Chapter 5: Blame Games

As a good student, I’d never been called to the staffroom for a fight before. The staffroom smelled of stale samosas and strong filter coffee, the ceiling fan barely stirring the heavy air.

The class teacher frowned. "There are CCTV cameras in the classroom. Since both of you say you didn’t do it, we’ll check the footage. Whoever did it will have to take responsibility."

Neither of us looked guilty, so she paused. "Otherwise, you’ll both be publicly scolded at assembly."

Priya blurted, "Ma’am—"

A knock interrupted her. Rohan walked in, calm and polite. "Ma’am, I wrote the word."

The staffroom fell silent for three seconds.

He explained, "I spilled water this morning and accidentally got my books wet. The ink must have transferred onto Neha’s desk."

Even the peon outside would laugh at such a story, but I kept my face blank. In college, silence is safer than protest.

The class teacher’s face stiffened, but Rohan turned to me. "Neha, sorry for causing you trouble."

Priya’s eyes sparkled with hope. So this is what it means to be a childhood friend?

I smiled. "Since Rohan is so sincere, how about you help me with my studies as compensation?"

He nodded. From the corner of my eye, I saw Priya’s eyes flare red with anger.

The only sound was the fan’s hum. The teacher seemed desperate to avoid more paperwork so close to exams. Outside, the peon’s chappals slapped the corridor, breaking the tension. I tried to steady my breath, letting Rohan’s presence shield me. Priya glared at me like I’d just stolen her last barfi.