It all began on a normal Tuesday.
Jaanvi had just sat down, cracked open her binder (which now weighed more than her hopes), and was about to review her opening speech when—
"Today's assignment," Coach Carter began, "is an individual mock debate. Solo rounds."
The room went still.
"Against your partners."
A few people choked on their gum. Someone audibly gasped. Ron said, "Oh my god." Saachi whispered, "YESSSS."
Jaanvi blinked. "Wait, what?"
Coach Carter continued like he hadn't just dropped a nuclear bomb. "It's simple. Each team splits. You're now opponents. You'll prep on opposite sides of the same topic and face off. In front of the full class. It's for growth."
Growth.
Growth.
This man wanted to emotionally waterboard them for growth.
Aditya raised a hand. "So you're saying... I'll be debating her."
Coach looked him dead in the eye. "Yes."
Jaanvi raised a hand. "And I'll be debating him."
Coach nodded. "Correct."
Saachi raised her hand. "And we're allowed to film this, right?"
"Absolutely not."
"Too late," muttered Aryan, already pulling up his camera app.
Later That Day:
"Okay. This is fine," Jaanvi said, pacing the hallway.
"No big deal," Aditya added, following her like a confused puppy. "Just a full-blown public duel of our souls. On stage. In front of everyone we know."
"I mean, it's not like we have... history or anything."
"Right. It's not like we dated. Broke up. Fought in front of a vending machine. Almost kissed two weeks ago. Slept in the same—"
"STOP TALKING," she hissed.
He shrugged. "Just saying. We're basically... emotionally combustible."
Jaanvi groaned. "Why couldn't I be paired against someone normal? Like Kayla. Or a toaster."
"Debating a toaster would probably be harder," Aditya teased.
"Debating you is harder because you argue like a manipulative, dramatic lawyer with a god complex."
"And you argue like a caffeine-fueled poet who thinks sarcasm is a personality trait."
"IT IS!"
They glared at each other.
Students walked by. Whispering. Staring.
"Do you think everyone knows?" she muttered.
"That we're debating?"
"That we almost kissed last week and then pretended it never happened."
Aditya paused. "Well, they do now. Because you said that loudly."
Jaanvi clapped her hand over her mouth. "I hate you."
"You do not."
"Okay fine, I medium-dislike you."
"That's fair."
Later That Night — Debate Group Chat:
Siya: y'all ready for tomorrow?
Ron: stocked up on popcorn
Rey: pre-writing commentary like it's the NBA
Meera: just tell me if one of them cries so I can screenshot it
Aryan: my money's on Aditya. man's soft.
Aditya: i hope u get disqualified for breathing
Saachi: i'll bring tissues for jaanvi
Jaanvi: i'll use them to throw at your face
The Next Morning:
Coach Carter stood at the front of the auditorium.
He looked like he was enjoying this.
Like he'd waited his whole career for two dramatic, emotionally repressed, high-functioning debaters to explode in front of a live audience.
"Topic: Is emotional vulnerability a strength or a weakness?"
Jaanvi dropped her binder.
Aditya just stared.
Because of course that was the topic.
Of course.
This wasn't a debate anymore.
This was a therapy session disguised as warfare.
As they stepped onto the stage, something shifted.
The audience faded.
The noise dulled.
Jaanvi's heart pounded.
So did Aditya's.
But they stood across from each other like they had a thousand times before.
Familiar.
And terrified.
And still — they smiled.
Not for the crowd.
For each other.
Because even if this debate was going to rip their hearts open, at least the person standing across from them... understood every piece of it.
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