The days afterward passed in a blur of nothingness. The same old routine, the same circle of faces—but a growing sense of happiness hovered around us like a soft cloud. By now, we had all become more than friends. We were a family. Each day melted into laughter and inside jokes, secrets shared under desks, and spontaneous snack raids.
Celine remained exactly the same—fiercely protective, overdramatic, and aggressively affectionate in her own cupcake-queen way. She was always in the middle of everything, claiming emotional territory like a cat. It was exhausting. And oddly comforting. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine a version of life where she wasn’t right there, being extra.
Then, like a sudden gust of wind in a still room, the announcement came.
A three-day school trip.
To a hill station.
The words hit the classroom like lightning. For a second, no one moved. Then—chaos.
Voices rose, desks shook, and chairs scraped as students leaned across aisles to confirm what they’d just heard. The teacher barely finished her sentence before the whole room exploded into squeals, gasps, and wide-eyed grins.
“A hill station?”
“THREE days?”
“No parents?”
“Dude, this is going to be epic.”
It wasn’t just a trip—it was a portal. A three-day escape from the blandness of our routine lives. Away from tiffins, tuition, and tired lectures. The kind of break that only comes once in a while, especially in 11th grade, when life feels like it’s slowly tightening around your neck with expectations and syllabus weight.
The thought of cold air brushing past our faces, sitting by bonfires in hoodies, stealing selfies on misty roads, and dancing in cramped hotel rooms—it was intoxicating.
For a few moments, even the people who barely spoke in class were caught up in the storm of excitement. Everyone was dreaming the same dream.
We weren’t just going on a trip.
We were going to make memories that would be talked about for the rest of the year, maybe even after that.
But as the plans started forming around me, I sat frozen in my seat.
Because deep down, I knew…
This dream didn’t belong to me.
Not unless I could somehow change the ending.
Noticing my quiet face in the middle of all the shrieking excitement, Sara slipped in beside me like she always did.
“Hey, what happened? Why do you look like someone told you the trip is canceled?”
I gave her a weak smile. “You know my parents… They’re not going to allow it.”
She frowned—but only for a second. Then, like a switch flipped, a smirk took over her face.
That Sara smirk.
“You leave this to me,” she said, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Sara...” I warned.
But she was already scheming.
That evening, we were at the dinner table. Plates clinked quietly. The fan whirred overhead. I decided to go for it.
“Uhm… a school trip is being planned,” I began cautiously. “It’s just for three days. Everyone’s going. I’d really like to go too.”
My mom didn’t even hesitate.
“No,” she said simply.
Just like that.
I nodded silently and kept eating, pretending I hadn’t expected any other response. But still… something stung. The rejection wasn’t new, but the disappointment felt fresh every single time.
Dinner ended in silence. I got up and began to head to my room, trying to shake it off. That’s when Mom’s phone rang.
I paused.
“Hello?” she answered. “Oh hey, Sara, how are you dear?”
I froze mid-step.
Wait. Sara?
My best friend Sara?
What is she doing?
“Oh yeah, the school trip,” my mom continued. “She was mentioning it earlier. What about it?”
Now she had put the phone on speaker. I turned slowly, holding my breath.
Sara launched into her speech like she’d rehearsed it all day.
“Well aunty, I wanted to ask you if you could please let her come with us. Everyone’s going, and it’s only three days! Next year we might not even get the chance. Please aunty. Pleaaaaseeee.”
She said it all in one breath, like if she paused, the magic would break.
My mother frowned slightly, but before she could answer, my dad spoke up from across the room.
“Let her go,” he said calmly. “They won't get moments like this again. Once they graduate, they might never even meet again. Right, Sanvya?”
His eyes met mine. There was a softness in them. One I hadn’t seen in a while.
I nodded, barely holding back my surprise. “Yes, Dad. You’re right.”
“Yes, uncle. You’re right!” Sara added quickly from the phone.
My mom still looked unsure. Her fingers tapped against her plate. She was calculating every possible danger in her mind, I could tell.
But after some more persuasion from Dad and Sara—who was now a certified negotiation ninja—she finally sighed.
“Okay. Fine,” she said.
A wave of relief crashed over me.
“Okay,” she said at last. “But listen carefully. I know you asked her to call. Don’t do this again.”
I grinned. “I didn’t tell her anything, promise!”
She narrowed her eyes. I zipped my lips and hurried to my room before she changed her mind.
A message pinged as soon as I jumped on the bed.
Sara: See? I can persuade the lioness.
I burst out laughing, and just like that, we were back to memes, voice notes, and chaotic conversations.
The next day, Dad gave me the money for the trip. I went to school practically floating. Everyone was buzzing, finalizing plans, talking about outfits and snacks and playlists. Everyone from our friend group was going—except Reine and Sanvi, whose parents had said no too. We felt their absence already, but tried to include them in the pre-trip hype anyway.
Shopping was the next step. Mom took me out to pick up a few essentials. We bought a pastel green crop top and a black one, along with a few basics. She even let me choose a pair of sunglasses, though she still looked skeptical the whole time.
A few days later, we were finally all set for our dream trip.
Then the school dropped the bomb.
No mobile phones allowed.
Only digital cameras, if we really wanted to take pictures.
The entire class fell into chaos. We were stunned. No phones? How would we click pictures? How would we post stories, send updates, or text our parents?
I told my parents about the new rule that evening.
They rejected it immediately.
“No, you're taking your phone,” my dad said. “We need to be able to contact you. Non-negotiable.”
Sara’s parents felt the same. And honestly, most of our parents did. We started planning quietly—discussions of secret zippers, hidden pouches, phone cases that looked like power banks.
We couldn’t trust our teacher-in-charge either. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, that one. We’d have to be smart.
Trip Day.
I barely slept.
The excitement—and nerves—kept me wired all night. My bag had been packed and repacked thrice. I kept texting Prajwal about every little thing. My outfit. My bag’s weight. The fact that I was maybe smuggling a phone.
He, as usual, replied like he was doing me a favour.
Dry. Half-asleep. One-word answers.
Still, at 2:30 AM, just minutes before I was about to leave, a final message popped up on my screen.
Prajwal: Hey, have a happy journey and stay safe.
Five simple words.
But they made me smile anyway.
By 3 AM, I was at school, standing at a quiet corner with Mom. The air was crisp, filled with sleepy chatter and zipped luggage.
Suddenly, Celine marched up to us, fresh as ever.
“Hey aunty! I’m Celine—Sanvya’s best friend!” she announced like it was a royal title.
I rolled my eyes. “What is she even up to now…”
“Aunty, why are you standing here all alone? Come with me! All the parents are huddled there. Come, come!”
She took Mom’s hand and dragged her off. I trailed behind, watching in disbelief as she somehow got my mom to laugh in less than a minute.
While we mingled, I heard Maya’s mom say loudly,
“The teacher has strictly said no mobile phones are allowed. None.”
I froze mid-step.
No. No no no no no.
I turned to look at Mom. Her face was already shifting—the worry, the suspicion, the protective frown creeping in like a shadow.
She glanced at me sharply.
“Give me your phone,” she said. “If the teacher’s being strict, I don’t think you need to carry it. Hand it over.”
My stomach dropped.
Panic bubbled up in my throat.
Everything we’d planned—the sneaky photos, the secret updates, the backup plan if anything went wrong…
And worse—the plan for Celine and Dev, a.k.a. Cupcake and Munchkin, to use my phone as their personal hotline for the next three days.
Because Celine’s parents hadn’t allowed her to bring her phone. And Dev, ever the lovestruck munchkin, was already counting on me to deliver his good morning texts, cheesy one-liners, and Celine’s 600 daily mood swings.
Just the night before, I had gotten this:
Dev:
Bro pls carry your phone. I’ll be texting YOU. But it’s for HER. Ur the middleman. The chosen one. The WiFi Cupid.
I had replied with one word:
Traumatized.
But I’d agreed.
Because let’s face it, nothing was more dramatic—or entertaining—than being the proxy phone between two hormonal teens trying to whisper sweet nothings over typed text.
And now?
All. That. Was. About. To. Go. Down. The. Drain.
I looked around frantically.
Where was Sara? She could distract my mom with emotional logic and puppy eyes.
Where was anyone who could pull me out of this spiral?
I was one glare away from being stripped of my lifeline.
One word away from disaster.
_____________________________________
Hey lil loves.
The next chapter will be uploaded shortly.
love you all!!
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