10-11-2025, 11:24 PM
## Update 96: The Secret in the Sports Room (Avi and Principal Sir)
The final bell of my exam was about to ring, but my mind was already far from Science-II. A cold, hard certainty had settled in my gut. Today, I would learn the truth, no matter the cost. I scrawled the last few answers on my paper, my handwriting a frantic scramble. With twenty minutes still on the clock, I stood up and approached the teacher’s desk.
The sir frowned, shaking his head before I even spoke. "It’s not time, Avi. Sit down," he commanded, pointing to my chair.
My heart hammered against my ribs. "But sir," I insisted, my voice low and urgent, leaning in close. "She leaves early every day. You always let her. Why is my paper any different?"
A flicker of annoyance, perhaps guilt, crossed his face. He let out a short, exasperated breath and snatched the answer sheet from my hand. The unspoken question hung in the air between us as I turned and practically ran from the room. My legs pushed hard against the floor.
My shoes slapped against the quiet hallway floor, the sound echoing my frantic heartbeat. I didn’t slow down until I was pressed against the cool, rough wall beside the sports room window. The wire-mesh glass was grimy, making it difficult to see. I cupped my hands around my eyes, blocking out the light, and peered into the dim interior.
The air froze in my lungs. My fingers, pressed against the glass, went numb. The Principal Sir was there, his back partly to me, tucking his shirt into his trousers. And that girl… she was standing half-turned, her silhouette pale in the shadows. She was naked from the waist up, her hands moving quickly to fasten the clasp of her bra. A cold wave washed over me, from my scalp down to the soles of my feet. My blood felt like ice. This was the secret, the ugly, breathing truth I had been chasing. I watched, paralyzed, unable to move my feet.
I watched, paralyzed, as they finished dressing.
"Get dressed quickly," Principal Sir's voice was a muffled, impatient command through the glass. "The paper is about to end."
The girl’s voice was a pleading whisper. "Yes, sir. Sir, please let me write the paper for a little longer today," she begged.
"No," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. He adjusted his tie, his movements sharp and final. "I can only give you one hour."
"Please, sir," she pleaded, pulling her college tunic over her head now, her hair tousled.
"I told you, right," he hissed, a sharp edge of fear or irritation in his voice, his eyes darting toward the door. "that the officers come to take the papers two hours after the paper is over. If they find out about all this, I can go to jail. That’s why I give you the paper half an hour after the paper is over and take it half an hour before the officers come."
A hollow pit opened in my stomach. My head felt light. The extra time, the early submissions—it was all a carefully orchestrated lie built on a shocking truth.
"Okay," she relented, her voice small, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I’ll get enough marks to pass in an hour."
"You have to look at that yourself," he said, smoothing down his hair, his composure returning. "And yes, you stay after writing the paper today."
"Why?" There was a tremor in her question, her face tight with worry.
He turned to look at her fully, and a slow, ugly smile spread across his face. "Today is the last day. I want to take you hard," he demanded, his voice low and possessive.
A shiver, violent and uncontrollable, racked my body. I had to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I wanted to run, but my feet were glued to the ground.
The girl hesitated for only a second before her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay, you can take me…" her voice dropped to a whisper, filled with resignation, "…you will also remember."
"Come on now," he said, checking his watch impatiently. "Come at 3:30 p.m. sharp."
"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice empty.
They moved toward the door, and I jerked back from the window, pressing myself flat against the wall, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. I heard their footsteps recede. A moment later, the college bell screamed through the building, announcing the end of the exam, the end of the year, the end of everything I thought I knew.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, until I saw Komal and Riya emerge from the classroom. Riya's face lit up when she saw me. "Avi! My math paper went so well because of you, thank you!" she gushed, grabbing my arm, her voice too bright for the darkness swirling inside me.
Komal gave me a small, grateful smile. "Yes, thank you," she added softly.
We walked home in a daze, their chatter a distant buzz in my ears. We reached Komal’s house, and she disappeared inside. Now it was just Riya and me, walking in a silence that felt heavy.
"What are you going to do next?" Riya asked, her voice soft, pulling me momentarily from the vortex of my thoughts.
My own voice sounded foreign to me, flat and empty. "I don’t know," I mumbled, looking straight ahead.
We had only exchanged those few words when we reached her gate. She turned to go, but then paused, looking back at me over her shoulder. She smiled, a shy, hopeful curve of her lips that I couldn’t begin to process. I offered a weak, non-committal nod in return. My mind was a thousand miles away, trapped in that dusty sports room, replaying that sickening conversation on a loop.
I walked the rest of the way home alone, the image of the principal’s smile and the girl’s resigned face burned onto the back of my eyelids. Meena Chachi was waiting when I arrived. "How was your paper, beta?" she asked, her face full of expectation and warmth.
"The paper went well," I heard myself say, the lie coming automatically, my gaze distant. I ate the food she placed in front of me without tasting it, each mouthful like ash. As soon as I was done, I pushed my plate away. "Meena Chachi, I’m going out. I’ll be back in the evening," I announced, standing up quickly.
She looked at me, a question in her eyes, but she simply nodded and gave me permission. I walked out the door, the image of the sports room door closing at 3:30 p.m. sharp already searing itself into my plans for the afternoon.
---
The final bell of my exam was about to ring, but my mind was already far from Science-II. A cold, hard certainty had settled in my gut. Today, I would learn the truth, no matter the cost. I scrawled the last few answers on my paper, my handwriting a frantic scramble. With twenty minutes still on the clock, I stood up and approached the teacher’s desk.
The sir frowned, shaking his head before I even spoke. "It’s not time, Avi. Sit down," he commanded, pointing to my chair.
My heart hammered against my ribs. "But sir," I insisted, my voice low and urgent, leaning in close. "She leaves early every day. You always let her. Why is my paper any different?"
A flicker of annoyance, perhaps guilt, crossed his face. He let out a short, exasperated breath and snatched the answer sheet from my hand. The unspoken question hung in the air between us as I turned and practically ran from the room. My legs pushed hard against the floor.
My shoes slapped against the quiet hallway floor, the sound echoing my frantic heartbeat. I didn’t slow down until I was pressed against the cool, rough wall beside the sports room window. The wire-mesh glass was grimy, making it difficult to see. I cupped my hands around my eyes, blocking out the light, and peered into the dim interior.
The air froze in my lungs. My fingers, pressed against the glass, went numb. The Principal Sir was there, his back partly to me, tucking his shirt into his trousers. And that girl… she was standing half-turned, her silhouette pale in the shadows. She was naked from the waist up, her hands moving quickly to fasten the clasp of her bra. A cold wave washed over me, from my scalp down to the soles of my feet. My blood felt like ice. This was the secret, the ugly, breathing truth I had been chasing. I watched, paralyzed, unable to move my feet.
I watched, paralyzed, as they finished dressing.
"Get dressed quickly," Principal Sir's voice was a muffled, impatient command through the glass. "The paper is about to end."
The girl’s voice was a pleading whisper. "Yes, sir. Sir, please let me write the paper for a little longer today," she begged.
"No," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. He adjusted his tie, his movements sharp and final. "I can only give you one hour."
"Please, sir," she pleaded, pulling her college tunic over her head now, her hair tousled.
"I told you, right," he hissed, a sharp edge of fear or irritation in his voice, his eyes darting toward the door. "that the officers come to take the papers two hours after the paper is over. If they find out about all this, I can go to jail. That’s why I give you the paper half an hour after the paper is over and take it half an hour before the officers come."
A hollow pit opened in my stomach. My head felt light. The extra time, the early submissions—it was all a carefully orchestrated lie built on a shocking truth.
"Okay," she relented, her voice small, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I’ll get enough marks to pass in an hour."
"You have to look at that yourself," he said, smoothing down his hair, his composure returning. "And yes, you stay after writing the paper today."
"Why?" There was a tremor in her question, her face tight with worry.
He turned to look at her fully, and a slow, ugly smile spread across his face. "Today is the last day. I want to take you hard," he demanded, his voice low and possessive.
A shiver, violent and uncontrollable, racked my body. I had to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I wanted to run, but my feet were glued to the ground.
The girl hesitated for only a second before her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay, you can take me…" her voice dropped to a whisper, filled with resignation, "…you will also remember."
"Come on now," he said, checking his watch impatiently. "Come at 3:30 p.m. sharp."
"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice empty.
They moved toward the door, and I jerked back from the window, pressing myself flat against the wall, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. I heard their footsteps recede. A moment later, the college bell screamed through the building, announcing the end of the exam, the end of the year, the end of everything I thought I knew.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, until I saw Komal and Riya emerge from the classroom. Riya's face lit up when she saw me. "Avi! My math paper went so well because of you, thank you!" she gushed, grabbing my arm, her voice too bright for the darkness swirling inside me.
Komal gave me a small, grateful smile. "Yes, thank you," she added softly.
We walked home in a daze, their chatter a distant buzz in my ears. We reached Komal’s house, and she disappeared inside. Now it was just Riya and me, walking in a silence that felt heavy.
"What are you going to do next?" Riya asked, her voice soft, pulling me momentarily from the vortex of my thoughts.
My own voice sounded foreign to me, flat and empty. "I don’t know," I mumbled, looking straight ahead.
We had only exchanged those few words when we reached her gate. She turned to go, but then paused, looking back at me over her shoulder. She smiled, a shy, hopeful curve of her lips that I couldn’t begin to process. I offered a weak, non-committal nod in return. My mind was a thousand miles away, trapped in that dusty sports room, replaying that sickening conversation on a loop.
I walked the rest of the way home alone, the image of the principal’s smile and the girl’s resigned face burned onto the back of my eyelids. Meena Chachi was waiting when I arrived. "How was your paper, beta?" she asked, her face full of expectation and warmth.
"The paper went well," I heard myself say, the lie coming automatically, my gaze distant. I ate the food she placed in front of me without tasting it, each mouthful like ash. As soon as I was done, I pushed my plate away. "Meena Chachi, I’m going out. I’ll be back in the evening," I announced, standing up quickly.
She looked at me, a question in her eyes, but she simply nodded and gave me permission. I walked out the door, the image of the sports room door closing at 3:30 p.m. sharp already searing itself into my plans for the afternoon.
---
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