Arya's P.OV

The room fell into an eerie silence, and I couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered. I mean, it's not like I just suggested a plot involving a love affair between a superhero and a space alien. So, why is everyone staring at me as if I've just revealed a hidden superpower? I glance around, desperately seeking some sort of reaction, but the dumbfounded expressions seem to be stuck on everyone's faces like they're frozen in time.

Finally, Divya breaks the silence, waving me to take a seat while she, along with Raj and Nitank, the play's director, huddles at the other end of the room. I shuffle towards a vacant spot between Mayank and Dev. Just as I settle down, I catch Asim's gaze, and something's definitely up with him. He's usually so quick to make fun of me or challenge me, but now he's just sitting there, staring at me like he's trying to decipher an ancient code. Well, whatever he's up to, I've got better things to do.

Mayank can't hold it in any longer and blurts out, "Did you actually come up with that, Arya?"I smirk and reply, "Of course I did. It's about time you all recognized my genius. I've been waiting."

Dev looks like he's seen a ghost as he stammers, "Your plot is... it's pretty intense."

Sure, I knew they'd be surprised by my plot since I've never shared one before, but this level of shock is a bit too much. And what's the deal with Mr. Silent Brooding behind me? Did he lose his voice or something? Not that I care.

Raj's voice cuts through the awkwardness, saving us from the suspense. All eyes shift to him as he says, "Thanks for your ideas, everyone. Honestly, each one was amazing and unique in its own way. We're just faced with the dilemma of choosing one for our play. Our director, Nitank, is having a tough time deciding between two plots—Asim's and Arya's."

Nitank steps forward, clearing his throat, his presence commanding attention. "Asim's plot tackles a relevant societal issue, while Arya's plot holds a mirror to a harsh reality we often overlook. It's a tough call. We're considering a vote-"

"I withdraw my plot," a sudden declaration echoes from the backseat, jolting everyone in the room. All eyes turn towards Asim, his unexpected announcement casting a perplexed silence over the group. What on earth is going on in his head?

Raj, seeking clarification, furrows his brows and asks, "What do you mean?"

Asim repeats himself, his gaze fixed intently on the floor. "I'm pulling back my plot," he murmurs softly, the words hanging in the air like a cryptic puzzle. Seriously, what's up with this guy? Did he get a sudden bout of enlightenment or something?

Divya steps forward, visibly intrigued. "But why?"

Without raising his gaze, Asim speaks with a touch of hesitation, "I believe Arya's plot holds a mirror to a reality that deserves our attention." His eyes finally meet mine, and for a moment, there's something in them that speaks of vulnerability, a side of Asim I've never seen before. I'm itching to ask what's really eating at him, but before I can say anything, Divya intervenes.

"Alright, then it's settled," Divya sighs. "Arya will be the one writing this play." The room bursts into applause as I stand up, my gratitude evident. However, I'm pretty sure Ms. Sly over there isn't too thrilled with this outcome. Maybe she was secretly rooting for the python-themed plot by our resident herpetology enthusiast. If there were a vote, I bet she'd be waving a python banner right now.

"But Arya, time is of the essence," Divya continues once the applause subsides. "I'll need the script by Monday."

Hold up, it's Saturday! How am I supposed to whip up an entire script in less than two days? After this long journey, I'm in no shape to compose anything coherent.

"But Divya, a whole script by Monday? That's almost impossible," I object. Her smile doesn't seem entirely genuine as she replies, "Come on, Arya. You pitched this idea, so you must have made some progress on it already, right?"

Technically, she's not wrong; that's what we were supposed to do. But to be honest, I never actually got around to putting words on paper. With a resigned sigh, I nod in reluctant agreement. I know Divya's got some unresolved issues with me, but this feels like she's playing the villain in a melodrama. I won't beg for an extension from her, though.

"Alright then, Arya, please get signed up for script writing," Divya declares, and Madhvi approaches me with a clipboard for my contact details. Seriously, why all the formalities? Everyone here has my number from last year's play. This is just unnecessary bureaucracy. After the meeting wraps up, Dev, Raj, and I make our way out of the auditorium.

"I'm in deep trouble," I groan, a visceral frustration building up within me. And let's be honest, I'm in a deep, dark hole of trouble. Independence Day is looming, everyone's putting their hearts into preparing for the festival, and here I am with nothing but a looming disaster for the 11th-grade play. Bravo, Arya. You truly deserve a round of applause for this epic mess.

"What's going on, Arya?" Dev's voice is soothing as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. This guy's got a certain charm, I'll give him that.

"Dev," I grip his arm, my desperation plain to see. "I'm in a fix. I haven't even started writing the script. How on earth am I going to finish it before Monday?"

"Seriously, Arya? You didn't show up at school today and you still haven't started? Where were you, and what's going on?" Raj's frustration matches my own, his voice brimming with annoyance.

I hesitate for a moment. Should I spill the beans to him? We've been thick as thieves for over a decade, and there are barely any secrets between us. But this isn't just my secret to share; it's Meghana's. Then again, Meghana doesn't even know I've crossed paths with her boyfriend and gathered all the juicy details.

"Dude, it's a long story. I promise I'll fill you in on all the details later. Right now, I'm beyond exhausted and have zero clue how I'm supposed to whip up a script by Monday," I practically yell, my frustration directed at... well, myself?

"I can help you with the script," a voice chimes in from behind, causing us to halt in our tracks. We turn around to find Asim strolling up to us, evidently having overheard our conversation.

"Do pythons usually have a knack for eavesdropping?" I quip.

"Given your loudspeaker tendencies, no one needs to eavesdrop to know what's going on in your world," he fires back playfully. This guy's shameless. He's the one lurking around, eavesdropping, and yet he's got the audacity to clap back.

"My 'loudspeaker tendencies' still beat your elephant ears. At least I'm not snooping on other people's business," I roll my eyes, delivering a counterstrike.

"Ha, the entire school knows who's the eavesdropper," he laughs with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "Look, let me lend a hand with your script," he offers, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"Why do you want to help me?" I ask, genuine bewilderment coloring my words. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that he abandoned his plot just so mine could be chosen for the play. And now, he's voluntarily stepping up to assist me. This whole thing is like an alternate reality.

"Maybe because I understand the inspiration behind this script," he meets my gaze directly, and my heart skips a beat. His voice carries a different tone, his eyes seem to hold a depth of emotion. What's going on with him today? Why does he sound so somber?

Before I can delve further, he diverts the conversation. "So, where can we meet tomorrow to work on this together? I'm guessing you don't want to come to my place while my dad is around."

I burst into laughter, because the same scenario applies to my house too.

"Nor mine," I chuckle. If my dad spots me bringing a guy home, he'd probably disown me on the spot, after giving the guy a stern lecture.

"I get it, it's probably more acceptable in my case since I'm a girl. But I didn't expect your family to be so conservative," I tease him.

"They're not, but after a certain..." Asim starts explaining before quickly changing the subject. "So, where should we meet tomorrow?" What was he about to say? There's something off about him today. Arya, don't overthink it. You're already dealing with enough stress; it's not good for your complexion. Stay cool, stay hydrated. Speaking of which, where's my water bottle? I retrieve it from my bag and take a refreshing sip.

"We could come to my place. My dad usually heads to his office in Delhi over the weekends, and my mom is pretty chill," Dev offers.

"Perfect!" I exclaim, realizing something. Wait... Dev's house? That means Raj would have to be there too. How could my perpetually single friend miss this golden opportunity? It's high time Raj's heartland of singleness witnesses the blossoming of romance.

"Yeah, Raj, let's head to Dev's place tomorrow," I chime in, giving Raj's arm a meaningful squeeze. Don't let this chance slip, you oblivious dolt. Read between the lines!

As expected, Raj doesn't catch on. "Why would I go there? I've got things to do. Just get your script done," he grumbles, trying to free his arm from my vice grip. How can someone be so thick?

"Ow, Arya, that hurts!" he complains, finally managing to release his arm.

"Raj, focus! This is important. You're helping me, at Dev's place," I emphasize the "Dev's place" part, hoping he'd finally grasp my intentions. I'm practically playing matchmaker here.

Raj looks at me, momentarily bewildered before a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. "Dev's place?" he mumbles, then quickly turns to Dev.

"Oh, yeah, of course, I'm here to help," Raj says, laughing awkwardly. Finally, his dormant brain cells are stirring to life.

"Awesome," I say, turning back to Dev. "Where do you live, Dev? Message me your address."

"Um, I don't have... your number," Dev hesitates, making me laugh. He's so cute, acting like he's asking for my number to ask me out.

"Give me your phone," I extend my hand, and he obliges. I quickly save my number in his contacts and wait for him to message me his address.

He looks at Asim, and Asim looks back at him. "What?" Asim asks.

"My silly python he wants your number so he can send you his address," I say, shaking my head. Wait, did I just call him "my silly python"? Arya, Just kill yourself, right now!

Suddenly, Dev's phone rings, and he looks at the screen. "Arya, you can message him my address and let me know when you guys are coming. I have to go now; my mom's here." He says his goodbyes and leaves. That guy is really cute. Raj, don't let him slip away. You need to make him your boyfriend.

"So, what's your phone number?" I snap back to reality, hearing Asim's voice, and I turn to see him sporting a creepy smile.