Love Tangled

The Drama Unfolds

The next morning, St. Xavier High School was buzzing with its usual chaotic energy. Students were bustling near their lockers, catching up on gossip, and mentally preparing for the day ahead. But for Nitin and Disha, today was different. The air felt heavier, every heartbeat louder.

Nitin stood near the main hallway entrance, his hands buried deep inside his hoodie pockets. His stomach was tied in knots. What if everyone sees right through us? What if Priyansh just laughs?

"Stop fidgeting, Nitin. You look like you're about to be interrogated," a smooth voice whispered beside him.

Nitin turned to see Disha. She had abandoned her usual oversized cardigan for a neatly styled jacket, her hair styled differently, and a sharp, composed look in her eyes. She looked stunning—and terrifyingly confident.

"I can't do this, Disha," Nitin muttered, looking around nervously. "People know me as the guy who barely speaks. Suddenly walking with you... it's going to look fake."

Disha gently reached out, her fingers slipping into his hand, intertwining them. Nitin froze, a sudden jolt running down his spine.

"It won't look fake if you act like you belong here," Disha whispered, looking straight into his eyes. "Remember why we're doing this. Look ahead."

Nitin swallowed hard and followed her gaze. Walking down the hallway, laughing with his teammates, was Priyansh. And right beside him, holding a stack of books, was Ritika.

As if on cue, Priyansh's golden-boy smile flickered. His eyes dropped down to where Disha and Nitin’s hands were locked together. The hallway seemed to drop a few degrees in temperature.

Ritika paused too, her eyes widening in sheer shock. She looked at Nitin, then at Disha, and then back at Nitin’s hand in Disha's. The faint, subtle blush that usually graced her cheeks turned into an expression of utter bewilderment.

"Focus on me," Disha murmured softly, leaning in a little closer to Nitin so it would look intentional. "Priyansh is watching. Let his ego bleed a little."

Priyansh immediately broke away from his friends and walked over, trying to play it cool, though the twitch in his jaw betrayed him. "Hey, Dish. Didn't expect to see you... *here*." He glanced disdainfully at Nitin. "With him."

"Oh, hey Priyansh," Disha smiled casually, her tone light and detached—a complete stark contrast to her usual eager self around him. "Nitin and I were just heading to class together."

"Since when do you two hang out?" Priyansh asked, leaning in, his voice laced with a subtle bite.

Before Disha could answer, Ritika stepped up, her eyes soft but confused as she looked at Nitin. "Nitin... I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you for helping me with the history notes yesterday, but..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced at their joined hands again.

Nitin felt his heart race, but he remembered Disha's words from the library. He squeezed Disha's hand slightly and gave Ritika a polite, composed nod. "It was no problem, Ritika. Glad I could help."

Short. Polite. Controlled. No lingering glances, no nervous stammering.

Ritika blinked, clearly taken aback by Nitin’s sudden distance. For months, Nitin had been the quiet constant in her perimeter, always looking at her like she was the only person in the room. Seeing him stand beside Disha, completely calm and unfazed, sparked a weird, unsettling ache in her chest.

"Well," Disha said smoothly, tugging Nitin's arm gently. "We should get to class, Nitin. Don't want to be late."

"Yeah. Let's go," Nitin agreed, matching her stride as they walked past Priyansh and Ritika.

As they turned the corner out of sight, Nitin let out a massive breath he didn't realize he was holding. He looked at Disha, whose hands were trembling again despite her fierce performance.

"Did you see Priyansh's face?" Nitin whispered.

Disha let out a small, breathless laugh, a genuine smile breaking through her sharp facade. "And did you see Ritika? She was completely thrown off, Nitin. It worked."

They leaned against the wall, relieved that step one was over. But as Nitin looked down at their hands—which were still connected—a strange, subtle thought crossed his mind. The fake hand-holding hadn't felt entirely fake after all.

And as the bell rang for the first period, both of them realized that while the game had officially begun, controlling where it led was going to be much harder than they ever imagined.