I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sleek lines of my wine-red dress. It brushed just above my knees—simple but elegant, like it was made for a night like this. My hair was pulled back into a neat bun, which made me feel sharp, ready for the night.

Tonight wasn't just any dinner. It was a celebration—one that marked a lot of hard work and success, mine and Abhimanyu's.

I slipped on my matching red pumps and stared at my reflection. "Not bad, Vani," I muttered, tilting my head, studying the bun from every angle. A hint of excitement bubbled in my chest. This is it. Time to shine!

"Vani, it's time to head down!" Dad's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Coming!" I grabbed my phone and bag, gave myself one last glance, and headed down.

As soon as I reached the living room, both of my parents turned toward me. My mom's eyes lit up immediately.

"Oh, Vani, you look stunning! This dress is perfect," she said, beaming with pride.

I shrugged a little, feeling my cheeks warm. Her approval means the world to me. "Thanks, Mom."

My dad gave me a quick nod, the corner of his mouth curling up. "You've got every reason to be proud tonight. You earned it, champ!"

The way he said it made my heart swell. "Thanks, Dad," I replied, my voice quieter.

We drove through the bustling city streets toward the restaurant Mrs. Sharma had reserved for the night. It was a fine dining place, the kind you don't just walk into. You need a plan. And clearly, Mrs. Sharma had one.

***

We arrived, and as we walked through the grand doors, a hostess greeted us and led us to our table. It was nestled in the far corner, next to a tall window that overlooked the dimly lit streets. There, seated at a table for six, were the Sharmas.

Abhimanyu's parents smiled warmly as they saw us approaching, but it was his eyes I felt first. He didn't just glance up—he stared. His gaze held me, as though he'd forgotten how to look at anything else. What's his deal? And when I finally looked back, it felt like he was seeing me for the first time. Why is he staring like that?

I let out a quiet breath, stealing a glance his way. He was dressed in a light blue shirt, tucked into crisp white pants, his curls perfectly in place. Of course, the stupid noodles. I could almost laugh thinking about how much time he spent making them look like that.

Mrs. Sharma stood, her face bright as she greeted my parents. "Avantika, you look absolutely lovely tonight!" She gave out a warm hug before she reached for a small velvet box from her purse and presented it to me. "We wanted to give you this as a small token for your achievement."

"Oh," I stammered, surprised. Inside the box lay a delicate necklace with a single stone pendant. "It's beautiful. Thank you, auntie!"

"Would you mind wearing it?" Mrs. Sharma asked sweetly. "I think it goes beautifully with your dress."

I glanced at my mom, who gave me a small nod of approval. "Of course, I'd love to." I smiled, and Mrs. Sharma eagerly helped fasten the necklace around my neck.

Once the necklace was in place, I felt a strange shift in the air. Abhimanyu murmured something under his breath, his voice barely audible, but I caught it.

"Looks nice on you, Vani."

I blinked, caught off guard. Wait, was that... a compliment? From him? His eyes lingered on me for a second longer, and I almost forgot to respond. What is going on with him tonight?

"Thanks," I mumbled, looking away before my face could give me away.

***

We placed our orders, and as the conversation settled in, my dad cleared his throat. 

"We wanted to congratulate you too, Manyu," he said, pulling out a sleek black box from under his jacket.

"For me?" Abhimanyu blinked, momentarily confused. He didn't move until Dad pushed the box across the table.

"It's a little something from us for your achievement." Dad smiled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Avantika picked it out, actually."

Seriously? Out loud? I felt my cheeks burn as all eyes turned toward me. Couldn't he have left that part out?

Abhimanyu's eyes lit up, amusement flickering behind them. He opened the box to reveal a wristwatch, its dark leather strap and polished face catching the soft light of the restaurant. He turned to me with a grin, lifting the watch from the box.

"You've got good taste, Vani." He slipped it onto his wrist with practiced ease, the smile never leaving his face. "I'm impressed."

Oh god, here we go. I could feel the heat rising to my face. "I-it wasn't a big deal," I muttered, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. Why does he have to say things like that?

But Abhimanyu wasn't done. "You think it'll make me look good?" he asked, his voice playful, testing.

Is he seriously fishing for compliments right now? 

"You're hopeless," I replied, rolling my eyes. But the teasing glint in his gaze made my heart stutter.

***

As dinner arrived, the table was filled with bowls of fragrant rice, warm naan, and an array of curries and vegetables. The conversation flowed easily between our families, filled with pride and laughter. Everything felt so perfect in this moment—the food, the company, the sense of accomplishment. Maybe this is what success feels like.

Halfway through the meal, Mom turned to Abhimanyu with a curious look. "Manyu, are you excited about starting hostel life at Blackthorn? I'm sure it's going to be a big change."

Abhimanyu leaned back in his chair, nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that. It'll definitely be different from home, but I'm looking forward to it. No home-cooked meals during the week though..." he trailed off, grinning at his mom.

Mrs. Sharma chuckled softly. "You'll survive, Manyu. Blackthorn's hostel life is part of the experience. Builds resilience."

Abhimanyu's gaze flicked to me, and for a second, I could almost see a challenge behind those stupid curls. "Yeah, we'll see about that. Besides, I'm sure Vani will take good care of me."

What? I shot him a sidelong glance, leaned in slightly, and whispered, "Oh, absolutely. I'll make sure to add 'personal chef & nanny' to my already busy schedule." Does he really think I'll be doing anything for him?

Abhimanyu's eyes sparkled with amusement, and he let out a soft chuckle. "Touché," he replied, his tone light and acknowledging the jab. He's enjoying this way too much. But I won't let him get the upper hand.

***

As we were finishing up, a familiar face passed by our table. I almost didn't notice him at first, but the sharp features and solemn expression caught my attention. Rahul Verma? He was walking with a couple, his parents, I assumed.

"Rahul?" I called out, waving to him.

But he didn't even glance my way. He just kept walking as though he hadn't heard me. Weird.

Beside me, Abhimanyu leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "Guess you're not that memorable."

I shot him a look. "Don't be a jerk."

He smirked, leaning back dramatically in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Ouch. Just saying." Does he ever stop with these comments?

As the evening wound down, our parents stood up to leave, heading outside to get the cars. I excused myself, telling Abhimanyu I'd catch up after I went to the restroom.

"You should go," I told him, standing up. "I won't take long."

But he just leaned back in his chair, his eyes on me again. "I'm not in a rush."

Why did he have to be like this?

I made my way to the restroom, but just as I was about to enter, a small hand tugged at the edge of my dress. I turned to see Rahul, his face pale, his eyes wide.

"Rahul? What—"

He quickly shoved a crumpled napkin into my hand, his gaze darting around the room. Then, without another word, he hurried off, disappearing into the crowd. What's going on with him?

I stepped into the restroom, closing the door behind me. My heart raced as I leaned against the sink, unfolding the napkin. The note read:

Meet me tomorrow at the park, 6 AM. I need to show you something. Don't tell anyone.

My pulse quickened. What could Rahul possibly want? And why was he being so secretive?

This wasn't just a casual request. This was something bigger. But what?

I stuffed the napkin into my bag, my mind racing with questions. Should I go? What if this is something really serious? As I walked back to the table, I caught Abhimanyu's gaze. He raised an eyebrow as if sensing something had shifted. And for a second, I knew that whatever lay ahead would change everything. I couldn't shake the feeling that tomorrow might be the start of something I wasn't ready for.

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A u t h o r's   N o t e

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