OMG, y'all! Mid-term grades just dropped. Buckle up, peeps, it's gonna be a wild ride ahead!

The Imperial University Chronicles

April 18th

~ The final warning~

Sanjana Thapar

I failed.

No surprise there.

I marched over to the boy's dormitory, finding it practically deserted as most students were at the cafeteria for dinner.

Unlike a lot of other Indian educational institutions, Imperial University actually allocated one room per person and allowed female and male students to visit each other's dormitories. Though not officially sanctioned, couples often lived together in each other's rooms without any issues.

Approaching the common area of the fourth floor, I spotted a cluster of my brother's friends, lounging in their familiar spots.

Ayushman Nayyar, one of my brother's closest friends on campus, noticed me first. He greeted me with his trade-mark grin. "Hey there, pretty girl."

While Ayushman and I indulged in some friendly light hearted flirting, we knew better.

My brother wouldn't have taken it lightly if he caught wind of me dating any of his friends. Despite being 12 minutes younger, he always asserted his big-brother authority while denying me even the slightest advantage of being the elder sibling.

"Hey, Is my brother around?" I inquired, hands tucked in my hoodie's pocket. "He isn't answering his phone."

"Saksham is in his room," Ayushman offered.

As I turned to head there, another guy piped up.. "But–"

I narrowed my eyes at Ayushman who gave his friends a subtle shake of his head. "But what?" I asked, frowning.

"Nothing," he replied, with a wide smile.

I rolled my eyes, exasperated by the men in my life. My brother's room was just down the hallway. Conversations ceased behind me, replaced by stares. Ignoring them, I knocked. No response. I knocked again, hearing only a clatter. Leaning closer, I strained to listen.

It took only a second to recognize the faint sounds. I stepped away from the door, horrified. "He's in there with a girl, isn't he?" I snapped at the men who were now hollering. They high-fived each other like it was the funniest prank they had ever pulled.

Meanwhile I was ready to vomit. I wasn't a prude and I knew that my brother was popular amongst the ladies, but encountering living proof that my brother had sex were two different things.

"You all are disgusting," I spat out as I began stomping away. "Tell him I'm waiting at the cafeteria and he better get his ass down there soon."

"Don't worry," one of them yelled out. "They have been at it for a while so they'll come soon."

I wondered if I could get some bleach in the janitor's closet so I could cleanse my ears.

The cafeteria hummed with its usual lively atmosphere, filled with the chatter and laughter of students. As I made my way through the bustling crowd, I spotted Maya and my other friends already in line.

"Where were you?" Maya's voice cut through the noise as she passed me an empty plate.

"I got a call from home," I answered evasively. Filling my plate with a hearty serving of pasta, I couldn't help but add an extra sprinkle of cheese. Avoiding people's curious gazes, I placed two slices of pastries– one chocolate and one red-velvet, on my plate.

Normally, I steered clear of carb-heavy meals, but tonight was an exception.

As we made our way to our usual table, I caught sight of Varun sitting in the corner near the entrance, accompanied by Tabassum Khan. They seemed to be attached to the hip this semester. "Are they dating or something?"

She shrugged. "Who cares?"

Exactly. Who cared? I certainly didn't.

Saksham and his gang arrived 20 minutes later. Grabbing their dinner trays, they made their way to our table. He settled beside me. Noticing the way he smirked, I vowed to torture him the same way very soon.

"What's going on?" he asked, observing the way I was voraciously eating my dinner.

I scanned our table, thankfully everyone was engrossed in their own conversations. "Dadu called," I whispered, leaning in closer to him. "Apparently the university sent home a letter."

He paused mid-bite, his expression shifting to one of concern. "What letter?"

"Kabir Dhananjay wants to meet with my guardian this Monday because I failed one of the midterms," I disclosed, my voice still low. It wasn't that I was embarrassed, but I didn't want anyone's nose in my business.

"You failed?" he asked, his jaw slacked with disbelief.

"Why are you overreacting? It's not like it's the first time," I retorted with a nonchalant shrug.

"You knew how important these tests were, Sanju," he scolded.

"It was just one exam!"I defended myself. It wasn't as if Saksham was a model student either. The only reason he bothered with exams at all was to cling to his beloved the university's cricket captianancy. "And it's not even entirely my fault."

"It's never your fault. The entire world is at fault, but never you," he taunted. "Anyway, I'm sure Dadu will handle it. He knows the trustees, so chill."

"Savi saw the letter."

His jaw clenched momentarily before he shrugged dismissively. "So? It's not like she's going to rat you out to Dad, and even if she does, he's got bigger fish to fry."

That was true. Perhaps I was overreacting. After all, our father always had a hectic schedule filled with important meetings and responsibilities. It seemed unlikely he'd drop everything for what might be perceived as a trivial matter to him, even if it could potentially shape my future and, by extension, my entire life.

___

Turns out, I should've trusted my instincts, because when Monday rolled in, I sat across from my grandfather, my father and his girlfriend, Savi at a cafeteria in town. She had indeed ratted me out to my father.

Instead of being happy to see me after nearly 150 days, my father seemed irritated. After meeting with Dhananjay, his body language had turned even more annoyed.

I stared at my pale pink nail polish to distract myself, unable to shake off that nagging sense of impending doom.

"Can I get you anything else?" the server asked, as he placed our coffee orders in front of us.

"No, thank you," Savi replied, in her annoying nasally voice and fake smile.

Suppressing an eye roll, I reached for a cinnamon bun, attempting to inject some levity into the strained atmosphere. "Dadu, our favorite," I chimed with a grin.

My grandfather shook his head with warning.

I pouted. "What?"

"Unbelievable," my father's voice cracked like a whip, punctuated with the sound of his fist hitting the table. "Do you seriously have no shame at all? I had to abandon a 12-million-dollar deal and fly out here because of you."

"Relax, Ajay. Your blood pressure," Savi interjected, her hand resting gently on my father's clenched fist. She turned to me. "Sanjana, we are very disappointed with what we heard from your dean."

I bristled at her words. "You are no one to me so I don't care what you think of me," I said, taking a defiant bite of the cinnamon bun. "And you didn't have to come down here. The dean wanted to meet my parent or guardian, and you are neither of them."

"Sanjana," Dad said, his voice heavy with warning.

I met his gaze squarely, determinedly. "You didn't have to come either," I said, continuing to chew the sweet treat. "Dadu could have handled it just fine on his own."

"You are my daughter and I–"

I couldn't help but laugh, the bitterness rising within me as I leaned back in my chair. "So you do remember that you have children."

Before Dad could respond, my grandfather interjected, his voice calm but firm. "Let's all take a deep breath and refocus on the main issue at hand."

But Dad's anger only increased. "This is all your fault," he accused Dadu, his frustration boiling over. "You're the reason both my kids have turned out to be spoiled brats like this. You always sweep their mistakes under the carpet without informing me. Look at all the children of my business associates – they're thriving. And then there's mine: one wasting time playing cricket, and the other just spending her father's money. But enough is enough."

I couldn't bear to hear Dadu being berated any longer. "Stop yelling at Dadu," I interjected, my voice trembling with pent-up emotion. "He had to become our father because our own father was absent from our lives."

Dad took a deep breath, visibly trying to regain his composure. "Your dean has agreed to let you sit in your final exams if you manage to score at least 85% on every subject during your next midterm. Plus, you have to write a letter explaining why you deserve this second chance. I've assured him that you'll follow all his rules and become a model student, so make sure that the letter is on his desk by the end of the week."

"Dad–" I began, but he cut me off, his tone firm. "Listen to me, Sanjana. If you aren't allowed to write the finals this semester, I will stop funding your education altogether." I glanced at my grandfather for support, but he remained impassive. "Even he won't be able to help you," Dad continued, his voice laced with a hint of warning. "Let me be clear, here. This is your last chance to build a future on your terms. Because if I'm forced to make that decision for you, I promise you won't like it."

The pit in my stomach deepened as I surveyed the faces around the table in disbelief – from Dad to Dadu to a smirking Savi.

___

"You'll need a tutor," Maya suggested as we strolled through the park after class. After my dad's warning, I had written a letter and Dhananjay Sir accepted it as well. I had to bullshit a lot of things but at least it worked. The next task was to create a plan to score the 85% "A really good one at that because you only have two and a half months. This time as well, I'm sure Kabir Sir will be watching you."

"Don't they have extra classes?" I asked, remembering the professors mentioning them, but I had barely paid attention.

"No, babe. That's for students who require little help, you need a lot of help," Maya replied bluntly.

"Geez. Thanks," I muttered sarcastically. "Do you know anyone who tutors?"

"Well there is one," Maya began, nodding towards a group of students gathered around a picnic bench, with Varun at the center, helping them study. "He's in all your classes, and he's on his way to becoming valedictorian."

I scoffed internally. There was no way I'd ask Varun for help, not in a million years.