1. We're doomed~

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The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every rustle of pages sound like a secret being spilled. Her fingers lingered on the soft edges of the paper as she turned another page, eyes devouring the words like candy.

"He brushed the hair from her face, his thumb grazing her cheek like a whisper..."

She giggled, quiet, breathy, the kind of sound that slipped out before she could stop it. Her toes curled beneath the blanket.

"Uff, yeh toh too much hai," she whispered to herself, biting back another smile. Her heart fluttered like it had wings, a warm fuzziness blooming in her chest. She clutched the book tighter, hugging it closer as if that would pull her deeper into the story.

(Uff this is too much,)

Then, out of nowhere, her phone buzzed, just once, a soft vibration that lit up the screen.

1:03 AM.

She blinked.

"Shit."

She sat up straighter, her brain catching up all at once.

"Kal toh school hai... first day bhi..." she muttered, rubbing her eyes with one hand, the other still clutching the book like it might vanish if she let go.

(There’s school tomorrow… that too the first day…)

She stared at the page she was on. The rain falling, the couple in the story confessing. She sighed dramatically, flopping back against her pillows.

"Bas paanch minute... thoda aur padh leti hoon. Promise."

(Just five more minutes… I’ll read only a little bit more. Promise.)

The dim yellow glow of her bedside lamp pooled over the open book in her lap, casting long shadows across her blanket. She looked at the book like it was tempting her soul.

"Phir so jaungi. Pakka."

(Then I'll sleep for sure.)

Her thumb slid beneath the next page. Just as she was about to turn the page, heart in her throat, rain still falling on the fictional lovers, her phone buzzed again.

Shrivika Verma – Calling...

Her brows furrowed.

"Ab kya ho gaya itni raat ko?" she muttered, swiping to answer.

(What happened so late at night?)

"WE'RE DEAD! WE ARE ALL DEAD, I SWEAR TO GOD—" Shrivika's voice exploded through the speaker as she had to pull the phone away from her ear,

"Kya!? Arey tu chilla Kyu rahi hai?"

(What!? Why are you screaming?)

"LEE CHEONG-SAN KO ZOMBIE NE KAAT LIYA YAAR! Mai emotionally unstable hoon!"

(A ZOMBE BIT LEE CHEONG-SAN! I’m emotionally unstable!)

"Wait wait wait, Tune All of Us Are Dead dekhna shuru kiya bina mujhe bataye!? Aur spoiler bhi de diya Shrivi!?”

(Wait wait wait, you started watching All of Us Are Dead without telling me!? And you even gave me a spoiler Shrivi!?)

"Hehe sorry!” Shrivika giggled, “Main emotional thi! I needed blood and betrayal! Aur tu toh romance padh rahi hogi na abhi—"

(I was feeling emotional! I needed blood and betrayal! And you must be reading romance right now-)

She glanced guiltily at the book in her lap.

"Maybe..."

Shrivika gasped theatrically.

"Unhone confess kar liya kya?"

(Did they confess?)

"Haan... rainy scene tha... cheek pe thumb bhi..." she replied dreamily.

(Yup, it was a rainy scene… with the thumb on the cheek…)

A beat of silence.

"Emotional damage alag level ka chal raha hai hum dono ka."

(We’re both going through a different level of emotional damage.)

"I know, right."

They both sat on the line, the mix of heartbreak—zombie and romantic—hanging between them.

"Tu soyi nahi ab tak?" Samaira asked, surprised looking at the time.

(You didn’t sleep yet?)

"Tu bhi toh nahi." Shrivika replied.

(You didn’t sleep as well.)

"Touche."

Shrivika sighed dramatically. "Kal school bhi hai, na?"

(There’s school tomorrow too.)

Her eyes darted to the clock again.

1:19 AM.

"Bas paanch minute... thoda aur padh leti hoon."

(Five minutes more… I’ll read a little more.)

"Bas ek aur episode dekh leti hoon."

(I’ll watch just one more episode.)

They both paused. Then, in perfect unison,

"Hum barbaad hain."

(We’re doomed.)

And they burst into laughter.

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"Shrivika!"

The door banged open like a storm.

"Uth ja! School hai aaj! Pehla din hai, aur tu aise so rahi hai jaise vacation chalu ho gaye ho na ki khatam!”

(Wake up! It’s school today! First day, and you’re sleeping like the vacation just started instead of ending!)

Shrivika groaned into her pillow.

"Uth ja beta, warna main paani daal dungi!" her mom shouted, already snatching the blanket off her.

(Get up, or I’ll pour water on you!)

"Arey mummy!" Shrivika sat up with wild, frizzy hair and the deadest expression known to mankind.

"Main zombie ban chuki hoon, mujhe aur kuch nahi chahiye."

(I’ve already turned into a zombie, I don’t need anything else.)

"Haan, zombie toh dikh rahi hai. Ab chal, brush kar, nahaa, kapde pehen. Mai naashta laga rahi hoon. Phone se chipki rehti hai raat bhar!"

(Yes, you do look like a zombie. Now go brush, bathe, get dressed. I'm setting up breakfast. You stay glued to your phone all night!)

"Mummy woh Cheong-san mar gaya tha—"

(Mummy Cheong-san died—)

"Mujhe nahi pata kaun-san mar gaya, tujhe marna hai toh late ho ja, main nahi bol rahi phir!" her mom snapped, already out the door.

(I don’t know which ‘san’ died, if you want to die then be late, I won’t say anything after that!)

Shrivika face-planted into her pillow again, whispering dramatically:

"Cheong-san died... main bhi mar gayi."

(Cheong-san died… I died too.)

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Ten minutes later, she was dragging herself to the bathroom, brushing with one hand and checking her phone with the other. Half of her shirt was buttoned wrong, and her hair looked like it had fought a pillow and lost.

Just then — buzz buzz —

Samaira : "I'm outside your house. Ready?"

Shrivika blinked at the screen, still brushing her teeth.

"OH SHIT."

She ran around the room like a hurricane, pulling on socks, stuffing notebooks into her bag, nearly tripping over her own cycle key.

She ran out the door with toast in her mouth, the schoolbag half open.

"Mummy main jaa rahi hoon, love you bye!"

(Mummy I’m going, love you bye!)

"Helmet pehen le!" her mom yelled from the kitchen.

(Wear your helmet!)

"Already on! Kinda!" Shrivika shouted back, jumping on her cycle.

Samaira was waiting at the gate, already standing next to her own cycle, grinning.

"Late again?" she smirked.

"Don't even start. Zombies attacked, mom yelled, toast burnt. And I forgot to tie my shoelaces."

Samaira laughed and started pedaling.

"Come on, zombie queen. Let's go slay our first day."

"Ugh, I hate school uniforms. But okay, fine. Let's ride, partner."

And off they went, two girls cycling side-by-side into a new school year, one still mourning a fictional character, the other already planning what book to sneak into her bag next.

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The school building stood tall in the hazy morning light, familiar yet distant. Shrivika and Samaira wheeled their cycles into the parking lot, breath misting slightly in the early air.

Shrivika stretched, yawning.

"I already want to go home."

Samaira rolled her eyes, checking her watch. "You've been awake for 35 minutes, and half of that was spent arguing with your mom about k-dramas."

"K-dramas are better than Anupama, and I stand by that." Shrivika adjusted her skirt and tried to flatten her hair down. "You look too ready. It's suspicious."

"I have responsibilities, Shrivika. I'm the vice head girl now. I can't show up looking like I rolled out of a K-drama binge." Samaira smirked, tugging her sash from her bag and slipping it on like second nature. "And unlike you, I do brush my hair."

Shrivika narrowed her eyes. "That was a personal attack."

They passed through the school gate, met with the usual morning chaos, juniors running around, prefects shouting to make lines, and that one teacher already drinking chai with a biscuit in hand.

As they entered the building, a few juniors waved at Samaira with obvious awe.

"Vice head girl! Good morning!"

Samaira smiled back. "Good morning! Form straight lines, no pushing Ansh, that bag goes on your back, not your neck."

Shrivika watched her go with a snort. "Look at her. Already famous. Already bossing people around."

Samaira turned, walking backwards now. "I have to be at the assembly stage in five minutes. You'll be okay without me?"

Shrivika placed a hand dramatically over her chest. "Don't abandon me in this cruel world."

"Go find Aisha or Nivya. I saw them near the main gate. Line up with them, I'll meet you after the announcements."

With that, Samaira hurried off toward the main stage area, already pulling out the folded speech from her blazer pocket.

Shrivika sighed, glancing around at the forming lines.

Just then—

"Shriviiii!"

Aisha came bouncing up, her braid swaying behind her. "You look like you haven't slept all year."

"That's because I didn't. Lee Cheong-san died, and now I have trust issues."

Aisha laughed. "It's always zombies or boys with you. Come, we're in 11-C. They told us to line up near the auditorium stairs."

Shrivika followed her, still blinking sleep from her eyes, occasionally craning her neck to spot Samaira up front, now already standing straight with the mic in hand—composed, polished, terrifyingly perfect.

"She's glowing." Shrivika whispered to Aisha.

"That's stress sweat." Aisha whispered back.

As the school anthem began playing and the lines stood straighter, Shrivika shoved her hands into her pockets and mumbled, "New year, same uniform, slightly more trauma. Let's go."

And with that, the first morning of 11th began.

The sun was already climbing high, and the assembly ground buzzed with rustling uniforms and murmured conversations. Students stood in their class lines, while the prefects moved around making sure collars were straight, socks matched, and bags were off shoulders.

Samaira stood near the front, clipboard in hand, sharp-eyed, sash perfectly pinned, hair neatly tied into a ponytail. Her forehead already held the faintest crease of responsibility.

Shrivika stood somewhere in the 11-C line with Aisha, trying to stay awake.

"Why are assemblies still a thing? Just email us the prayer." Shrivika muttered.

Aisha nudged her. "You should be grateful you're not the one taking names. Look at Samaira, already judging people from fifteen feet away."

Just then, the back gate creaked. A few heads turned.

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HOW WAS THE CHAPTER, LOVELIES?