"Ritika, good morning!" she exclaimed, stretching her arms wide.

It was a bright day.

A new day. A new start.

Come on, babe.

But what to do? She tapped her chin, pretending to think.

Ummmm...

Yes! She remembered-the way her mother and Adrit's mother once talked, saying Adrit was good at physics, while she was hopeless at it.

Perfect excuse.

If she said she couldn't understand physics, she could go to his house often for tuition.

She ran downstairs, heart thudding.

"Ma, I think I need tuition for physics."

Her mother looked up from the kitchen. "Hmm, Sarala aunty was saying her son is good at science. He's also looking for students to teach."

"Then tell them! I'll go to his house. Exams are near-I can't take risks," Ritika added, letting fake worry edge her tone.

"At first, we have to ask your father," her mother replied. "If he permits, then you'll go."

"Okay, Ma, please say to Father."

Just then, her father entered through the gate. Ritika hurried to him.

"Father, I need a physics teacher. Ma said Adrit is good. Can I go to him for tuition?"

Her father thought for a moment, then nodded. "It's fine, Ritika. I'll talk to him."

She hugged him tight. "Okay, Father."

"Now go study the other subjects. I'll consult with him," he said firmly.

She went upstairs, closing her door with a sigh. Ufff, peace. Her lips curved. Butterflies already danced in her stomach.

At 2:00 p.m., her father called out, "Ritika, I talked to Adrit. He agreed to teach you physics."

Her eyes widened. "When will I start learning from him?" she asked, masking her excitement.

"From today evening. He said you can go to him as soon as possible."

Her heart raced, but her tone stayed steady. "Then I'll go today."

The moment her father left, Ritika exploded-jumping on her bed, laughing into her pillow. How exciting it will be! Time with my crush. Time with Adrit.

She was truly weak in physics. It wasn't that she didn't already have a teacher, but she never liked his style. This new arrangement-oh, it was perfect.

But instead of studies, her mind was already wandering. Thinking of him. Only him.

Evening came. 7:30 p.m.

She slipped into a red kurti, the fabric hugging her curves without apology. She believed in her own skin, her own authenticity. No layers of makeup-only a soft balm on her lips, just enough to make them glisten.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Confident. Bold. Dangerous in her innocence.

"Let's go, Ritika," she whispered to her reflection. Don't fear. Handle the game boldly.

And with that, she was ready-ready to walk into temptation.