I got out of the car and headed toward the art room.
I wanted to finish my artwork early and attend all my lectures—I'd already missed so many because of the competition.
I glanced at my phone.
September 15, Friday.
Only two days until the deadline.
If I can't submit today, then it's impossible… since Saturday and Sunday are holidays, I thought.
I hurried into the art room—
and froze.
My bag slipped from my shoulder and fell to the floor.
The sight in front of me was miserable.
My artwork… the one I worked so hard on… was completely ruined.
Someone had thrown random colors all over it—colors completely opposite from my color scheme. It was clearly intentional. There was no way to salvage it.
A piece of paper was stuck to my artwork with chewing gum.
My heart trembled as I slowly peeled it off and read:
**"You fucking bitch!
Stop seducing my boyfriend. Stay away from him.
I saw you acting all cute and sweet in front of him yesterday, getting sympathy for being unable to talk or hear.
I know what kind of girl you are.
You're the type who gets joy from stealing someone else's boyfriend.
Ruining your artwork is just a warning. I can do more if you get closer to him.
Stay satisfied with that loser senior Rahul.
You get the message, don't you?
Deaf bitch."**
By the time I finished reading, my eyes were full of tears.
I didn't know what hurt more—the hateful words or my destroyed artwork.
I locked the art room and collapsed to the floor, hugging my ruined canvas.
A while later, the door burst open.
Senior Rahul and his class teacher came rushing in.
I wiped my tears and stood up.
Rahul sprinted toward me instantly.
"Are you alright? Are you alright?"
He signed repeatedly, panicking, out of breath.
I nodded.
He immediately ran out of the room again.
The teacher approached and showed me a typed message on her phone:
"Are you alright?"
She rubbed my back gently.
I nodded again.
She then looked at the destroyed artwork and texted:
"Can I look?"
I handed it to her. She was clearly shocked.
She typed again, quickly:
"Did someone trap you in here? Did you see anyone? Tell me!"
I shook my head.
She misunderstood the situation.
So I showed her the letter.
She read it—her eyes widened.
"Do you know who the guy mentioned in this message is?"
I shook my head again.
It was all a misunderstanding… caused by me.
She typed:
"We can't find the culprit. It's a printed message.
Do you have even a small idea who the guy might be?"
I texted back:
"I really don't know."
She thought for a moment, then typed again:
"Why didn't you come to me earlier? We only have two days left. If you had come immediately, we could have handled this better."
I frowned and typed:
"What do you mean?"
She showed me a long message:
**"College ended a while ago. Everyone else submitted their artwork to me—I'm the one in charge of collecting them.
I waited for you, but you never came.
Your class teacher said you didn't attend any lectures today.
So I thought you might still be here.
By the way, I told Rahul to come with me because he was wandering around the staffroom."**
Just then, Rahul barged in again, holding drinks.
The teacher quickly hid the letter inside her blazer pocket.
Rahul rushed toward me, handing me a water bottle.
"Drink," he signed.
****
I ran out of the art room and went to the cafeteria to buy some lemon juice, apple juice, and a water bottle for Shruti. After getting everything, I ran back towards the art room. I barged inside and went straight to Shruti. I handed her the water bottle first so she could drink some water. Then I gave her the lemon juice, and I threw the apple juice towards the teacher.
The teacher caught it perfectly, as if she already knew I was going to throw it.
I made Shruti sit on a chair and tried to calm her down. Because I had been running, I was a bit thirsty too, so I took a sip of water from the bottle. We both sat in chairs.
"What happened here, Teacher? Did you find something?" I asked directly, thinking she might have figured something out.
The teacher simply handed me a piece of paper covered with random colors. It looked like someone had intentionally messed it up.
It was Shruti's artwork; someone had ruined it before she came here.
"We don't have CCTV cameras here, so we can't find the culprits," the teacher said, sipping her juice.
"Culprits, huh… So what should we do?"
"It's simple. Help Shruti salvage her piece of art."
"It will take time, and tomorrow is a holiday."
"I'm honestly honored to be your teacher because you're not someone who says 'it's impossible.' Tomorrow, I will attend college with you. It won't cause trouble for anyone."
"But Teacher, if you help Shruti, others will think you're favoring her. If anyone finds out, it will cause disturbance among the students."
"Oh? Why do you think you're the one helping her salvage her artwork?"
"Then who?" I asked, confused.
The teacher unlocked her phone, typed something, and then showed it to me.
"Don't you want to help your favorite junior, Senior Rahul?"
I thought for a second… then agreed to help her.
"Fine, I will. But only on one condition."