When we reached the ground floor, I noticed the Principal ma'am and Vice Principal ma'am stepping out of their office. They noticed me too. Principal ma'am made a small hand gesture, signaling me to come over.
I hesitated for half a second, then walked toward them with a polite smile.
"Are you going home today?" she asked.
"Mostly yes, ma'am," I nodded. "I forgot to talk about it with my parents during the phone call, but they'll surely come."
Vice Principal ma'am chuckled lightly. "Forget about Student Voice this weekend and have fun. I'm eagerly waiting for the first print edition next week."
I smiled wide. "Sure, ma'am. I'm also waiting for some good quality family time."
Principal ma'am added, "If your parents come to pick you up, bring them to my cabin. I want to meet them."
For a moment, my brain paused. "Ma'am, I didn't get into any issues now," I said quickly. "I know the first week's meetings weren't exactly pleasant, but I think everything's sorted out now."
Vice Principal Ma'am gave me a playful look. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"
Principal Ma'am raised her eyebrows. "I want to appreciate you to your parents, Nila. Or do you not want that?"
I blinked. "No way, ma'am! I'll definitely bring them if they come. Who would say no to a free compliment banquet?"
That made them both laugh.
"Then it's settled. I'll be in my office around 4 to 6. Bring them there if they come."
"Sure, ma'am. Thank you. See you in the evening!"
I turned and walked back to join the girls who were waiting in the lunch line, chatting among themselves. But as soon as I joined them, I noticed all their eyes darting toward me. Curious. Wide-eyed.
I gave a helpless shrug. "What? Why is everyone looking like I just returned from the crime branch?"
Jai Harini narrowed her eyes. "What did you do this time?"
"I'm innocent!" I raised my hands in mock surrender.
Pavani leaned in. "You were called by the Principal?"
"Just a normal chat," I said coolly.
Prerna's eyes widened. "You chat casually with the Principal?"
"What's wrong in that?" I asked, trying not to sound smug.
Sree Lekha gave me a look. "I still remember the second day of evening study… God, you were crying like someone accused you of murder."
I sighed. "I was accused wrongly! What kind of reaction do you expect from someone who got thrown under the bus in front of the whole class?"
That made everyone laugh. Even Pavani giggled.
I was relieved. That moment of shared laughter—that easy banter—was something I had missed over the last few days when the tension between us made everything feel awkward.
As we settled down with our lunch trays, the conversation shifted from my Principal encounter to the usual chit-chat. But I could sense they were still a bit curious.
"Okay, but what did she say?" Jai Harini asked while mixing her sambar with rice.
"She just said if my parents come, I should bring them to her office. She wants to meet them."
"And…?" Sree Lekha nudged.
"And appreciate me in front of them," I said, unable to hide the grin.
"Wow," Prerna said, genuinely impressed. "That's actually a big deal."
"I know," I said. "I've never had a Principal voluntarily ask to meet my parents just to say something nice. This is new territory."
Pavani smiled. "You earned it, Nila. You did a lot in just two weeks."
I smiled softly, quietly touched by her words. For all our misunderstandings, moments like this reminded me that we were all just figuring things out.
As we finished lunch, the talk drifted toward who was going home and who was staying. A few girls from other bays were also planning to leave for the weekend. But the majority were staying back, either because their parents were far away or because they didn't feel like traveling just for two days.
"I'm telling you," I said, licking the last of the curd off my spoon, "if you ever get the chance to go home, take it. This place is great and all, but nothing beats home food, your own bed, and your family."
"Also, you don't have to wash your own plates," Jai Harini added.
"And no dress code," Pavani smirked.
"And no 'you can't go to the restroom now' from staff," Prerna added dramatically.
We all burst out laughing again. It felt easy—natural. Like we were finally getting back to the rhythm we had before the misunderstandings.
As the bell rang and we stood up to return our plates, a tiny thought crept into my heart:
I was going home today.
Classes resumed after lunch, but not a single soul in the room seemed mentally present. It wasn't just me—everyone kept glancing at the clock like their lives depended on it. Each tick felt like an hour. The energy had already shifted. We weren't thinking of equations or grammar; we were all waiting for the final bell to ring so we could scatter—some to hostels, some homeward.
After two dragging periods, we finally had something to look forward to: PT.
As soon as the teacher announced it, the class let out a collective sigh of relief and perked up. At last, something physical. Something that didn't require brain cells.
But instead of heading to the ground, I caught Nishanth's eye and both of us walked toward the PT sir, who was already calling our class to assemble. I stepped up. "Sir, is it okay if we skip PT for half the period? Just for twenty minutes. We want to finish one last round of Student Voice publicity."
PT sir narrowed his eyes for a second and then smiled. "So you want to replace running around in circles with running around pasting posters?"
"Pretty much, sir," Nishanth said, laughing.
He waved his hand. "Fine. That's my way of showing support. But come to the games room for at least the last ten minutes. You owe me that."
"Promise!" I said quickly before he changed his mind.
We grabbed a fresh set of black and white A4 posters—simple ones with the Student Voice logo, the website link, and the submission email ID—and split them between us. Our goal was to cover classes from 1st to 8th this time. We didn't plan on making any announcements, just quiet, swift visibility.
We moved fast. Got staff permission for each class, headed to the notice boards, pinned up the posters, and moved out. No one stopped us. A few curious kids stared at us like we were aliens, but none of the teachers seemed to mind. In fact, a few nodded in approval.
The two of us worked with silent coordination. We didn't need to talk. Nishanth handled one corridor, I took the other. And just like that, in less than twenty minutes, our job was done.
Back at the games room, Nishanth immediately made a beeline for the table tennis table. He tossed me a quick thumbs-up before disappearing into a friendly match with a senior. I smiled, then wandered over to the chess boards.
A few girls were already setting up, and I asked if I could join in. One of the girls moved aside for me with a grin. "Want to take the white?"
"Sure," I said and sat down, starting to arrange the pieces.
Chess had always been a weird comfort for me. Quiet, focused, strategic. Like writing—but on a battlefield. And right now, after two weeks of chaos, drama, friendships mending, and digital magazine launches, my mind needed that quiet kind of focus. The black and white of the board was a strange contrast to the vibrant buzz inside me.
As I played, I could hear the low echo of laughter and sneakers squeaking from the table tennis and carrom area. This was one of the rare places in school where hierarchy melted. It didn't matter if you were a rank holder, a monitor, or the class clown—here, if you played well, you earned respect.
Halfway through my second game, I noticed a few younger girls from lower classes whispering and pointing to the Student Voice posters we had just pinned up on the wall outside. One of them came near the doorway, peeped in, and waved at me shyly.
I raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"Akka," she whispered, "is it your magazine?"
I nodded, surprised but pleased.
"Can I write a poem?"
"Of course!" I said. "Put it in the article box in the library. Don't forget to write your name and class."
Her eyes sparkled. "Okay! I will!"
She ran off, giggling with her friends, and for a brief second I just sat there, letting the moment wash over me. It was happening. This was what I wanted—Student Voice reaching people, inspiring them, giving them space. And not just the seniors. Even the little ones wanted to be heard.