It's noon. I put my head down on the bench. The students around me keep shouting. The whole class is full of idiots. I hate loud noises.

"Riya, are you coming to my home? I'll make a cake for you!" a girl says loudly. I'm sitting at the last bench and still hear her clearly. Seriously, are you talking or singing opera? She's so annoying.

Finally, the bell rings. Time to get out of this zoo. I grab my bag and put on my hoodie. Everyone else is still sitting and chatting, like they don’t want to go home. How can they love school so much?

I feel so uncomfortable here, like something is choking me. Every breath feels heavy… like I owe someone just for breathing. Anyway, I stepped out.

I still hear their voices near the main gate. And then, suddenly, it starts raining. Great. I hate rain. It’s just as noisy as them.

Why does nature love rain so much? Ugh. Oh wait—I see a panipuri stall! I love panipuri. I walked there quickly. It's still raining, but the stall is near the corner of a shop, so the rain doesn’t reach there. I placed my bag on the table.

"Give me spicy panipuri, Bhaiya," I said.

He nodded.

In this world, only food can fix my mood. Not people, not love, not care—just good food. Good food, good mood. In India, food means everything to us. Actually, not just India—the whole world is crazy about food, right?

So yeah, when I’m upset, I eat. That’s how I fix myself. Maybe that’s why I’m a little chubby too.

I live with my dad. My mom died when I was 7. Now I’m 17, and I go to high school.

I started eating. It’s super spicy—God, it’s amazing! I was dying to eat this. Ohhh God, it's so spicy… I’m going to die from it. But I love it. I gave the stall guy 20 rupees.

Then I grabbed my bag and waited for the bus. Like always, it's late.

Finally, I heard the sound of the engine. The bus is coming. Next to me, a pregnant woman was also waiting. I hoped she would find a seat… but finding a seat on this bus is nearly impossible.

I stepped in. As expected, the bus was packed with people. Everyone was sweating. God, help me. I stood and held onto the yellow hanhandlebar

The pregnant lady got on too. But she was still standing. That’s not good for her—standing like that is bad for her health. And no one even offered her a seat.

Then, suddenly, someone called out, “Ma’am, here… you can sit here.”

I looked back. A guy had stood up and offered his seat to her.

Everyone in the bus stared at him like he had done something wrong. Like being kind was a crime. Doing a good thing… and people still make you feel embarrassed for it. People really suck sometimes. They always make good feel awkward.

The lady smiled and said, “Thanks, kid.”

Now that guy was standing right behind me. It felt… really awkward. He had a bag on and was still in his school uniform. I wasn’t sure which school it was from, but he looked older than me—maybe my senior?

Then he suddenly asked, “Which school are you from?”

He was still holding onto the bar, standing close. The bus was too crowded. There was only a small gap between us—my bag.

"Then why are you in a public bus?" I asked, surprised.

He chuckled. "Oh, listen… I skipped school today."

"What?!" I stared at him. This guy actually skipped school? I want to do that too, but I can’t. My dad would literally kill me.

"Why?" I asked.

"To meet someone," he said casually.

Oh… maybe a girlfriend, I thought. Rich guys grow up fast, not like us—jinhe TV dekhne se fursat nahi milti.

"He’s my friend," he added. "He’s in the hospital."

"What??"

"My father didn’t let me go meet him. So I went to school, then escaped through the back gate. That’s why I’m here.

"So… did you meet him?"

"No, I’m going to meet him."

I blinked. "I’m going to meet someone too."

"Who?"

"My brother. That duffer fell off his bike."

"Karan?" he asked suddenly, suspiciously."What? Yeah, that’s my brother’s name..."He looked at me, wide-eyed. "He’s my friend."