Classes resumed like any other ordinary day.
Aarav had no idea that before the next lecture began, he would hear the story that would change the way he saw Meera forever.
The lecture hall buzzed with the usual post-class chaos. After an exhausting ninety-minute lecture, the professor finally dismissed them for a short break.
The moment he stepped out, the room exploded with noise.
Students stretched dramatically, cracked their knuckles, opened snack packets, and began chatting loudly as if they had been holding their breath the entire lecture.
"Aaruuuu! Make me laugh naaa!"
Riya leaned across the bench like a dying patient, poking Aarav's arm repeatedly while Kabir sat beside her pretending to wipe imaginary tears.
"I am not a stand-up comedian," Aarav groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Please respect my profession."
"You survive on attention," Kabir declared wisely.
The group burst into laughter.
Aarav laughed too — loud, effortless, familiar.
But his eyes betrayed him.
They searched.
Third row.
Window seat.
Meera was there, quietly flipping through her new logbook, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration. A loose strand of hair slipped across her cheek, and she tucked it behind her ear absentmindedly while checking something carefully.
Aarav watched her for a moment.
Since their canteen walk yesterday, something had changed.
She still sat alone. But she didn't feel distant anymore.
Today he had made a small decision. He would introduce her to his friends. Let her sit with the chaos. Let the noise adopt her.
No more sitting alone.
He was about to stand up when—
"You couldn't do a single thing properly I told you to do, huh?!"
The sharp voice sliced through the classroom.
The laughter died instantly.
Heads turned.
A senior stood beside Meera's desk, her logbook clutched tightly in his hand. He flipped through the pages aggressively, the paper rustling loudly.
"It still has so many mistakes!" he snapped. "The professor scolded me because of you!"
Meera froze.
Her shoulders curled inward as if she was trying to disappear.
"I… I corrected what you marked," she said quietly.
"Clearly you can see it was not enough!"
The senior leaned closer, his voice colder now.
"Or did you grow wings after leaving the house?"
A few students exchanged uncomfortable glances.
The air in the classroom grew tense.
Then he said something that made the entire room fall silent.
"And don't forget your status.Your college fees are still being paid by my father," he continued harshly. "You're studying here because of us. So at least learn to follow instructions."
Meera's fingers tightened around the edge of her desk.
Something sharp twisted inside Aarav's chest.
No one deserved to be spoken to like that.
Especially not her.
"That's enough."
His voice wasn't loud. But it was steady.
The entire classroom turned.
Aarav stood slowly from his bench.
"Talk respectfully," he said.
The senior scoffed.
"Oh? You her spokesperson now?"
Before Aarav could reply, two chairs scraped loudly behind him.
Rohan and Kabir stood up beside him instantly.
Kabir crossed his arms casually.
"We can call the anti-ragging committee," he said calmly. "Public humiliation counts, right?"
Murmurs spread across the classroom. Several students nodded.
The senior glanced around. His confidence cracked.
He tossed the logbook onto Meera's desk.
"Whatever," he muttered. "Fix it properly."
Then he walked out.
Silence filled the room.
Meera hadn't moved. Her eyes shimmered.
And before anyone could say anything—
She grabbed her bag and rushed out.
Aarav didn't hesitate.
"I'll explain later," he told his friends quickly.
Then he followed her.
Behind the academic block was a quiet corner most students barely noticed.
A massive banyan tree stood there, its branches stretching wide like protective arms. Leaves rustled softly in the breeze.
An old wooden bench rested beneath it.
A stray cat lounged nearby like a lazy guardian of the place.
Meera sat on the bench. And she was crying.
Not the quiet kind. The kind that came from somewhere deep inside.
Aarav slowed his steps.
"Oye… wait."
She didn't look up.
He sat beside her carefully, leaving a small space between them.
"Here," he said gently, offering his water bottle.
She wiped her face quickly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to create a scene…"
"Scene?" Aarav said softly. "He created it."
She shook her head.
"It's okay," she murmured.
"I'm used to it."
The words hit him harder than the shouting earlier.
"Used to it?" he repeated quietly.
He hesitated.
"Who was he?"
She stared at her trembling hands.
" Rishabh. My cousin ."
Aarav blinked.
"What?"
"That's where I grew up," she said softly. "At my uncle's house."
The breeze stirred the leaves above them.
A leaf drifted down onto her lap.
"My parents died in a car accident when I was six," she said.
Her voice trembled.
"It was raining that day. I remember holding my mother's dupatta because I was scared of thunder."
She swallowed.
"And then came a call… everything just ended."
Aarav stayed silent. Listening.
"After that, I lived with my uncle and aunt," she continued.
"They never said it directly… but I knew I wasn't wanted."
Her fingers twisted together.
"I woke up before everyone. Packed my cousin's lunch. Cleaned the house before school."
"I never asked for new clothes. Never asked for pocket money."
"If anything went wrong… it was held responsible."
Her voice broke.
"If bhai's project wasn't finished on time I got slapped. If they had a bad day, I got shouted at."
She took a shaky breath.
"But the worst part wasn't that."
Her voice lowered.
"My aunt used to say… be grateful. We kept you."
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"They would eat dinner together.... I was not allowed in their family time...," she whispered.
"I would wash the dishes first… and then eat whatever was left."
The stray cat brushed against her leg.
She stroked its fur absentmindedly.
"I thought if I studied well… maybe they'd be proud of me."
She gave a hollow laugh.
"They never came to my school events."
Her voice grew smaller.
"In ninth grade rishabh spread a rumor about me and a senior boy. A revenge for getting more marks than him..."
"Girls stopped sitting with me.Boys laughed when I walked past."
"I started eating lunch behind the library."
Her breathing trembled again.
"I learned something that year."
Aarav asked softly,
"What?"
"If you don't get close to anyone… they can't leave you."
Silence settled beneath the banyan tree.
"I thought college would be different," she whispered.
"When I got admission… I thought maybe I could start again."
"Just be Meera."
Her voice cracked.
"But when he shouted today… it felt like I was back there."
"Six years old...Standing in the rain. All by myself. I wish Mom was here...."
That was it.
Aarav moved.
He pulled her gently into his arms. Carefully. Like she was something fragile.
She stiffened for a moment.Then she broke.
Her hands clutched his shirt as she cried into his chest.
Years of pain finally escaping.
Aarav held her firmly.
"You're not alone," he said quietly.
"I'm right here."
"And I'm not going anywhere."
Minutes passed.
The wind rustled softly through the leaves.
Eventually Meera wiped her face.
"If someone sees… they'll talk again…"
Aarav tilted his head.
"You hugged me for five minutes," he said. "And now you're apologizing?"
Her cheeks turned red.
"It's wrong…"
"Comfort isn't wrong," he said gently.
"Needing someone isn't wrong. And crying because you've been strong for too long?"
He smiled softly.
"Definitely not wrong."
She looked at him. Listening.
"We're friends," he continued.
"Friends protect each other. And friends hug when the other is breaking."
He looked around dramatically.
"And by the way… amazing job finding this place."
He gestured around.
"Private cat, vintage bench, cinematic banyan tree… ten out of ten location."
Meera blinked.
Then —
She laughed. A real laugh.
The stray cat meowed.
"See?" Aarav grinned. "Even the cat approves."
The heaviness in her chest loosened slightly.
Aarav stood and extended his hand.
"Shall we go back before the class assumes we eloped under this aesthetic tree?"
Her eyes widened.
"Aarav!"
"I'm kidding," he laughed.
She hesitated only a moment.
Then placed her hand in his.
As they walked back toward the academic block together, leaves drifted softly behind them.
And somewhere deep inside her, a quiet voice whispered—
Maybe this time…
I'm not alone.