Aalam was elbow-deep in a packet of masala peanuts when Ankit appeared at her desk like a disapproving shadow. She didn't look up, too busy shaking the last spicy crumbs into her palm. "You know Professor Malik left because of you," Ankit hissed, leaning so close she could smell the mint gum snapping between his teeth.
Aalam crushed a bhaji between her fingers, letting the crumbs rain onto her notebook like golden confetti. The paper absorbed the grease instantly, leaving translucent stains next to her half-hearted notes from last week’s lecture.
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