SAMARTH'S POV:

I stood tall at the podium, surveying the room of students, each one waiting for me to speak.

"Good morning, students," I began, my voice cutting through the air with a sharp, commanding authority. I made sure there was no room for doubt in my tone, projecting the seriousness I expected from them. "I am Samarth Oberoi, your mathematics professor. And if you're curious, you can find everything you need to know about me with a quick search. But I can assure you, no amount of research will prepare you for what you're about to experience in my class."

I scanned the room, letting my words sink in. I wasn't here to entertain them, and I certainly wasn't here to make their lives easy.

"And yes," I continued, "everyone in this room will adhere to my threefold rule, no exceptions."

I paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment before laying down the foundation for the semester.

"One: no nonsense in my class. This is a place for learning, not for wasting time. Two: I will conduct exams every Wednesday, and no one will be excused. If you miss it, you fail. And three: there will be no talking unless I permit it. I run a strict class, and I expect discipline."

I spoke clearly, my words calculated and firm. I needed to establish control from the very beginning-I didn't tolerate disruptive behavior, not in my lectures, and certainly not in mathematics, where precision and focus were crucial.

Looking out over the students, I could sense a mix of reactions-some were intimidated, others intrigued. But all of them knew now that in my class, there was no room for mediocrity.

"Now that we're clear on the rules," I said, turning back to the class, "let's get into the mathematics of architecture-where form meets precision."

I drew a basic triangle on the board, its clean lines stark against the dark surface. "At the core of architectural design, you must understand the fundamentals of geometry. Buildings aren't just art-they're structures that need to stand, withstand forces, and be functional. And that starts with understanding basic shapes."

I added measurements to each side of the triangle, labeling them. "This is a right triangle. One of the most crucial aspects of architectural mathematics is the Pythagorean theorem. Anyone care to explain it?" I looked around the room, but no one volunteered. Typical.

"Alright, I'll explain," I said without hesitation. "In a right triangle, the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides. This theorem is not just something you learn for exams; it is the foundation for calculating load-bearing structures, staircases, roof pitches-essentially, any time you're dealing with angled elements in design."

I moved over to another part of the board and wrote down the formula:

where c is the hypotenuse, and a and b are the other sides.

"Let's take an example," I continued. "If we have a triangle with sides of 3 and 4 units, what's the length of the hypotenuse?"

I paused, giving them a moment to think.

A student cautiously raised their hand. "Five?"

"Correct," I said, nodding. "Because 3² plus 4² equals 9 plus 16, which equals 25, and the square root of 25 is 5. This may seem simple, but you'd be surprised how often you'll need to apply this in real-world scenarios."

I moved on to the next concept. "Now, let's talk about symmetry and balance in structures. When you design, you're not just placing shapes together. You're ensuring that forces are distributed evenly, that the center of mass is stable. This brings us to another critical topic: vectors."

I drew a building frame on the board, illustrating the forces acting upon it. "Forces like wind or weight exert pressure on buildings. You need to calculate these vectors to ensure that your design remains stable and doesn't collapse. We'll delve deeper into vector mathematics in the next lecture, but for now, remember this: in architecture, balance is everything."

Stepping back from the board, I added, "Questions?"

As I continued with the lecture, my eyes kept flicking back to the girl with swollen eyes. Her sluggish movements and distant stare irritated me. I didn't tolerate distractions in my class, and her lack of attention was becoming one.

I stopped mid-sentence, letting the room go silent. Every head turned toward me, sensing the shift in atmosphere.

"You," I said sharply, pointing at the girl in the back. "What's your name?"

The class fell even quieter, tension building as everyone turned to look at her. She blinked, clearly startled by being singled out, and looked up slowly. Her expression was a mix of confusion and something close to embarrassment.

"I asked you a question," I said, my voice cold and precise. "Name."

"Abhiya... Abhiya Sharma," she managed to say, her voice barely audible.

"Well, Miss Sharma," I continued, my tone not softening, "this is a mathematics class, not a daydreaming session. If you're too tired to focus, I suggest you find a way to stay awake. Because distractions like this won't be tolerated."

I watched her face flush, her hands gripping the edges of her desk a little tighter. There was no sympathy in my voice or my stance-I didn't care about her excuses, only that she was disrupting the order I demanded in my classroom.

"If you can't keep up, I suggest you reconsider your priorities," I added, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Now, pay attention or leave. Your choice."

I turned back to the board without waiting for her response, resuming the lecture as if nothing had happened.

ABHIYA'S POV

My heart dropped into my stomach the moment Professor Samarth Oberoi pointed at me. I hadn't even realized he'd been watching, and the sudden attention made my skin prickle with embarrassment.

I could feel the stares of my classmates burning into me as if waiting for me to crumble under the weight of his harsh gaze. The silence felt suffocating, my throat tightening as I forced myself to speak.

"Abhiya... Abhiya Sharma," I barely whispered, hating how small and weak my voice sounded.

His expression didn't change. Cold, impersonal, as if I were nothing more than an annoyance he had to deal with. "This is a mathematics class, not a daydreaming session. If you're too tired to focus, I suggest you find a way to stay awake. Because distractions like this won't be tolerated."

My cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. My eyes stung again, but I fought hard against the tears threatening to spill. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

"If you can't keep up, I suggest you reconsider your priorities," he said, his voice sharp like the edge of a blade. "Now, pay attention or leave. Your choice."

I felt like the floor had been ripped out from beneath me. I wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. My fingers gripped the sides of my desk so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My mind screamed at me to defend myself, to say something, anything, but my mouth stayed shut. What was the point? He wouldn't care.

Without another word, he turned back to the board, continuing the lecture as if I didn't even exist.

The humiliation burned deep, and I couldn't help but steal glances at the other students. Some looked sympathetic, but most were either avoiding eye contact or pretending to be engrossed in their notes, glad they weren't the ones in the spotlight.

I tried to refocus on the lesson, but his words kept replaying in my mind. "Pay attention or leave." As if I didn't already feel like I was on the verge of falling apart.

I blinked back the tears that had gathered in my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself. This wasn't the first time someone made me feel small, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But I wasn't going to let him-or anyone-see how much it affected me.

I sat there, silent and still, pretending to take notes, even though I hadn't absorbed a word since he'd called me out. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity until the class was finally over.

As soon as Professor Oberoi dismissed us, I packed my things in a hurry, keeping my head down as I darted out of the classroom before anyone else could say anything or offer a pitying look.

The moment I stepped outside, the weight of the situation hit me again, and I sucked in a shaky breath. I had wanted college to be different-a fresh start-but it already felt like I was drowning.

I glanced back at the building, knowing I'd have to face Professor Oberoi again soon. And I knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going to make this year easy for me.

( He is 😭 going to heal her in a way no one treated her.)

After the embarrassing encounter with Professor Oberoi, I felt lost as I wandered around the bustling campus. It was supposed to be a fresh start, but all I could think about was how I had made a fool of myself on my first day. The laughter and chatter of other students felt like a distant echo as I sought a quiet corner to gather my thoughts.

As I turned the corner of a building, I spotted a bench in a shaded area of the campus garden. I sank onto it, trying to catch my breath. I pulled out my sketchbook, hoping that losing myself in my drawings might help me forget the day's earlier humiliation.

"Hey little kid so sad? Why?" asked a boy I dont even know . He seemed so cool that i didn't have any courage to talk to him.

"I.. noth..ing.. umm i don't know" i sturred as i was not feeling good and with a stiffed chest.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "C'mon, it's okay to be sad. We all have our moments. I'm Ravik, by the way," he said, extending a hand as if to pull me out of my shell.

I hesitated, then took his hand briefly. "Abhiya," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ravik leaned against the bench, looking at my sketchbook. "What are you drawing? It must be something interesting if it's enough to keep you here sulking."

"It's just...nothing special," I stammered, flipping the pages to hide the sketches. But he was persistent, peering closer as if trying to decipher my thoughts.

"Hey, don't hide it! I'm genuinely curious. Art has a way of capturing emotions, you know?" His enthusiasm was unexpected, breaking through my gloom.

I took a deep breath, torn between vulnerability and the urge to retreat further into myself. "It's just a sketch of the campus," I finally said, turning the book toward him reluctantly.

He studied it for a moment, his expression shifting from curiosity to admiration. "This is really good, Abhiya! You've captured the vibe perfectly. You should be proud of it."

I felt a small spark of pride ignite, pushing back the heaviness of the day. "Thanks. I just use it to escape sometimes," I admitted, my voice softening.

Ravik nodded knowingly. "We all need an escape. Mine's basketball. Dribbling around the court helps me clear my head," he said, gesturing animatedly. "You should come watch a game sometime. It's a great way to let loose!"

I couldn't help but smile at his infectious energy. "I don't think I'd be very good at basketball," I replied, but the idea intrigued me.

"Who cares about being good? It's all about having fun! I'll teach you some basics if you're up for it," he offered, his enthusiasm shining through.

"Okay, maybe I'll think about it," I said, the corners of my mouth lifting in a smile.

"Good! And remember, it's just one day. You'll have plenty of chances to make it a great year," he said, nudging me playfully.

For the first time that day, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought. Maybe this unexpected encounter with Ravik was a sign that things could get better after all.

"You are too cute yaarr " ravik said with bright eyes and I was like me and whyy.."Me.. me.. I am not good enough for anything" i bluterred out and he said " You don't know but You have something that other girls don't have here".

His words hung in the air, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. For the first time that day, I felt a flicker of hope igniting in my chest.

"Really?" I asked, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity, but all I found was kindness.

"Absolutely. Trust me," he said, his confidence making me feel a little lighter. "You'll see. This year is just the beginning, and it's going to be amazing. Plus, I'll be here cheering you on."

A small smile crept onto my face, the heaviness of my earlier embarrassment starting to lift. "Thanks, Ravik. That means a lot," I replied, feeling an unexpected warmth from his words.

"Anytime. Now, how about we grab some coffee and talk about your sketches? I'm curious to see more," he suggested, his enthusiasm contagious.

"Sure, I'd like that," I said, feeling a sense of camaraderie that I hadn't anticipated.

As we walked toward the café together, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I had found a friend in this unfamiliar place. With Ravik by my side, the weight of the day didn't seem so heavy anymore, and for the first time, I felt like I could face whatever challenges lay ahead.