We Survived!!

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Alright. So maybe—maybe—this wasn't my best idea.

But hey, we got away with it. That's what matters, right?

I mean, sure, we had to run for our lives, dodge an angry teacher, hide in a science lab, and make up some bullcrap excuse—but we survived.

And that, my friends, is a win.

Tejas leaned back against the bench, arms crossed, smirking like he was some kind of criminal mastermind. "The Great Cafeteria Heist of the Year," he repeated, shaking his head. "Legendary."

Muskaan grinned. "Iconic, really."

Dakshi, on the other hand, looked done with all of us. "You guys are idiots."

"And yet, here you are, hanging out with us," I pointed out, flashing her a grin. "Face it, Dakshi, you love the chaos."

She huffed, crossing her arms, but I caught the way her lips twitched—like she was trying not to smile.

Armaan, still catching his breath, shot me a glare. "You almost got us caught."

I gasped dramatically. "Me? Excuse me, sir, but if anything, I made that chase fun. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" Armaan gave me a look. "You literally screamed, 'CATCH US IF YOU CAN, SIR' before running."

"That—" I pointed a finger at him. "—was a moment of pure adrenaline and excitement. Don't ruin it with your logic."

"You're an idiot."

"And proud."

Tejas stretched lazily. "So, what now? We have, like, thirty minutes before the next class."

Muskaan perked up. "Cafeteria? Round two?"

Dakshi groaned. "Absolutely not."

"Library?" Armaan suggested.

"Gross," I said immediately. "What are we, nerds?"

"You literally failed your last maths test," Dakshi deadpanned.

"Exactly," I said. "That's why I avoid studying. If I don't see my grades, they don't exist."

Tejas laughed. "Flawless logic, really."

Muskaan clapped her hands. "Okay, new plan! Let's just chill somewhere where no teacher will find us."

Dakshi frowned. "*That's impossible. They have eyes everywhere."

I smirked. "Not if we hide somewhere unexpected."

Armaan gave me a suspicious look. "Harsh, whatever you're thinking, stop."

"Too late!" I grinned, already making my way toward the old storeroom behind the gym. "Follow me, nerds!"

Muskaan ran after me, laughing. Tejas followed, dragging a protesting Armaan. Dakshi sighed but still walked along because, at this point, she knew resistance was useless.

And just like that, we were onto our next great adventure.

The old storeroom behind the gym was exactly what you'd expect—dusty, a little creepy, and packed with forgotten school junk. Broken chairs, old trophies, half-deflated basketballs. You name it, it was probably shoved in some dark corner.

"This is your brilliant hiding spot?" Dakshi raised an eyebrow at me, clearly unimpressed. "Do you want us to get haunted or something?"

"Oh please," I scoffed. "Ghosts don't exist."

"Famous last words," Armaan muttered under his breath.

Tejas, ever the opportunist, was already poking around. "Yo, look at this!" He pulled out a really old cricket bat. "Vintage, man. I bet some school legend used this back in the day."

Muskaan snorted. "Or some PE teacher just forgot about it."

Tejas ignored her, still admiring the bat like it was some priceless artifact.

Meanwhile, I flopped onto an old mattress lying in the corner. "Ah, home sweet home."

"That's disgusting," Dakshi deadpanned. "You don't even know where that's been."

"Exactly!" I said, stretching. "Mystery adds character."

"Mystery adds tetanus," Armaan corrected.

I waved him off. "Details, details."

Muskaan and Dakshi eventually settled onto some old gym mats, while Tejas and Armaan dragged a couple of chairs into a circle. And just like that, our top-secret hideout was officially established.

"So," Muskaan said, leaning forward, "what now?"

I smirked. "Scary stories?"

Dakshi shook her head. "You'll just make something up on the spot."

"And?"

"And it'll be dumb."

"Rude," I said, holding a hand to my chest like she'd personally wounded me.

"But not inaccurate," Armaan pointed out.

I gasped. "Et tu, Brute?"

Muskaan threw a crumpled piece of paper at me. "Just start already."

I grinned. "Alright, kids. Gather around. Let me tell you the completely true story... of the Ghost of Storeroom 13."

Armaan groaned. "That's literally this storeroom."

"Exactly!" I wiggled my fingers in the air, making spooky noises. "It all started years ago, when a student mysteriously vanished right from this very room."

Dakshi rolled her eyes, but Muskaan leaned in. "Go on."

"Legend has it," I continued, dropping my voice to a dramatic whisper, "his spirit still haunts this place, waiting... watching... looking for revenge..."

Just as I finished my sentence, something in the back of the room creaked.

We all froze.

Armaan's head whipped around. "What was that?"

"Probably just the wind," Tejas said, but even he sounded uncertain.

Then, from the shadows, there was another creak—this time, closer.

Muskaan grabbed my arm. "Harsh—"

"Okay, nope," Dakshi said, standing up. "I am not staying here."

"It's just old furniture settling," I said, but I wasn't so sure anymore.

Then—BANG!

Something fell in the darkness.

Muskaan screamed.

Dakshi jumped.

Tejas swore.

And me?

I ran for my life.

"COWARD!" Armaan yelled after me, but let's be real—I was already halfway to the door myself.

Tejas shoved past me. "Move, move, move!"

Muskaan and Dakshi were practically climbing over each other to get out.

"Wait—GUYS—" I started, but before I could even think about what was happening, we all crashed into each other at the door.

"STOP PUSHING!" Dakshi shouted.

"WHY ARE YOU BLOCKING THE DOOR!?" Tejas yelled back.

"IT'S LOCKED!!"

A heavy silence fell over us.

"Excuse me, what?" Muskaan asked weakly.

I turned the handle. Nothing.

Dakshi tried it. Still nothing.

Tejas groaned. "Tell me you're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Dakshi shot back.

Armaan, who had his back pressed against the far wall, slowly processed what just happened. "So, uh... we're... stuck?*"

A beat of silence.

Then, Muskaan shook me. "HARSH, THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!"

Alright. Alright. Maybe—just maybe—this wasn't my best idea.

I mean, who could've predicted that the stupid storeroom door would lock itself? Not me. Not my problem. Well... okay, fine. It was my problem. But in my defense, I didn't plan this!

"HARSH, THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" Muskaan was still shaking me like a ragdoll.

"HOW is this my fault?!" I spluttered, trying to pry her hands off me. "I didn't lock the door!"

"You brought us here!"

"And you followed!"

Dakshi groaned. "God, both of you shut up! We need to figure out how to get out of here!"

"Yeah, before we actually become ghosts," Armaan muttered.

Tejas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay, okay, let's think logically. Maybe it's jammed. Let's all push together."

We gathered at the door and counted to three.

One... two... three—nothing.

Dakshi let out a frustrated sigh and kicked the door. "This school is literally falling apart, but now the door wants to be strong?"

"I swear, we're gonna die in here," Muskaan muttered, sinking to the floor dramatically. "I don't want to die in a storeroom, Harsh. It's dusty here."

"Stop being dramatic," I said, also very much panicking. "We'll get out. Eventually."

"Eventually?" Armaan gave me a look. "You mean after we turn into skeletons?"

"At least we'll be cool skeletons," I shrugged.

Dakshi threw a dusty old book at me.

"Ow! Rude.*"

"Rude? Harsh, we are trapped!"

"Yes, and yelling at me won't magically open the door, Dakshi!"

"*No, but it's therapeutic!"

Tejas groaned, running a hand down his face. "Why are we like this?"

Before I could answer, Muskaan perked up. "Wait. What if we try shouting for help?"

We all exchanged looks.

Then, in perfect sync—

"HELP!!!"

Our voices boomed through the storeroom.

Silence.

"I don't think anyone heard us," Armaan said, looking mildly betrayed.

"Or they heard us and just don't care," Tejas muttered.

"That's worse," I admitted.

"Okay, Plan B," Dakshi said, glancing at Tejas. "You're a sports captain. Don't you have a phone?"

Tejas patted his pockets. Then frowned.

Then patted them again.

"Don't." Dakshi's eyes narrowed. "Tell me you did not leave your phone in your bag."

Tejas looked anywhere but at her. "...I could tell you that. But I'd be lying."

"Oh my god," Muskaan groaned. "Tejas!"

"I panicked, okay?!"

"And you call yourself Captain Eggs," I shook my head. "What a disappointment."

"Shut up, Harsh."

"*With pleasure. As soon as we get out of here!"

Muskaan stood up. "Okay, Plan C: let's make noise. Someone has to hear us."

I grinned. "Finally, something I'm good at."

We immediately started banging on the door, kicking boxes, even whacking the walls with old cricket bats. Basically? We were causing a riot.

And then—

"WHAT is going on here?!"

We froze.

That voice.

That terrifying, nightmare-inducing, spine-chilling voice.

Slowly, all of us turned toward the tiny window in the storeroom door.

And there she was.

Ms. Vividha.

Spectacles sliding to the tip of her nose. Death glare locked on us.

We were so screwed.

Welp. We're dead.

Ms. Duvidha—I mean Vividha—was standing outside the storeroom, peering at us through the tiny window like a vengeful spirit. The way her glasses had slid to the tip of her nose, combined with that lethal glare? Yeah. This was the moment I realized I would never graduate. My academic future had been buried right here, in the dusty depths of the school storeroom.

I felt Muskaan stiffen beside me. "Guys," she whispered, "if we don't make it out alive, I want my funeral to have a dance performance."

"Shut up, Muskaan," Dakshi muttered, looking equally horrified.

"WELL?" Ms. Vividha's voice snapped us out of our silent breakdowns. "WHAT are you all doing inside the storeroom?"

Armaan, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat. "Uh, actually, Ma'am—"

"DON'T LIE!" she cut him off before he could even start.

"I wasn't lying yet," Armaan mumbled.

"Yet?!" she shrieked.

"Bad choice of words, bad choice of words," Tejas muttered under his breath.

"So!" Ms. Vividha inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. "First, you disrupt my Maths class. Then, you disappear from the classroom. And now, I find you here? Creating a fish market inside the school's storeroom?!"

Muskaan whispered to me, "Didn't she say earlier that she didn't know if this was a fish market or a fashion show or a stand-up comedy club?"

I bit back my laugh. I wasn't about to dig my own grave.

"SILENCE!" Ms. Vividha snapped, eyes scanning all of us like a predator. "*I want an explanation. NOW!"

We exchanged looks. Who was going to take the bullet for this?

Not me.

Definitely not me.

Tejas, ever the sacrificial goat, took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Uh, actually, Ma'am, we—"

BANG.

The storeroom door swung open before he could finish.

And there stood the Principal.

And the P.T. Sir.

And—oh great. The Discipline Incharge.

Freaking fantastic.

"What is happening here?" the Principal demanded, looking from us to Ms. Vividha. "Why were students locked inside the storeroom?"

I swear I saw Ms. Vividha stiffen at that. Probably realizing how bad this situation looked for her.

"Uh..." She cleared her throat, suddenly way less aggressive. "These students... um... bunked class and somehow ended up here. I was just about to... reprimand them, Sir.*"

The Principal turned to us. "And why did you bunk class?"

Silence.

What were we supposed to say? "Oh, we left class because our friend laughed too hard at a joke about Ms. Vividha calling the school a fish market-slash-fashion show-slash-stand-up comedy club?" Yeah, that would go great.

Muskaan, being Muskaan, decided that was the perfect moment to open her mouth. "Sir, you see, we were just—"

"Helping!" I interrupted, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "Yes! Helping!"

The Principal frowned. "Helping whom?"

Dakshi picked up on my bullshit and quickly jumped in. "Uh, Miss Rosy, Sir!"

Tejas nodded furiously. "Yes! She needed help with... uh... carrying things!"

"And you needed five people for that?"

Tejas froze. "Uh... teamwork, Sir?"

Armaan elbowed me. "This is a train wreck," he whispered.

No kidding.

The Principal didn't look convinced, but before he could say anything else, the P.T. teacher—who had been watching the whole scene—snorted. "Sir, if I may?"

The Principal gestured for him to continue.

P.T. Sir turned to Ms. Vividha and smirked. "If these kids are so disruptive, why is it that half the staff find your classroom the loudest in the school?"

OHHHHHHHHHHH.

The betrayal.

I saw Ms. Vividha's soul leave her body.

Dakshi clamped a hand over her mouth. Tejas looked like he was trying not to laugh out loud. Muskaan? She was loving this.

The Principal sighed, rubbing his temples. "Enough. All of you—go back to class. I will deal with this later."

We nodded and bolted.

Once we were far enough from the scene of the crime, we collapsed into laughter.

"Did you see Ms. Vividha's face?!" Armaan wheezed. "She looked like she was about to have a spiritual awakening or something!"

"That was the best thing I've ever seen in my life," Tejas grinned. "P.T. Sir is officially my favorite teacher."

"God bless that man," Muskaan said, wiping away tears. "My hero."

"Okay, okay," Dakshi said, still grinning. "Moral of the story: if you're going to bunk class, don't get locked in a storeroom."

"And always have an escape plan," Armaan added.

"And never, EVER let Harsh speak first," Tejas smirked. "Seriously, bro. 'Helping'?!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up."

We walked back to class, still laughing.

And for the first time ever, Maths didn't seem so unbearable anymore.

We walked towards the classroom, still buzzing from what had just happened. I swear, this was the closest I'd ever been to a death sentence.

Tejas nudged me. "Bro, brace yourself. The moment we step inside, it's going to be an interrogation chamber in there."

He wasn't wrong. As we reached the door, we could already see a bunch of curious heads turned our way through the tiny glass window. The entire class was waiting. Like a pack of hungry hyenas waiting to pounce on fresh gossip.

Muskaan was the first to push the door open. She strolled in as if she had just returned from a luxury vacation, not from almost getting suspended. Armaan followed, grinning like a troublemaker who knew he had caused chaos but didn't regret a single second of it.

I stepped in next, alongside Tejas and Dakshi. And oh boy.

It was instant.

Before we could even take our seats, half the class exploded with whispers. The other half straight-up turned around in their seats to bombard us with questions.

"Where were you guys?!"

"Did you really get locked in the storeroom?!"

"What did Ms. Vividha do?!"

"Did she actually scream at you in front of the Principal?!"

"I heard P.T. Sir roasted her—IS IT TRUE?!"

"DID YOU GUYS GET SUSPENDED?!"

Niyati was the only one still sitting primly in her seat, arms crossed, staring at us like a disappointed mother. "You all are impossible," she muttered. "Completely impossible."

"Oh, come on, Niya," Muskaan flopped into her chair dramatically. "Live a little!"

"Live a little?!" Niyati scoffed. "You were one step away from getting kicked out of school!"

"And yet," Armaan smirked, sliding into his seat. "Here we are. Unscathed. Legends. Immortals."

"Idiots," Niyati corrected.

Meanwhile, the questioning from the rest of the class continued.

"Guys, tell us what happened!"

"How did you even get out of the storeroom?"

"Wait—wait—WHO talked back to Ms. Vividha?"

I barely had time to process all the incoming questions before Tejas climbed onto his chair and spread his arms dramatically. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he announced, "let me tell you the glorious tale of how we—THE SURVIVORS OF VIVIDHA—escaped from the jaws of academic doom!"

Dakshi facepalmed. "Oh god."

But the class was hooked. "TELL US, O GREAT TEJAS!" someone called out.

Muskaan, obviously, encouraged it. "Yes, Captain Eggs, narrate our saga!"

I swear, I saw Tejas preen at that. "It all started," he began, "when we, the noble warriors of Class 12, were unfairly exiled from the sacred halls of education by the one and only Demon Queen, Ms. Vividha—"

"TEJAS, JUST GET TO THE POINT!" Niyati snapped.

But no one was listening to her. The entire class was laughing as Tejas continued his ridiculous storytelling, exaggerating every little thing. He mimicked Muskaan's "dramatic gasp" when she saw Ms. Vividha outside the storeroom. He reenacted the way Armaan had stammered while trying to make excuses. He made Dakshi seem like she had single-handedly fought off the Discipline Incharge with sass alone.

I swear, by the time he finished, the class was in tears from laughing. Even I had to admit—it was hilarious.

Ms. Vividha wasn't in the room anymore (thank god), but before the lesson could continue, our English teacher, Ms. Rosy, walked in.

The class immediately tried to act normal.

Well. Tried.

Because Tejas was still standing on his chair.

"Mr. Sisodia, sit down," Ms. Rosy sighed, setting her books on the table. "What is going on here?"

Niyati, ever the snitch, replied, "Ma'am, they bunked class and got locked in the storeroom."

"Niyati!" Muskaan gasped. "Et tu, brute?!"

Ms. Rosy raised an eyebrow at us. "The storeroom?"

I cleared my throat. "It's a long story, Ma'am."

She sighed again, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "I don't even want to know. Just sit down and behave."

And with that, class resumed.

Well, sort of.

Because every few minutes, someone from the back would whisper something like—

"Bro, P.T. Sir totally destroyed Vividha today."

"Harsh, you're officially a legend for that comment in class."

"Muskaan, how did you even laugh that loudly?!"

"Armaan, what were you even trying to say when you started stammering?!"

And so on.

It took all of Ms. Rosy's patience (and three separate threats of extra homework) to get everyone to finally shut up.

But even as I pretended to pay attention, I could still see Tejas grinning like a madman from the corner of my eye.

Muskaan nudged me and whispered, "Best day ever?"

I smirked. "Best day ever."

The class had finally settled down—well, at least on the surface. Ms. Rosy was writing something on the board, but I could feel the suppressed energy in the room. Every now and then, someone would turn around to glance at us, barely holding back a grin. Tejas, being the absolute menace that he was, kept making exaggerated expressions behind Ms. Rosy's back, causing Armaan and Muskaan to choke on their laughter.

Me? I was just waiting.

Waiting for the inevitable.

Because no way in hell were we getting away with today's chaos so easily.

And right on cue—

"Excuse me, Ma'am," a voice came from the door.

We all turned to see a student standing there, holding a pink slip of paper. My stomach dropped.

A summon slip.

The entire class froze.

Ms. Rosy took the slip, glanced at it, then looked directly at me, Muskaan, Tejas, Dakshita and Armaan.

"The five of you," she said, raising an eyebrow. "To the Principal's office. Now."

Dead. We were dead.

Muskaan and Tejas exchanged a look. The kind that said "Okay, which one of us is writing our will first?"

Armaan sighed dramatically and leaned back in his chair. "Welp. It was nice knowing you all."

The class was dead silent as we stood up. Everyone was just staring.

"Pray for us," Muskaan whispered to Niyati, who looked at us half-annoyed, half-concerned.

Niyati sighed and muttered, "You all deserve this."*

Gee. Thanks for the support.

As we walked out of the classroom, the whispers erupted.

"Bro, they're done for."

"Do you think they'll get suspended?"

"Wait, what if they get their parents called?!"

Okay, that last one made me nervous. My parents were already convinced that Tejas was a bad influence on me. If they found out about today? I was so getting a two-hour lecture on "choosing better friends."

We made our way through the corridor, the pink slip still clutched in Ms. Rosy's hands as she led us toward our impending doom.

"Okay, game plan," Armaan whispered as we walked. "If we get yelled at, we apologize. No arguing. No stupid comebacks. No sarcasm— Muskaan, I'm looking at you."*

"Excuse me?" Muskaan scoffed. "I am the picture of politeness."

Tejas snorted. "Sure. And I'm the President of India."

"Focus, idiots," I muttered. "We just need to make sure they don't call our parents. That's priority number one."

Muskaan groaned. "Ugh, fine. But if they try to give us detention, I'm arguing my way out of it."

"You arguing is the reason we're in this mess!" Armaan hissed.

We reached the Principal's office before Muskaan could argue back. Ms. Rosy knocked once before stepping in.

The moment we entered, I saw Ms. Vividha already inside.

Oh, we were so done.

She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, looking like she had personally been sent by the universe to ruin our lives. Next to her, the Principal sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable.

"So," he began, lacing his fingers together. "Would one of you like to explain why half the staff is talking about your... incident today?"

...

Okay.

Time to see if we could talk our way out of this.

I couldn't afford my parents being called.

If. I. Wanted. To. Survive.

I gulped. Okay. Deep breaths. We could talk our way out of this.

I hoped.

The Principal's eyes scanned over us like a hawk surveying its prey. Next to him, Ms. Vividha adjusted her glasses in that infamous way of hers—the same way she did before giving a long, painful lecture.

"Well?" the Principal prompted.

I glanced at Tejas, silently praying he'd say something smart for once. Instead, he just smirked. This idiot.

"Sir, it was all a misunderstanding," he said smoothly, stepping forward with his hands in his pockets like he was casually explaining why he forgot his homework, not why we had caused an entire classroom rebellion.

Ms. Vividha scoffed. "Misunderstanding?" she repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tejas nodded. "Yes, ma'am! You see, we were just having a healthy discussion about classroom environment and—"

I elbowed him. Hard.

"Ow! Harsh, what—"

"Sir," I quickly cut in, "We may have... disrupted the class a little."

"A little?!" Ms. Vividha's voice rose. "You turned my class into a fish market! No—no, I take that back. A fashion show! No, wait—what was it? Oh yes! A stand-up comedy club!"

Muskaan tried—tried—to hold back her laughter. She failed. A snort escaped before she could slap a hand over her mouth.

I internally screamed.

The Principal let out a slow, tired sigh, rubbing his temple. He looked so done.

"Is this funny to you, Ms. Rajput?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Muskaan instantly wiped the amusement off her face. "No, sir. Of course not, sir. I take education very seriously, sir."

Armaan coughed to cover his laugh.

The Principal pinched the bridge of his nose. "You five—"

"Sir, if I may," Ms. Vividha interrupted, straightening up. "These students have zero respect for discipline! I say we give them proper punishment—"

"We're really sorry, sir," I said quickly, cutting her off before she could suggest something insane like writing a ten-page essay on "Why Discipline Is Important." "It won't happen again."

"Oh, it won't?" she scoffed.

"No, ma'am!" Armaan jumped in. "We will be the most well-behaved students in the entire school from now on. You won't even hear us breathe."

Tejas nodded enthusiastically. "Silent as the wind, sir."

Muskaan joined in. "So quiet, it'll be like we don't even exist."

Ms. Vividha narrowed her eyes. "Hmph. I'll believe it when I see it."

The Principal leaned back in his chair. "Ms. Vividha, since it was your class, what punishment do you suggest?"

I stiffened.

Oh, no. Oh, no no no.

A smug smile appeared on her face. She adjusted her glasses again, enjoying the power she now held over us.

"Since they find my class so entertaining," she said sweetly, "I think they should spend extra time with me."

What.

"Sir, I suggest they stay back after school for an extra maths session for the next week."

Muskaan made a strangled noise. Armaan and Tejas both looked like they wanted to die. I? I was already mourning my lost freedom.

"That sounds reasonable," the Principal said, nodding. "Starting today. You four will stay back for remedial maths sessions."

This was hell.

But—hey. At least our parents wouldn't be called. Small victories.

Ms. Vividha smirked. "See you after school, dear students."

Muskaan looked like she was actually considering committing a crime.

And that's how we walked out of the office—defeated, doomed to suffer through extra maths.

This was officially the worst day ever.

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