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7:55 a.m., Main Corridor, then 8:10 a.m., Class 9-B*
He was late. First day, new school, already lost.
She was early. First day, same school, same corner of her brain blocked off to everyone.
Corridor was packed. He took a turn too fast with his head down, checking room numbers.
She was walking the other way, water bottle in hand, also not looking.
Collision. Shoulder to shoulder. Her bottle hit the floor. Rolled. His file slipped.
"Watch it," she said, bending to grab the bottle. Didn't look up.
"You watch it," he shot back, grabbing his file. "You came out of nowhere."
She stood. Finally looked. New face. New uniform. "I was walking in a straight line. You're the one doing Formula 1 around corners."
The eyeroll. The sarcasm. The way she said "Formula 1" like she was already tired of him. He was grinning before his brain caught up.
"You're the one with zero peripheral vision," he said, because flirting for him was apparently arguing. "What, they don't teach spatial awareness at this school?"
"Clearly they don't teach brakes at yours." She picked up his file, held it out. "Here. Try not to crash into grade 10 next."
He took it. Her fingers brushed his. Fatal. "Try not to park in the middle of the highway."
She rolled her eyes and walked off toward the stairs. He went the opposite way, watching her go, muttering "highway" to himself like it was already a nickname.
8:10 a.m., Class 11-B
She dropped into the corner. Exhaled. Idiot from the hallway was out of her life.
Door opened. He walked in at 8:11. Late. Again.
Scanned the room. Found an empty seat diagonally behind the window corner.
He sat. His bag hit the back leg of the bench in front of him.
She went rigid.No.She turned her head half an inch.
He looked up. Saw the back of her head. Then the side of her face.
Oh no, she thought.
Oh yes, he thought. Highway girl.
"You," she said.
"You," he said. And he was smiling. He couldn't help it.
Door slammed. Geography ma'am. "Up. Down. New admissions."
"Aashish."
He stood, not taking his eyes off the back of her head. "Here."
"Previously from St. Xavier's.Behind the highway girl."
Since you two clearly know each other already—"
"We don't," they said at the same time. She glared. He was still smiling.
"—she'll get you the syllabus. Try not to collide in class like you probably did in the hall."
The whole room turned. She wanted to die.
She tore a timetable out. Didn't turn around. Just held it over her left shoulder into his row.
He took it. Fingers brushed again. He was ruined. "Thanks, Highway."
"Shut up, Racecar."
She thought it was round one.
He knew he'd already lost the whole war.
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