The Highlighter
Relationships
May 9, 2026
By olivia.mukherjee1986
"Dutta. You're in the back again."
Ritoban looked down towards the floor, waiting to be ignored by his teacher.
"There are seats in the front."
"I'm ok ma’am"
He looked up now. Glanced at the front row. Back at her.
"Not happening," he thought.
She stared at him for a moment. "I am tired of this class"
She did not want to but anyway moved on. She always moved on. That was the thing about being in the back. Nobody stayed long enough to argue.
His friend Karan leaned over. "One day she's going to move you."
"She won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm not absent enough to be a problem and not present enough to be worth fixing."
Karan thought about this. "That's actually genius."
"I know."
Life was going pretty smooth his way until one day during a math's test, the ink of his pen got over. He being him, of course did not have a spare.
He tapped the desk in front of him. Ahaana Ghosh turned around.
"Pen?" he said.
She looked at him for a moment. Then opened her pencil case, a small blue thing with a cartoon Pikachu on the front, slightly faded, clearly old, clearly kept on purpose. She handed him a pen without smiling.
"Return it," she said.
"Emotionally or physically?"
She looked at him again. Narrowing her eyes,
"Physically will do."
"Reasonable."
He returned it the next day. She was already at her desk when he came in. He placed it next to her notebook without saying anything.
She looked at the pen. Then at him.
"Wow, you actually gave it back."
"Strong moral code, you see"
"Really?"
He smirked, "Activates selectively."
She almost smiled. Turned back to her notes. He noticed she put the pen back in the Pikachu case.
A week later. Physics. A long derivation on the board.
She turned around without warning.
"Did you understand that?"
He looked at the board. At his notebook, which had three words and numerous sketches of windows on it.
"I understand the intention behind it," he said.
"Right, that's very useful. Thanks"
"I can make it sound useful if you want."
"What? Try."
"The universe needed to prove a point and used seventeen steps to solve it when three would've been enough."
She stared at him. "Whatever"
She did not turn back, but he caught the smile she aimed at the textbook, the one she thought nobody saw.
He was starting to notice that she did that a lot. Laughed at things when she thought she was alone with them.
That day during lunch while she was eating in the cafeteria, he appeared nearby, casually pulled a chair, and sat down.
She looked at him. "Did I invite you?"
"No, I did." Suddenly, he turned serious, “Can I join, if .... if you don’t mind?”
She considered this. "OK"
She opened her tiffin. Rice, dal, something that smelled like home. He had nothing.
"You didn't bring food," she said.
“No, I don’t like carrying tiffin, but..., I brought appetite."
"That's not a contribution."
"It creates demand. Economically it is."
Without looking up from the table, she gently pushed the tiffin slightly toward him. Just slightly. Like she was adjusting to it, not offering it.
He took some rice. Didn't make a thing of it. Neither did she.
But she had to ask anyway, “why are you here?”
“Oh, I saw you eating alone, so....”
“I like eating alone, you can go....”
But he didn’t... he quietly sat there looking everywhere excepting at her. He did not know how to but that day onwards he started noticing her, everything about her.
She had three pens in her case but only used one specific one during exams. The others were backups she never touched. She tapped her notebook twice when she was about to disagree with something but stopped herself. She always stopped herself.
In a group discussion one afternoon, Pooja said something incorrect. He watched Ahaana open her mouth. Tap tap. Close it.
After class he quietly walked beside her on the way out from break.
"You knew she was wrong," he said.
She glanced at him. "What?"
"In the discussion. You were going to say something."
A pause. "It wasn't important."
"You tapped your notebook twice."
She stopped walking. Looked at him properly.
"You noticed that?"
He shrugged.
She started walking again. Didn't say anything for a moment.
Then: "She wasn't completely wrong."
"She was mostly wrong."
"Mostly isn't completely."
"So you let mostly wrong go unchallenged."
"Sometimes it's not worth it."
"Sometimes or usually?"
She looked at him sideways. Not annoyed. Something else.
" You know, you're observant for someone who never pays attention in class," she said.
"Who said? I'm always paying attention," he said. "Just not ...."
“Just not to what you are supposed to”, both of them laughed. “You got it”, he said with a wide excited smile.
During final exams, she was at her desk with four highlighters arranged by colour. He arrived with nothing.
Ahaana turned back to check on Ritoban,"Where are your stuff?” she questioned.
He happily pointed at a pen and pencil clipped to his shirt pocket.
“What the ... you're not going to pass," she said.
"Hmm, how do you know? Probably... not" He laughed.
"Not funny, are you prepared?"
"I am."
She looked at his empty desk. "Where?"
He pointed at his head.
She put down her highlighter. "That's not how it works."
"It might."
"It doesn't."
"You don't know that."
"I do actually know that."
That day, after the exam she waited for him at the cafeteria....
He leaned back. "What's the yellow one for?"
She looked at the highlighters. "Important definitions."
"And pink?"
"Formulas."
"Orange?"
"Dates and names."
"And blue?"
A pause.
"I haven't decided yet," she said.
He looked at the blue highlighter for a moment.
"Use it for things that you like," he said. "The stuff you're not sure about yet."
She looked at him. Then at the blue highlighter.
Didn't say anything.
When the results were out, she did well; he survived.
She looked at his marks, then at him.
"You could do so much better."
"I could do many things better."
"Then why don't you?"
He thought about it. Actually thought.
"Well, I don't always feel like I have to," he said.
She looked at him for a long moment.
"Well, that's either very honest or very sad," she said.
"Might be both." he smiled
She didn't have anything to say to that. But she kept thinking about it. He could tell.
One afternoon, raining. Suddenly, heavily. Everyone stranded inside.
They ended up near the corridor window without planning to. Someone down the hall was yelling about a wet bag. A drop ran down the iron grille and split at the bottom into two.
She said, without looking at him: "You're different when you're quiet."
"Hmm, that's because I'm not talking." He laughed
"Hey, you also think more than you show."
He said, gazing at the rain.
She turned. "Don’t we all?"
"The notebook tapping. The highlighter you hadn't decided about. The things you don't say in discussions." He paused. "You think a lot more than you show."
She looked at him for a long time.
"Not always," she said quietly.
"Can I write something in your hand .... if ...you don’t mind," she said.
"Interesting, sure," he responded.
She opened the top zip of her bag, took out the blue marker, and drew a window in his hand with it.
His eyes stayed wide open, more in shock than surprise.
“You.... you like me?” he asked now overjoyed.
“No dumbo, I kind of love you”
He was visibly upset, “I was about to ...”
She cut him off, “well, you are late”.
"That’s not fair, I was just processing."
"Nonsense, you were hiding."
The argument went on for the next one hour, so did the rain.