Array
(
[text] =>
TARGET
Votes- 250
Comments-80
If you all completed the target today only I will do the double update today only!
Follow me on instagram also: @shew_rites21
******
POV AUTHOR
One Week Later
Excitement crackled in the air like electricity as St. Xavier’s High School transformed into a battleground of school spirit. Banners flapped wildly, drums echoed through the corridors, and students dashed around in their sports jerseys, yelling strategies and last-minute pep talks.
Sports Day was finally here.
The basketball court, freshly painted for the grand event, gleamed under the bright stadium lights. The bleachers were packed with students, teachers, and an enthusiastic mix of St. Xavier’s and Blossom High supporters.
But in the middle of all this chaos, Tarun was the picture of quiet intensity.
Unlike his teammates, who were hyping up the crowd, cracking jokes, or flexing their biceps for the Blossom High girls, Tarun stood cold and composed, his gaze fixed on the court. The noise around him barely registered.
“TARUNNNN!! WE LOVE YOUUUU!!” someone screamed from the stands.
He didn’t even flinch.
A slight nod, a glance toward his teammates, and that was it. No dramatic reactions. No playful smirks. Just focus.
Rahul, stretching beside him, whistled. “Bro, even Blossom High girls are simping over you.”
Tarun, rolling his shoulders, didn’t even look up. “Talent speaks.”
Rajveer smirked. “Oh, sure, sure. I’m sure they’re here for your ‘talent’ and not because you run your hand through your hair every five minutes like a Bollywood hero.”
Tarun shot him a blank look. “Shut up and warm up.”
But despite the light banter, Tarun’s mind wasn’t fully in it.
His mind kept drifting to Tara.
She had been different lately. Distant. Cold. Silent.
No more morning texts.
No more teasing him in class.
No more late-night calls where they talked about everything and nothing.
And now, she sat in the stands, arms folded, expression neutral.
No cheering. No sarcastic remarks. No excitement.
And to make things worse—
Sitting beside her was some Blossom High guy, Harsh—smiling, leaning in, saying something that made Tara laugh.
Tarun’s jaw clenched.
Rajveer, ever the troublemaker, followed his gaze and smirked. “Kuch jyada hi khass dost nahi lag raha tara ka, they are pretty much close.” (Tara’s ‘friend’ seems a little too close, huh?)
Tarun didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.
******
Meanwhile, in the Stands…
Ishita was practically vibrating with excitement, waving a St. Xavier’s flag like her life depended on it. “Areeee, why is Tarun bhai acting like a villain in a revenge drama? Thoda toh crowd ko pyaar dikhade!” (Why is Tarun acting like a villain in a revenge drama? At least show some love to the crowd!)
Tiya giggled. “Unka pyaar ab doosre ladke ke saath hass raha hai.” (His love is currently laughing with another guy.)
Mahi turned toward Tara, dramatically gasping. “EXCUSE ME, MADAM. What is this? Why are you laughing with some outsider? Have you forgotten your responsibilities as the basketball captain’s girlfriend?”
Tara, watching the game with a neutral expression, sighed. “Can you not start this drama right now?”
Mahi ignored her completely and narrowed her eyes at Harsh, who was obliviously cracking jokes, nudging Tara’s shoulder like they were in their own world.
Harsh had no idea he was playing a dangerous game.
Completely unaware of Tarun’s death glares, he continued making Tara laugh.
That Tarun saw it all.
And the moment the referee blew the whistle, the game was on.
Blossom’s captain, Vikram, won the jump ball, and immediately, their team pushed into attack mode.
The match was fast-paced, aggressive, and tense—exactly the kind of match people wanted to see.
But Tarun, fueled by his frustration, played with fire.
Every time he saw Tara smile at Harsh’s joke, his gameplay turned sharper, more aggressive.
Within minutes, he had already blocked two shots, stolen the ball twice, and made a perfect three-pointer.
The first quarter was neck-and-neck.
24 – 22.
Blossom High was leading.
Tarun wiped sweat off his forehead, glaring across the court. Not happening.
******
During the half time break Tarun sat on the bench, gripping his water bottle so tight that his knuckles turned white.
Manav, noticing his stormy expression, nudged him. “Bro, chill. You’re playing like you’re ready to fight someone.”
Tarun’s eyes flickered toward Harsh. “I am.”
Rajveer sighed, shaking his head. “We need to win, not commit murder. Control your rage, Michael Jordan wannabe.”
And back in the stand Shivi gasped dramatically. “GUYS, LOOK AT HIS FACE. Tarun bhai isn’t playing a match. He’s declaring war.”
Mahi nodded. “I swear, he’s playing like Blossom High kidnapped his family.”
Tara, despite her efforts to stay neutral, felt a strange pang in her chest.
Was he mad? At her?
She shook the thought away, refocusing on the match, but she wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Harsh, still clueless about the storm brewing beside him, nudged her. “Yaar, teri school ka captain toh bada serious hai. Koi chill pill de isko.” (Your school’s captain is way too serious. Someone give him a chill pill.)
Tara forced a chuckle. “He’s always like this in games.”
Harsh laughed. “Tabhi tu itni dull lag rahi hai? Come on, show some spirit, Tara!” (That’s why you look so dull? Come on, show some spirit, Tara!)
Ishita seized the moment. “Haan, Tara! Tu toh pehle Tarun bhai ke har shot pe full cheerleader mode mein aa jati thi! Aaj kya ho gaya?” (Yeah, Tara! You used to go full cheerleader mode for every shot Tarun made! What happened today?)
Tara’s face fell, but she didn’t respond.
Because deep down, she didn’t have an answer.
******
The last quarter began and the match was at its peak. Both teams were neck and neck, 74-74, with only two minutes left.
Tarun’s eyes never left the scoreboard.
He could hear the crowd screaming, see his teammates drenched in sweat, and feel the pressure mounting—but the only thing keeping his adrenaline sky-high was the sight of Tara smiling at another guy.
Enough.
With lightning speed, he stole the ball from the opponent, dodged past two defenders, and sprinted toward the basket. One defender blocked his way, but Tarun wasn’t slowing down.
He leaped.
The opponent tried to block him, but Tarun twisted mid-air, the ball rolling off his fingers in a perfect arc.
SWOOSH.
The net rippled as the ball sank in perfectly.
76-74.
The crowd exploded.
But Tarun didn’t stop.
The next time Blossom High tried to attack, he intercepted before they even blinked.
The final ten seconds were on the clock.
The ball was in Tarun’s hands.
The entire stadium was on edge.
Tara held her breath.
He dodged one. Then another. And just as the final defender lunged toward him—
He jumped.
The ball soared through the air—
And landed straight into the basket.
BUZZER.
The game was over. 78-74.
St. Xavier’s HAD WON.
******
The moment the final buzzer rang, the stadium erupted into madness.
Students stormed the court, coaches shouted in triumph, and Tarun’s teammates pounced on him like a pack of wild hyenas. The air buzzed with excitement, victory chants, and the occasional “BLOSSOM HIGH, BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!!”
Rajveer tackled Tarun in sheer excitement. “BHAAAAI! WHAT A GAME!!” he screamed, shaking Tarun violently. “TUNE TOH UNKI BAND BAJAA DI!!” (You absolutely destroyed them!!)
Manav, half-breathless, collapsed onto Tarun’s shoulder, dramatically fanning himself. “Bhai… tujhe gussa aur jealousy dono ek sath dena chahiye… ye toh next-level motivation tha.” (Bro… your anger and jealousy should be bottled up and sold as motivation. That was another level!)
Rahul whistled. “Mujhe toh laga tu sirf basketball khel raha tha, par asli toh tera dushmani ka match chal raha tha.” (I thought you were playing basketball, but it looked more like a revenge match.)
Tarun barely registered any of it.
His heart was pounding, adrenaline still rushing through his veins.
But none of it mattered.
Because—without thinking—he turned toward the stands.
Toward her.
And before anyone could process what was happening—
TARUN RAN STRAIGHT TO TARA.
Before Tara could react—
Tarun hugged her.
Tightly.
In front of the entire school.
For a moment—silence.
And then—
THEIR FRIENDS LOST THEIR MINDS.
Ishita, who had been taking a sip of her soda, spat it out dramatically. “WHAT. JUST. HAPPENED?!” she shrieked, gripping Tiya’s arm so tightly that Tiya yelped in pain.
Tiya, still gaping like a fish, blinked. “This is better than any Bollywood climax I’ve ever seen.”
Mahi clutched her chest like she was experiencing a heart attack. “Yeh toh full filmy scene ban gaya!” (This has turned into a full-on Bollywood scene!)
Meanwhile, Harsh, sitting right next to Tara, looked completely lost. He blinked at the scene in front of him. “Uhh… does this happen often? Because I feel like I just witnessed something MAJOR.”
Tara, however, was frozen.
She hadn’t moved an inch since Tarun pulled away. The weight of his hug, the warmth of the moment, and the sheer force of emotions behind it still clung to her like an invisible force.
Her fingers lightly brushed against her arm, the same spot where Tarun’s arms had wrapped around her just moments ago.
And her heart… was beating way too fast.
But before she could process anything, Tarun was dragged away by his teammates for the medal ceremony.
Tara exhaled sharply, her stomach twisting for reasons she didn’t want to acknowledge.
*****
Tarun stood tall and unbothered on the victory podium, his face unreadable as the principal placed the Best Player Medal around his neck.
The trophy gleamed in his hands, his teammates beaming with joy beside him, but Tarun’s mind wasn’t here.
His mind was somewhere else.
Or rather—with someone else.
The stadium was still cheering, students chanting, and St. Xavier’s teachers giving proud nods of approval.
But Tarun?
The moment he stepped off the podium, he walked straight toward Tara again.
Tara, still processing everything, barely noticed him approaching—until suddenly—
He removed his medal from around his neck.
And before she could say a word—
He placed it around hers.
A stunned silence settled between them.
“You’re my lucky charm,” Tarun murmured, his voice softer than it had been all evening. “Aaj yeh sirf tumhare wajah se possible hua.” (This was only possible because of you today.)
Shivi squealed so loudly that people from the other side of the court turned to look. “OH MY GOD. HE DID NOT JUST—”
Tiya gasped, clutching her heart. “Mujhe oxygen cylinder chahiye!” (I need an oxygen cylinder!)
Rajveer, watching the entire scene, dramatically wiped an imaginary tear. “Itna romance toh mere life mein kabhi nahi aaya.” (I’ve never had this much romance in my life.)
Manav shook his head in disbelief. “Bhai, tune ek medal diya hai, usne shaadi ka proposal nahi accept kiya.” (Bro, you gave her a medal, not a wedding proposal.)
But Tara?
She didn’t react.
She looked at the medal around her neck.
Then, back at Tarun.
Her expression—completely unreadable.
Tarun’s smile faltered slightly. “Tara?”
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then—forcing a small, almost strained smile, she nodded. “Congratulations, Tarun.”
But her voice lacked the usual warmth.
Before he could say anything else, she turned away, blending into the crowd.
And for the first time that evening—Tarun felt uneasy.
Something was wrong.
*******
The celebration stretched late into the evening.
The basketball court was still alive with students, laughter, and the thumping bass of the school’s DJ setup. Bright floodlights lit up the court, illuminating every cheering face, every excited jump, and every victorious chant of St. Xavier’s students. The air smelled of sweat, energy drinks, and the faint scent of victory.
Even though other matches were still happening, the energy from Tarun’s game lingered like an unshakable storm. He could hear his name being shouted, could feel the weight of all the pats on his back.
But despite all of it—
Despite the deafening cheers—
Despite the laughter ringing around him—
Tarun couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling in his chest.
It sat there, heavy and unfamiliar, like something was about to go terribly wrong.
And then—it happened.
Tara found him.
Tarun was standing near the benches, leaning against the railing, sipping water. His jersey was damp with sweat, his breathing had finally evened out, but his mind?
Still restless.
And then—her voice cut through the noise.
“Tarun.”
His head snapped up immediately.
His grip on the water bottle loosened.
That one word—his name from her lips—was enough to erase every other sound around him.
Relief surged through his chest as he turned around, his lips already curving into a small smile.
“Yes, baby…”
But then—he stopped.
Because she was holding out his medal.
Tarun’s heart dropped.
His gaze flickered from the medal to her face. And something in his chest tightened.
“Tara… yeh kya—” (Tara… what is this—)
“I can’t take this.”
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
The kind of calm that felt like a blade slicing through him.
Tarun’s brows furrowed.
His hand twitched as he took a step forward, fingers reaching for hers.
“Kya matlab?” (What do you mean?)
Tara didn’t flinch.
She didn’t look nervous or hesitant. Just…distant.
Too distant.
Like she had already made up her mind.
She met his gaze, her expression unreadable. But when she spoke, her voice cut deeper than he expected.
“Stop it, Tarun! Stop suffocating me!!”
The words echoed.
Louder than the crowd.
Louder than the music.
Louder than the cheers of celebration still happening around them.
The sounds of the world faded.
And for the first time since the match started—Tarun felt winded.
Like someone had knocked the air out of his lungs.
His hand—which had instinctively reached for hers—hovered in the air for a moment before slowly curling into a fist.
Suffocating?
He let out a bitter chuckle, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Taking a step closer, his voice dropped, soft yet dangerously low.
“Tara… ye kaisa mazak hai?” (Tara… what kind of joke is this?)
But she didn’t answer.
She didn’t even look at him.
Her silence was worse than any insult she could’ve thrown at him.
Tarun felt his stomach twist, an unfamiliar fear creeping up his spine.
This wasn’t Tara.
This wasn’t them.
Something was definitely wrong.
*******
One more chapter to go and part 1 will end!
Hey, lovelies! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don’t forget to hit that vote button and leave your thoughts in the comments. Till then byy see you soon ❤️
Thank you for your love and support!
Love from,
Miss Sharma ❤️
[text_hash] => 1fe0918e
)