Rhea's Pov
Winning does funny things to people.
Back benchers celebrate it.
Front benchers remember it.
The next day, the classroom atmosphere felt… polished.
Too polished.
The front bench sat straighter than usual. Whispered instead of bragged. Smiled like they'd already planned something.
That's how you know trouble is scheduled.
Samar leaned back and murmured, "Why do they look like villains in the second half of a movie?"
Dev didn't look up from his notebook. "Because they are."
Neil was flipping through his book, calm. Focused.
Kabir stared out the window, unreadable as ever.
And me?
I was already irritated.
First Period – Surprise Test (Wow. Shock.)
The teacher walked in smiling.
That was our first warning.
"Pop test," she announced. "Based on yesterday's topics."
The front bench exchanged looks.
Oh.
So this was planned.
I glanced back at Samar. "They knew."
He smirked. "Of course they did. They probably dream in syllabus."
Pens scratched. Pages turned.
I answered what I could. Didn't panic. Didn't overthink.
Neil worked steadily.
Kabir didn't rush. He never does.
When the bell rang, the front bench looked satisfied.
That annoyed me more than failing ever could.
Results – Same Day (Cruel Timing)
The teacher read out marks.
Front benchers topped.
As expected.
Then—
"Neil."
Pause.
"Second highest."
The room shifted.
Whispers broke out like cracks in glass.
Neil looked surprised for exactly one second before masking it.
Kabir glanced at him. A small nod.
I grinned.
But the front bench?
They were no longer smiling.
One of them muttered—not quietly enough—
"Beginners luck."
I turned. "Careful. Luck gets offended when insulted."
The teacher cleared her throat sharply.
But damage?
Already done.
Break Time – The Line is Crossed
Near the notice board, a group of front benchers blocked Neil's path.
Subtle.
Calculated.
One of them spoke, fake-friendly. "Didn't know you were suddenly serious about studies."
Neil replied calmly, "I didn't know I needed permission."
Another added, "Just saying. Some people don't belong in certain ranks."
I stepped forward.
Bad idea? Probably.
Worth it? Absolutely.
"Ranks aren't reserved seats," I said. "This isn't a train."
One of them scoffed. "Why do back benchers always get defensive?"
Kabir spoke then.
Quiet. Clear. Deadly.
"Because you mistake seating position for superiority."
Silence.
People nearby stopped pretending not to listen.
The front bencher's jaw tightened. "This isn't over."
I smiled. "It never is. That's what makes it fun."
They walked off.
But I knew.
This wasn't petty anymore.
Last Period – Declaration Without Words
The teacher announced an upcoming Academic League Selection.
Top scorers. Group based. Competitive.
Front benchers straightened instantly.
Neil looked thoughtful.
Kabir closed his notebook.
Samar whispered, "Oh no."
I leaned back, smiling slowly.
"Oh yes."
Rhea's Thought (End Note)
They thought the back bench was a boundary.
A limitation.
They forgot one thing.
When people who were never expected to compete
decide to try—
it doesn't stay academic.
It becomes personal.
And this time?
We weren't backing down.😎