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As Ishika and her childhood friend 'krish raisinghani' climbed up from the school Wall, muffling their laughter, they entered the bustling classroom unnoticed.
The familiar scent of chalk dust and freshly wiped desks greeted them, but something felt... off.
The usual chatter of their classmates was subdued, their expressions a mix of awe, irritation, and begrudging obedience.
At the center of it all stood a girl stood With an air of practiced authority, she issued commands like a seasoned leader, directing students to fetch her books, move desks, and quiet down when their voices rose too high.
That girl was striking in appearance-tall and poised, with long, jet-black hair cascading down her back in silky waves. Her eyes, a piercing shade of gray, held an intensity that made it clear she wasn't the type to follow orders. Dressed in the neatly pressed school uniform, she somehow made it look like a designer outfit, exuding an effortless elegance that only added to her commanding presence. A slight smirk curled on her lips, the kind that spoke of arrogance and self-assurance.
"She's new, Adaa Mittal" she muttered under her breath to Krish, who had just returned from a months-long vacation abroad.
Krish brows furrowed in confusion as he scanned the room.
he asked "why is everyone listening to her? oh god it felt I missed everything,"
Ishika gaze darkened. "That," she whispered, crossing her arms, "is our new vice president of the student council."
krish confusion only deepened. "Vice president? But how?"
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, you'd hate this-thanks to none other than My so-called academic rival"
His eyes widened. "Wait, you mean-"
Before he could finish, Adaa turned, her sharp gaze locking onto them as if she had sensed their presence.
The room fell into silence
But Ishika Malhotra wasn't class president for nothing. With practiced ease, she stepped forward, her voice crisp and commanding.
"Enough," Ishika announced, her words slicing through the air. "Take your seats, Now!"
Ishika Malhotra stood at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, her sharp gaze locked onto the adaa Mittal, who refused to back down. The air between them crackled with unspoken challenge.
"You might be the class president," Adaa said coolly, tilting her head, "but that doesn't mean you control me,"
She narrowed her eyes. "This isn't about control. It's about respect. You've been here for what-a few weeks? And you're already bossing people around like they work for you."
Adaa scoffed, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "Oh, please! I didn't ask for their help, They offered. Maybe because they recognize talent when they see it"
Ishika fingers tightened around her arms, but she refused to let her temper get the best of her. "Talent isn't about making people bend to your will. Leadership isn't about forcing others to do your work."
Adaa stepped closer, her smirk widening. "And yet, here we are-you trying to order me around. Sounds a little hypocritical, don't you think?"
A murmur ran through the class, eyes darting between the two girls as if watching an intense chess match.
krish raisinghani, still catching up on everything he had missed, leaned in and whispered, "I was gone for one month. How did you got so many nemesis already?"
Ishika didn't answer. Instead, she took a deep breath and met adaa challenging stare head-on.
"This isn't over," said firmly.
The new girl's smirk didn't fade. "I'd be disappointed if it was."
Just as the last whisper died down, the teacher stepped into the room.
Perfect timing.
Ishika smirked slightly, Another day, another storm managed!
----------------
The sharp scent of chemicals still lingered in the air as the chemistry class wrapped up. Students gathered their books, chatting amongst themselves, but Ishika barely had time to relax before a firm voice called her name.
"Are you okay with your duties?" the chemistry teacher asked, his sharp gaze pinning her in place. "Everything is fine, right? If you're struggling, we can always reconsider your position"
Ishika stiffened, There was something off about the way he said it, a deliberate weight in his words.
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, sir?"
The teacher sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Someone reported that you're not capable of handling your responsibilities as class president."
A slow, icy realization settled over her. She didn't even need to think twice about who it was.
RUHAAN AGNIHOTRI
Jaw tightening, she forced a calm smile and nodded at the teacher. "Thank you for letting me know, sir! I appreciate your concern."
With that, she grabbed her bag, turned to Krish, and offered a quick, clipped, "See you later."
Before he could respond, she was already out the door.
Krish raisinghani had an undeniable sharpness. He noticed things most people didn't. And right now, as he watched his best friend storm out of the classroom, he had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.
Ishika storming through the crowded hallway, her footsteps echoing with purpose.
Students stepped aside as she passed, sensing the storm brewing inside her
______________________
The hallway was empty, tension heavy in the air as Aditya and Prakriti faced off like storm and wildfire.
"I don't care about your stupid rules," she hissed, phone in hand as she texted mid-conversation.
She knew it annoyed him. That's why she did it. Deliberately. Repeatedly.
Aditya clenched his jaw. "You were supposed to submit the budget file before the meeting."
"And you were supposed to stop acting like a dictator," she shot back, not even sparing him a glance.
That was it.
In a blink—he stepped forward, snatched the phone from her hand, and before she could react—SLAM!
He threw it against the wall.
Hard.
Shattered.
"Are you out of your mind?!" she screamed, staring at the glass splinters like her soul cracked with them.
He didn't flinch. Just looked her dead in the eye.
"Next time you disrespect me, I won't stop at your phone."
She lunged forward, ready to slap him straight into next week, but before she could raise her hand—
A bodyguard appeared beside him, calm as if this was routine.
"New phone. Now." Aditya ordered.
Less than thirty seconds later, the man returned—with the latest model iPhone, still wrapped, untouched, clean.
He shoved it into her hand.
"Don't waste my time with cheap tantrums. If you're going to piss me off, at least upgrade your tech."
She stared at him, absolutely livid.
"You think I'm impressed?" she snapped, throwing the new phone back at him.
But he caught it, smirked, and leaned in.
"No. I think you're obsessed."
Her breath caught. Just for a second.
She hated that he always had the upper hand.
But she'd never let him see it.
TO BE CONTINUED...