Reborn in 2013: From Schoolgirl to Pandemic Heiress

As soon as the meeting ended and we stepped out of the room, I felt a wave of emotion rush through me. Not anxiety this time—it was joy. A kind of joy you feel when something you once imagined actually becomes real.

Harini came running toward me the moment she saw me near the corridor. "For a second, I really thought you got into trouble again," she said, mock glaring. "What was this big secret meeting about?"

I smiled, unable to hold it in any longer. "It's called Student Voice," I said proudly. "The official school magazine and webpage me and Nishanth have been planning."

Harini's eyebrows shot up. "Ohhh, Nishanth," she teased, dragging his name. I gave her a quick nudge with my elbow.

"Shhh! Computer Sir and class teacher are still here," I whispered.

Just then, I turned and noticed Nishanth coming toward us, his bag slung over his shoulder, followed by Ishanth and a couple of his other friends. I saw him give me a quick thumbs-up before we both turned to Computer Sir.

"Sir," Nishanth said first, "thank you so much. Without your support and encouragement, we would never have had the confidence to take this forward."

I nodded, stepping forward. "Sir, we wanted to officially ask you something."

Computer Sir looked surprised. "Yes?"

"Would you be willing to be the teacher mentor for Student Voice?" I asked, trying not to fumble over my words.

For a moment, he was silent. Then a warm smile spread across his face. "I would be honoured," he said. "Let's work together and make Student Voice echo across our school—loud and clear."

That made my heart flutter. I turned to our class teacher, who was standing quietly, watching all of this unfold with a small smile of her own.

"Ma'am, thank you," I said. "If you hadn't praised my debating skills after that class, I wouldn't have even considered doing something like this."

Nishanth chimed in, "Yes, ma'am. That small moment gave us a spark. We started discussing this idea the very next day."

Our class teacher looked genuinely touched. "It's your hard work that brought this to life. But I'm happy if I could light the first match."

Harini, who had been listening to all this in stunned silence, finally said, "Wait, so you actually had a meaningful conversation with a teacher? I thought you just argued your way out of trouble every time."

I turned to her, pretending to be offended. "Hey! What do you think I am?"

Nishanth chuckled. "A trouble magnet, obviously."

That broke the serious mood, and all of us burst out laughing. Even Computer Sir smiled, shaking his head at our antics.

After both teachers had left for their quarters, we decided it was time to celebrate. What better way than visiting the school's beloved snack shop?

We marched in together, and to our delight, the usual crowd wasn't there. The shop was known for its infamous "red chips packet"—a fiery, crunchy chilli potato finger snack that almost every student loved. Usually, you had to wait in a long queue, sometimes waving your hands frantically just to catch the shopkeeper's eye.

But today, the crowd had dispersed—everyone was still buzzing about the movie, the freshers event, or just catching up before the study period. We seized the opportunity.

"I'm treating everyone," I declared. "It's our first victory."

Harini clapped. "I want chips and a lime soda."

"I'll have orange," Nishanth added.

I picked up five packets of the red chips, a few choco sticks, and sodas in everyone's favorite flavors—orange, lime, and even the elusive paneer soda that tasted like bubblegum and confusion but somehow still had fans.

We sat on the stone bench near the flower beds beside the snack shop, munching, chatting, and basking in the glow of our tiny revolution.

Between the crispy chips and fizzy soda, I couldn't help but feel it—this was my moment. Not because I stood out, but because I had started something meaningful. Something new. Something that didn't exist in my past life.

And that made all the difference.

After our small but sweet victory celebration, the sun had started to dip lower. It was almost 5 PM when we finally left the school block and began walking toward the hostel. The golden light bathed the path in a calm glow, as if the universe itself was giving us a soft round of applause.

We walked in two neat rows, separated by an imaginary line right down the middle of the road. Harini and I were on the right side; Nishanth and Ishanth walked on the left. It might seem silly to someone outside, but every student here knew the unwritten rule—girls and boys could walk on the same road, but never too close. If a warden spotted you "mingling" beyond their invisible boundaries, the interrogation that followed would make you feel like you were caught planning a prison break—or worse, falling in puppy love. No thank you. We had enough drama for one day.

As we walked, I turned slightly and called across the road. "Nishanth, what do you think about a sports column?"

He looked at me curiously. "Like IPL updates? Football match breakdowns?"

I shook my head. "No, no. Not national or international sports. I mean a dedicated section for our school sports—events, teams, athletes, achievements."

Nishanth's expression lit up. "Ohh! Like a mini school sports newspaper?"

"Exactly!" I grinned. "We'll talk to the PE teachers, gather info on house competitions, school team performances, and even write features about students who've won medals outside school."

"We could also have a scoreboard!" Nishanth added, eyes shining now. "To show which house is leading every month?"

"Yes!" I clapped. "We'll update the table with points from each competition. It'll be great for students who don't always catch up with gossip or announcements."

Harini, walking beside me, joined in. "That means I can finally brag about my house with actual stats," she said proudly.

From the other side, Ishanth called out, "Can I be part of this?"

We all turned to look at him. Nishanth raised an eyebrow. "You want to join the magazine team?"

"I'm fast at typing," Ishanth said quickly. "And I love sports. I already know all the football and basketball captains—most of them are seniors, and I talk to them regularly."

"Nice," I said thoughtfully. "But can you get in touch with the captains of less talked-about sports too? Like shot put, throwball, volleyball?"

Ishanth nodded. "Not a problem. I'll take it as my mission."

I looked at Nishanth for a moment. He smiled and extended his hand across the imaginary line. Ishanth shook it firmly.

"Welcome to Student Voice," Nishanth said.

"You're officially in charge of collecting sports updates for the boys' section," I added with a grin.

Harini squinted at me. "Wait… boys' section?"

"Yes," I replied. "We'll need a girls' section too. There are some amazing girl athletes here—why should we leave them out?"

Harini smiled proudly. "I think Anika would be a good fit. She plays volleyball, throwball, and she's in good terms with most girls' house teams."

"Great idea," I said. "But I'll talk to the sports teacher first before finalizing anyone."

It felt important to do that—not just for protocol, but out of respect. Until now, Student Voice was just our secret project. If we wanted it to grow roots and not get shut down by some random objection, we needed to involve the right people at the right time.

"Smart move," Harini said. "You already had a minor showdown with our warden once. If you get the sports teacher on your side, getting permission for interviews or collecting updates will be way easier."

"True," Nishanth said with a smirk. "Our very own trouble magnet is learning strategy now."

"Hey!" I playfully elbowed him from across the invisible border. "You'll miss this trouble magnet when I become too important to talk to you."

Everyone burst into laughter.

The sky above turned a deeper shade of orange, and I felt like something new had truly begun—not just a project, but a movement.