something himself. At one stage, he clapped so loudly that several students turned around to look at him.
He didn't seem to care.
And that was when I realized something.
I knew Shrey.
Not closely.
But enough.
We were in the same class.
Had been for months.
There had been attendance discussions.
Group assignments.
Random conversations before lectures.
Casual interactions between classes.
Nothing significant.
Nothing memorable.
Until now.
As the competition continued, I found myself noticing something I had somehow never paid attention to before.
The familiarity.
The comfort.
The ease.
Whenever Vini looked toward the audience, her gaze naturally drifted toward the section where Shrey was sitting. Whenever she answered something difficult correctly, he looked prouder than half the people present.
And somehow...
That bothered me.
Not because they were doing anything wrong.
They weren't.
They looked like close friends.
That's all.
But even that felt strange.
Because until now, I had never really imagined her having someone that close.
In my head, she had always existed separately.
Almost isolated.
A quiet mystery I observed from a distance.
But now she suddenly felt real.
Connected.
Part of friendships and relationships I knew absolutely nothing about.
And the person standing closest to those connections appeared to be Shrey.
Eventually, the final round ended.
The auditorium erupted into applause.
Vini's team had performed brilliantly.
Students immediately began standing up. Conversations exploded around the room. Chairs scraped against the floor. People discussed scores, answers, and results.
The competition was over.
Yet I remained seated for a few moments longer.
Watching.
Almost without realizing it.
I saw Vini step down from the stage. Faculty members stopped her to congratulate her. A few classmates approached her.
And then Shrey appeared.
Naturally.
Effortlessly.
Like he belonged there.
He handed her a water bottle.
Said something.
Vini laughed.
Not the polite smile she gave teachers.
Not the formal expression she used during the competition.
A real laugh.
Comfortable.
Easy.
The kind reserved for people she genuinely liked.
Something unpleasant twisted inside my chest.
A feeling I couldn't name.
And honestly, didn't want to examine.
"Let's go."
Hriday's voice broke through my thoughts.
I stood immediately.
The four of us began walking toward the exit. But before leaving, I glanced back one final time.
Just once.
And once again, I found Shrey standing beside her.
Talking.
Smiling.
Existing in a space I had never entered.
For the rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Not the quiz.
Not the competition.
Not even Vini's performance.
What stayed with me was something else entirely.
A face I had seen countless times before but never really noticed.
Shrey Mehta.
A classmate.
Someone ordinary.
Someone familiar.
And suddenly...
Someone I found myself paying attention to.
For reasons I wasn't quite ready to admit.
End of Chapter 5
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