Aira Kapoor had exactly three goals for her first day at Northcrest High:
1. Don't make eye contact with weird people.
2. Don't talk to boys.
3. Don't repeat the disasters of her old school.
Simple. Peaceful. Foolproof.
At least… that's what she believed for the first forty-three seconds.
The moment she walked through the school gates, the universe decided to ruin her life with immediate effect. Students rushed everywhere, laughter bounced off the walls, teachers yelled instructions, and someone was blasting Bollywood remixes through a portable speaker. It felt like chaos dipped in caffeine.
Aira pulled her bag tighter against her shoulder and tried to breathe.
Fresh start.
New city.
New school.
No drama.
She took one step forward—
And slammed straight into someone's chest.
Her phone nearly flew out of her hands. She stumbled back, heart hammering.
"Oh—sorry!"
Then she looked up.
Mistake.
A big one.
The boy towering in front of her looked like trouble wrapped in a hoodie. Dark hair falling messily over his forehead, school tie hanging like it gave up on him, sleeves rolled, bag slung on one shoulder like he'd wrestled it.
His eyes swept over her slowly, like she'd personally offended him by existing.
He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Didn't even last a minute without crashing into someone."
Aira blinked. "I said sorry."
He leaned closer, smirk creeping up in the most irritating way possible. "Yeah, but are you bad at walking or just bad at life?"
Aira stared at him, speechless.
Was this guy… mentally okay?
She straightened up. "Wow. You're charming. In a punchable kind of way."
His smirk widened. "Feisty. Love that."
"I wasn't flirting."
"You think I need flirting to enjoy this?"
Aira was about to suggest where he could shove his enjoyment when someone rushed toward them.
"Aira!" a warm voice called.
Zayden Rao — her assigned student guide — skidded to a stop beside her, slightly out of breath. He offered a friendly smile before turning to the boy.
"Reyhan, dude, stop scaring the new kid."
Aira froze.
Reyhan?
THE Reyhan Malhotra?
The name half the school whispered like it was illegal to say.
Northcrest High's resident menace.
Certified chaos.
Rumored heartbreaker.
Walking headache.
Reyhan cocked his head at her. "New girl doesn't scare easy. That's… cute."
Aira glared. "Don't call me cute."
"Fine," he said casually, "adorable."
Zayden sighed into his hands. "Bro, stop. Please."
Reyhan took a step back, hands deep in his pockets as he walked backward with pure mischief in his eyes.
"Welcome to Northcrest, new girl. Try not to collide with anyone else. Especially me. You might fall in love."
Aira scoffed. "I'd rather fall into a ditch."
He winked. "Ditches don't wink back."
Before she could reply, he turned and walked away, students parting for him automatically — like he owned the school.
Aira exhaled slowly. "What is wrong with him?"
Zayden gave a helpless laugh. "Uh… he's Reyhan. That's the problem."
"Is he always like that?"
"Worse. Much worse."
Great.
Perfect.
Amazing first day.
Inside the classroom, Aira hunted for the safest place possible — back corner, by the window, away from drama.
She sat, pulled out her notebook, and felt hopeful for exactly four seconds.
A shadow fell across her desk.
Reyhan dropped into the seat beside her.
Aira stared. "Are you lost?"
"Nope," he answered easily. "This is my seat."
"It wasn't when I walked in."
"It is now."
"I'm not asking you to sit somewhere else. I'm telling you."
He placed an elbow on her desk, leaning in. "And I'm ignoring you."
Aira's jaw clenched. "Do you… enjoy irritating everyone or is it a natural talent?"
"It's natural," he said proudly. "But I can try harder if you want."
She dragged her chair an inch away. He dragged his an inch closer.
Zayden, sitting nearby, whispered urgently, "Just… don't engage. He feeds on reactions."
Reyhan turned toward him. "I heard that."
Aira let out a long, exhausted sigh and opened her notebook, writing in large, angry letters:
RULE #1: NEVER—
EVER—
TALK TO REYHAN MALHOTRA.
Reyhan leaned over and read it.
Then smirked like he'd just been handed his favorite toy.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, voice low enough only she could hear,
"You just made my entire week."
Aira shut her notebook so hard the desk shook.
This guy was a walking red flag.
And she was trapped beside him.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
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