Part 3: Finding a Friend in the Coaching Center
1209 Words
As Ishaan settled into his new school, the sense of isolation persisted. He had resigned himself to the idea that fitting in wasn’t something that would come easily, not after so many moves. The classrooms felt cold, the hallways endless, and even the playground, filled with kids, felt empty to him. Though he participated in activities and made polite small talk, he was always on the periphery—watching, but never truly involved.
But things started to shift one evening after school when Ishaan’s parents enrolled him in a coaching center for extra help with his studies. His family, despite their financial struggles, always made sure he had the best opportunities when it came to education. The coaching center was a small, somewhat rundown building on the outskirts of town, but it had a reputation for helping students excel. Ishaan wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of spending more hours studying, but it wasn’t as if he had anything else to look forward to.
On his first day at the coaching center, he found himself in a small classroom with a handful of students, most of whom were also from his school. He recognized a few faces but didn’t know any of them well enough to start a conversation. So, as usual, he kept to himself, finding a seat at the back of the room.
The teacher, a middle-aged man with thick glasses, introduced himself and immediately launched into a lecture about the importance of academic discipline. Ishaan tried to focus, but his mind wandered, his thoughts drifting between the unfamiliar faces around him and the endless pressure to succeed.
---
During the break, Ishaan stood by the water cooler, sipping quietly when he noticed a boy standing next to him. He had seen him before—a tall, lanky figure with glasses and an easygoing smile. The boy had been sitting in the front, chatting with a few others during the lesson.
“Hey,” the boy said, glancing at Ishaan. “New here too?”
Ishaan nodded. “Yeah, just started today. You?”
The boy grinned. “Same. I’m Rohit, by the way.”
“Ishaan,” he replied, a little surprised at how easily the conversation had started.
Rohit leaned against the wall, looking around. “This place is kind of dead, huh? I was hoping for something a bit more exciting, but I guess it’s just going to be books and more books.”
Ishaan chuckled. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like we’ll have much fun here.”
“Tell me about it. So, where did you move from? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“Just a different part of the city,” Ishaan said, trying to keep it vague. He wasn’t used to explaining his constant moving around, and even now, it still felt strange to talk about it. “We move a lot.”
Rohit raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. Instead, he nodded sympathetically. “Must be tough, starting over all the time.”
Ishaan shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. At least the schoolwork’s the same everywhere.”
Rohit laughed. “Yeah, math is math no matter where you go, right?”
---
As the evening wore on, Ishaan found himself gravitating toward Rohit. There was something about him that put Ishaan at ease—maybe it was his relaxed attitude or the fact that he didn’t ask too many questions. They sat together during the rest of the lesson, exchanging quiet comments about the teacher’s long-winded explanations and the boredom that seemed to settle over the classroom like a heavy blanket.
After the class ended, they walked out together. Rohit, always full of energy, immediately started talking about random things—the latest football match, a new movie coming out, and the annoying math problems they were assigned for homework.
“So, you into football?” Rohit asked, glancing over at Ishaan.
“Yeah, I like it,” Ishaan replied. “Played a bit at school, but I’m not really on any team.”
“Same here. I mean, I play with the guys at school, but I’m not serious about it or anything. Just something to do, you know?”
They continued chatting as they walked, and for the first time in a long while, Ishaan felt... comfortable. Rohit didn’t treat him like an outsider or ask about his past. He just talked—about normal, everyday things—and Ishaan found himself enjoying the conversation more than he expected.
As they reached the end of the street, Rohit turned to him. “Hey, you want to hang out sometime? I mean, outside of this place. There’s a park near my house where we play football on weekends. You should come.”
Ishaan hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t used to invitations. Most of the time, he was the one standing on the edge, waiting for others to approach him. But there was something genuine about Rohit’s offer, something that made Ishaan feel like it wasn’t just a casual suggestion.
“Yeah,” Ishaan said finally. “I’d like that.”
Rohit grinned. “Cool. I’ll let you know when we’re playing next.”
---
In the days that followed, Ishaan and Rohit grew closer. They sat together during the coaching classes, exchanged notes, and spent breaks talking about everything from their favorite sports to the absurd amount of homework they were assigned. Rohit had a way of making everything seem less serious, and for the first time in a long while, Ishaan found himself laughing without holding back.
It wasn’t just that Rohit was friendly; it was that he understood. He didn’t ask too many questions about Ishaan’s past or pry into why he always seemed a little distant. Instead, he accepted him for who he was at that moment. And that was enough.
One evening after class, as they were walking home, Rohit turned to Ishaan. “So, I gotta ask... why do you keep to yourself so much? I mean, I get it, new kid and all, but you’re not like the others.”
Ishaan paused, caught off guard by the question. He had been careful not to let anyone in too deep, but with Rohit, it felt different. He could trust him.
“It’s just... I’ve moved around a lot,” Ishaan admitted, his voice quiet. “It’s hard to keep making friends when you know you might leave soon.”
Rohit nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I get that. But you’re here now, right? No point in holding back. You’ve got a place here, man.”
For the first time in a long time, Ishaan felt like he could breathe. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe he didn’t have to keep running, to keep guarding his heart against the inevitable. Maybe, just maybe, this was a place where he could finally belong.
---
Verse:
In the noise of the crowded room,
He found a quiet voice, a spark.
A friendship born in fleeting words,
A light that cut through the dark.
He’d wandered through too many halls,
Always an outsider, standing tall.
But one voice, steady and kind,
Made him feel less confined.
- Writer
