The Staffroom Scandal
I continued down the long, echoing college hallway toward my next classroom, but the morning air suddenly felt thick with a different kind of tension. Up ahead, I spotted two familiar figures: Mr. Hulwan and Ananya.
They weren't just walking; they were holding hands.
My heart nearly stopped. What is with this school and hand-holding today? I wasn't the only witness, either. Ms. Patan was trailing just a few paces behind them, her sharp eyes fixed on their locked fingers with an expression that could have curdled milk.
I kept my distance, hovering at a range where I could just barely catch the frantic edge of their conversation. Mr. Hulwan was stammering, his face a frantic shade of crimson as he addressed Ms. Patan.
"I—I was about to fall down! Ananya was just helping me find my balance, that's why we were holding hands!"
I heard the excuse, but the math wasn't adding up. The way they were standing—the weird, electric tension vibrating between Mr. Hulwan and Ananya—didn't look like a "trip and fall." It looked like something much more complicated.
As soon as he could, Mr. Hulwan made a break for it, scurrying toward the staffroom and leaving the two women behind in a heavy, suffocating silence. I took a cautious step back, hoping to vanish into the shadows of the lockers and make my escape.
"Raj!"
The sudden, booming voice made me jump. I turned to see Ananya staring right at me.
"Hi?" I managed, offering a weak, awkward wave as I trudged toward them. The air around them felt ten degrees colder.
"Good morning, Ms. Patan," I greeted the teacher, trying to sound as neutral and "normal student" as possible.
Ms. Patan didn't look away from Ananya, but she acknowledged me with a stiff nod. "How is your study going, Raj? You got all the notes you needed from Mr. Hulwan yesterday, right?"
"Yes, I received them. Thank you," I said quickly, my eyes darting between the two of them.
The atmosphere was unbearable. Standing between them felt like being a referee caught in the middle of a championship ring, except the two rivals were staring each other down while the trophy—Mr. Hulwan—had already bolted for the exit.
"Well... see you later!" I blurted out.
I didn't wait for a response. I turned on my heel and hurried away, the weight of their silent feud pressing against my back. It seemed Ananya and I weren't the only ones navigating a minefield of "misunderstandings" today.
----
The Identical Lunch
The lunch break bell rang, echoing through the corridors like a signal for the daily social migration. Just as it had happened yesterday, Mr. Hulwan—my teacher—had invited me to share a meal with him. He had detoured toward the cafeteria to pick up some juice, leaving me to head toward the staff room alone.
"Hey, Raj!"
A voice, soft yet carrying an unmistakable kindness, cut through the ambient noise of slamming lockers and student chatter. I stopped and turned.
It was Ananya.
The effect of her calling my name was instantaneous. In the crowded hallway, the kinetic energy of the student body seemed to freeze. Boys and girls alike turned their heads, their expressions a mix of shock and burning curiosity. Being singled out by someone like Ananya was like having a spotlight suddenly dropped on a background extra.
She walked toward me, her pace steady, clutching a tiffin box in her hands.
"Let's eat lunch together," she said, offering a small smile.
"Oh! … I'm eating with Mr. Hulwan in the staff room," I replied, my eyes darting around. The weight of a hundred stares was already making me sweat. The students in the hallway had their eyes glued to us, their silent judgment heavy in the air. I just want to get out of this much attention, I thought, my skin crawling.
"Can I join you guys?" she asked.
"About that…" I hesitated. The staff room wasn't exactly a place for casual student gatherings.
"I have some questions to ask Mr. Hulwan, so can I? Think of this as helping me again?" She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with a fragile hope that made it nearly impossible to say no.
"Okay…?" I finally managed.
It felt strange. Usually, Miss Patan joined us for lunch, creating a somewhat balanced dynamic. But as we walked into the staff room and approached Mr. Hulwan's desk to set down our tiffins and water bottles, I noticed her desk was empty. Miss Patan was nowhere to be found.
A moment later, Mr. Hulwan entered, carrying several cups of juice. The second his eyes landed on Ananya's face, his coordination vanished. His lead foot caught on nothing, and he stumbled forward, the juice wobbling precariously.
I lunged forward, grabbing his arm to steady him.
"Thanks for saving me, Raj!" Mr. Hulwan gasped, his face pale.
"You're welcome," I said, helping him to his desk. He really was a clumsy teacher—perhaps the rumors Ananya mentioned this morning about his lack of grace were truer than I'd realized.
He set the juice down in front of us, his hands trembling slightly. I kept looking toward the door, expecting Miss Patan to walk in at any second, but the room remained quiet. Maybe she's busy with something today, I mused.
"Are you okay, Mr. Hulwan?" Ananya asked, her voice tilting into a playful, almost teasing cadence.
"Yeah… Yeah, I'm alright," he stammered. He was sweating buckets. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a white cloth to wipe his brow.
I reached for my lunch box, but before I could flip the lid, Ananya's eyes went wide.
"That's—!" she started to shout.
I looked at her, then toward the juice.
"That's my juice? I mean, the juice is for us, right Mr. Hulwan?" Ananya redirected, her voice high and panicked.
"Y-Yeah!" Mr. Hulwan added, nodding fervently.
-----
I had come to the staff room specifically to eat lunch with my husband, but the sight before me left me paralyzed in the doorway. My husband was frantically wiping his face with a white cloth—a cloth I recognized instantly. In his morning haste, he must have grabbed a pair of my white panties thinking they were a handkerchief. My heart hammered against my ribs in pure shock.
-----
Suddenly, Ananya snatched something from Mr. Hulwan's hand—perhaps it was the juice, or perhaps something else—and I looked at them both. They were both radiating a frantic, panicked energy that didn't fit the setting of a simple lunch.
"Let's eat," I said, trying to break the bizarre tension.
We began to eat. Mr. Hulwan offered me some of his food, and Ananya insisted I try hers as well. As I moved between the two offerings, a realization struck me like a physical blow. The food was identical. Not just the type of dish, but the preparation, the spices, the texture.
I took a bite of Ananya's offering. The flavor was a perfect mirror of the teacher's.
"It's good," I remarked, testing the waters.
"Thank you!" Ananya chirped immediately.
She thanked me as if she were the one who had spent the morning over the stove for both meals. We finished our lunch in a heavy, unexplained silence.
Later that afternoon, the rhythm of the day returned to normal. I found myself back in the classroom for my cleaning duties. To my surprise, Ananya showed up to help me again, just like yesterday.
As we swept and straightened desks, the events of the lunch break played on a loop in my mind. The identical food, the way she thanked me for the taste, the sheer panic on Mr. Hulwan's face—the pieces were all there, but the picture they formed was confusing. There were already so many rumors about him, and now Ananya was right in the center of the mystery.
I have to go in depth to know what's really going on between them, I resolved.
Once the room was spotless, we walked together toward the college entrance. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the pavement as we boarded the same bus, heading toward our destination in a silence that felt heavy with secrets.