The next morning began with the same old chaos.
Sambhavi walked into the classroom late—again. She tossed her bag beside her best friend Khushi, joining in the noisy whirlwind of gossip, jokes, and cackling laughter. The classroom echoed with the energy only fourth graders could generate.
Until…
“SILENCE!”
The class teacher, Mrs. Fernandes, stood at the door, arms crossed, lips pursed.
“Are you all in a fish market or a classroom?” she snapped.
The noise died instantly.
“You lot were supposed to be in assembly five minutes ago! Move!”
They scrambled like scattered papers in the wind, rushing toward the assembly ground. Sambhavi’s eyes darted for a second, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rahul in the crowd. He was there, standing silently with a couple of boys, looking just as uninterested as he did the day before.
Back in class after assembly, Mrs. Fernandes returned—clearly still annoyed.
“ENOUGH of this mess!” she barked. “Didn’t I tell you all—two girls and one boy per bench? Not four friends giggling on one, and three boys fighting over pencil boxes on another!”
Everyone groaned. Whispers filled the room. No one wanted to be separated from their circle.
Sambhavi's palms got clammy.
What if… just what if…
Mrs. Fernandes began calling names, her eyes scanning the attendance list.
"Sambhavi! You’ll sit on the fourth bench near the window. With... Rachel."
Sambhavi quietly picked up her bag, hiding the slight curve of her lips. The sunlight glinted through the window. Her heart was beating faster than it should.
Then came the moment she wasn’t sure would ever happen.
"Rahul," the teacher called.
"You sit between Sambhavi and Rachel."
Her ears turned bright red. She ducked her head to pretend to adjust her water bottle. Her cheeks glowed like a freshly painted rose.
He walked over… and sat down.
He didn’t say a word. Neither did she.
But her heart was screaming loud enough for both of them.
Classes started.
A few subjects later, Rahul leaned slightly toward them and whispered, “I’ll ask my friend to come sit here next period. You both can shift.”
He sounded casual—maybe even a little annoyed.
Sambhavi laughed softly to herself, hiding the sting in her chest.
Of course. Why would a boy want to sit between two girls?
She and Rachel agreed to swap during the next period. They had to. If she objected, it would be obvious—too obvious.
And so, in the next class, they quietly shifted.
But their teacher noticed.
And soon enough, the whole class was standing in the corridor, hands over their heads.
Punishment.
But Sambhavi didn’t regret it.
Not one bit.
The pattern began.
Every day during class teacher’s period, they followed the seating rule.
Then they’d switch places whenever the next teacher came.
Until one day… Sambhavi decided not to move.
She stayed.
Sitting beside Rahul, with his friend next to her.
“Hey, you can move now,” Rahul said bluntly, almost irritated. “It’s fine. Nothing will happen.”
But she didn’t move an inch.
She kept her eyes on her notebook and didn’t even flinch.
That little act of quiet rebellion gave her strength.
They continued this little game for about a week—sitting together, switching, sneaking seats. Her days were now measured in stolen moments and silent proximity.
But it didn’t last forever.
Mrs. Fernandes finally had enough.
She informed every teacher:
“The seating plan is final. No one changes seats, no matter what.”
And just like that, the unsaid comfort of those fleeting bench moments came to an end.
But somewhere in the middle of those benches,
of silence and sideways glances,
Sambhavi had already stitched the first thread of a secret wish.
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