The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the quiet hum of determination. Kiara sat at her usual table, surrounded by stacks of papers and textbooks, each page a reminder of the relentless pursuit of excellence.
The clock ticked steadily, a timer marking the rhythm of her anxiety. Even with the pages of her notes open in front of her, her mind wandered to the one person who had managed to distract her from her studies - Vihaan Malhotra.
Across the room, Vihaan sat with his signature calm, flipping through a textbook as if the answers were already written in the margins. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he wore an expression that suggested he was savoring the moment rather than studying for an impending exam.
Kiara caught herself glancing at him more often than she should, her heart racing whenever their eyes met.
Their rivalry had taken on a new dimension in recent weeks. No longer was it just a battle for first place; it had become a complicated web of unspoken emotions, of silent admissions that neither dared to voice. Kiara felt the familiar pang of frustration mixed with something far deeper, something she couldn’t quite name.
The competition had intensified with the announcement of a prestigious scholarship that would cover tuition for the remainder of their studies. Whispers among the students hinted at a surprise twist: only one student would be awarded the scholarship this year, turning their rivalry into a personal race against time.
“Focus, Kiara,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head to get rid of the thoughts of Vihaan. She needed to concentrate, to plan her study sessions carefully. But the more she tried to push him from her mind, the more persistent he became, like a ghost haunting her workspace.
As the days passed, the tension grew palpable. Aria, Kiara's roommate, had been observing the silent war between the two.
“Are you two ever going to talk about it?” Aria asked one evening as they sat in their cramped dorm room, textbooks strewn across their beds. “You know, the whole…thing?”
“What thing?” Kiara replied, feigning ignorance as she flipped through her notes, her cheeks flushing.
“Oh, come on. It’s obvious that there’s something going on. You both can’t keep pretending that this is just about grades anymore.”
Kiara sighed, the weight of Aria’s words sinking in. “It’s not that simple. There’s too much at stake.”
“Or maybe there’s too much that you’re both not saying,” Aria countered, raising an eyebrow. “What if you don’t even know how he feels?”
The thought struck Kiara like lightning. What if Vihaan felt the same? What if he was waiting for her to make the first move? Her heart raced at the possibility, but fear gripped her. What if he didn't feel the same way?
Determined to keep her focus, Kiara spent the next few days immersed in her studies, trying to drown out her feelings. But during a particularly intense study session in the library, she overheard a conversation between two classmates.
“Remember the results are tomorrow?” one said. "Vihaan will generally hold the rank of number one as always," the other one said.
The mention of the result sent a shiver down Kiara’s spine. Would she be able to stand in front of Vihaan, knowing he would likely ace it, while she battled her nerves?
The following day, during a break between classes, Kiara found herself pacing outside the lecture hall. She needed to confront this new layer of their rivalry. And maybe, just maybe, confront Vihaan about everything else.
As she gathered her courage, she spotted him leaning against the wall, engrossed in a conversation with a new student, Maya, a charming and confident girl who had just transferred from another university. Kiara felt a pang of jealousy as she watched Maya laugh at something Vihaan said, his smile wide and infectious.
“Hey, Kiara!” Vihaan called out, noticing her standing there. “You should join us!”
Her heart raced, but she hesitated. This wasn’t the moment she had envisioned for confronting him. Instead, she forced a smile and shook her head. “I have to study. Good luck with the interviews, Vihaan.”
As she turned to leave, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Vihaan, his touch sending a jolt through her. “Wait. Can we talk?”
The world around them faded as she looked up into his eyes, searching for the right words. But before she could speak, a shadow fell over them.
“Excuse me,” Maya interjected, her voice smooth yet assertive. “Vihaan, we were just discussing the upcoming interview. I’d love your insights.”
Kiara’s heart sank as she stepped back, feeling the familiar distance growing between them. The moment slipped away, and she could only watch as Vihaan turned his attention back to Maya, leaving her standing there, once again, one step apart.
As she walked away, determination mixed with despair, Kiara knew she had to find a way to break through the walls they had both built. The stakes were higher than ever, and she refused to be just a second in his life.
Little did she know that the next few weeks would unravel not just their rivalry, but the very fabric of their relationship as they were both forced to confront their unspoken feelings and the truth about what it meant to fall for someone truly.
—————————
The next morning,
As I woke up, I realised..
It's the day of the result.
I reached the university and found that the notice board was already surrounded by students.
Of course it was.
I always hated crowds. Not because they made me nervous, they never did. Not about the things I prepared for. But.. Crowds meant whispers, and whispers meant comparison.
I adjusted the strap of my bag and walked forward anyway
Steady steps, face calm, chin up.
I had calculated this semester down to decimals. Every late-night revision. Every practice paper. Every sacrificed nap. I didn’t need luck.
I needed confirmation.
Someone moved aside.
And there it was.
Rank List – Semester III
My eyes scanned automatically.
First line.
Vihaan Malhotra.
Her jaw tightened.
Second line.
Kiara Mehta.
Just one line apart.
Again...
My expression didn't change, but the thoughts in my mind did.
Second.
Not bad.
Not failure.
Not disappointing.
Just... second.
Soon, my phone buzzed with messages from my parents.
Dad: Kitne aye? Top kiya?
Mumma: Any good news?
The word "good" suddenly felt heavy.
Behind me, someone whistled, making me come out of my thoughts.
“Consistent, Mehta.” His voice was low. Calm. Not mocking.
I didn’t turn immediately. I didn’t need to. I knew that voice. Knew the exact steady rhythm of it.
finally when I looked back. Vihaan Malhotra stood there like the results were a casual announcement and not a battleground. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Backpack slung over one shoulder. No celebration. No arrogance.
That was the worst part.
He didn’t act as if he won.
“You sound surprised,” I replied evenly.
His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Should I be?”
My fingers curled against the notebook. “Don’t get used to it.”
A pause.
He held my gaze longer than usual and replied, "Wouldn’t dream of it." And stepped away.
No smirk. No grin. Just calm.
I inhaled slowly.
Second.
It wasn’t about him.
It wasn’t.
It was about the dinner table tonight.
My father adjusting his glasses and saying, “So close.”
My mother smiling tight-lipped and adding, “Next time aim higher.”
It's like I didn't aim high enough already.
————————
The classroom was louder than usual that afternoon.
People congratulating. Comparing. Calculating percentages like stock market investors.
I took her usual seat by the window.
Sunlight fell across the open notebook, but I didn’t write anything. My mind was replaying the notice board in high definition. The comments of my parents, their disappointed faces, even though I ranked second. All of those stirring inside my mind.
A chair scraped beside me.
I didn't look. I didn’t need to.
“You planning revenge already?”
I finally glanced sideways.
He had taken the seat beside me. He never took that seat.
My eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”
He shrugged lightly. “Seat was empty.”
There were three other empty seats in the row.
“Don’t you have people congratulating you?” I asked.
“I don’t collect congratulations.” It was simple. Flat. Honest.
I didn’t know why, but that answer made me confused and doubtful.
“You should,” I muttered. “You earned them.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
His head turned slightly toward me.
“For someone who hates losing to me, that sounded suspiciously supportive.”
Heat rushed to my ears. I snapped the notebook shut. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t hate losing to you.” I lied. My biggest despise is losing to him.
“I just hate losing.”
His lips twitched, barely. Almost invisible. “I’ll remember that.” He said quietly and walked away as the professor walked in, ending the moment.
Yes, I like hearing his voice, getting to see him, talking to him, but I can't admit it as he might feel I'm weird, and of course im not the one for him.
But throughout the lecture, I felt it. Just… awareness. The way he paid attention when I answered the questions, he listened more intently than usual.
———————
That evening, at the dinner table, the conversation was predictable.
“Second?” her father repeated.
"Yes," She replied.
"by how many marks?" he asked coldly.
"Three"
“That’s manageable,” her mother said lightly. “Next semester you’ll top.”
No, “You did well.”
No, “You must be tired.”
Just strategy.
Kiara nodded and went to her room.
cuddled her favorite soft toy, and said, "Why am I never enough?"
No answer.
"Why do I never get appreciated? Even though I studied till 3 am, even skipped sleep, tried my best to make them proud, but not even a single "you did enough, beta."
....
Meanwhile, across the campus in a quiet room, Vihaan stared at the same rank list saved on his phone.
zoomed in a little.
2.] Kiara Mehta
"you are doing good" he said to himself, "just three marks."
Vihaan didn’t celebrate ranks.
Not because they didn’t matter.
But because the only reaction he waited for wasn’t applause.
It was hers.
He had memorized the way her expression shifted in milliseconds, the way her jaw tightened when she saw his name above hers. The way she went quiet instead of loud. The way she competed was like the world was watching.
He told himself it was rivalry.
He noticed when she skipped lunch.
when she rubbed her temples during lectures.
When her answers got sharper under pressure.
It was all because she was his competition.
It was easier to name it that.
But competition didn’t make your chest feel heavy when she looked exhausted.
Competition didn’t make you carry an extra pen because she once forgot hers.
Competition didn’t make you stand a little closer than necessary just to hear her breathe steadily when she was pretending not to care.
But he never reached for her.
Because every time she looked at him, there was fire in her eyes. And he had convinced himself that fire meant hatred.
So he did what he did best.
Stayed first.
Stayed distant.
Stayed careful.
But standing there, watching her walk away with that stubborn fire in her eyes
He realized something terrifying.
If she ever won…
If her name ever came before his,
He wouldn’t fight it.
He would let her.
Because somewhere between competing with her…
and watching her try too hard to breathe under pressure…
He had stopped wanting to defeat her. He just wanted her to look at him. And not like he was her enemy.
His phone buzzed. A message from his father:
Maintain Rank 1.
Vihaan locked his screen.
Three marks were all that stood between what everyone expected
And what he was about to risk.
And for the first time in his life…
He didn’t know if he wanted to stay first..
....
That was it for the first chapter. I hope you guys liked it. Do tell me your opinions in the comments!
Btw, who is your favorite among Kiara and Vihaan?
Thank you..
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