HE IS MY SPRING

A Rich Spoilt Girl

Riddhima's POV-

"---And this is how you find the value of the Carnot Engine," he turned to face the class with a smile that seemed to light up the room. Except, I couldn't help but notice that smile never quite reached his eyes when he glanced my way. It's been like this ever since the sports day debacle—his frowns and disapproving stares aimed directly at me.

I slouched in my seat at the back of the classroom, chewing gum like it was my last lifeline, and internally rolled my eyes. Sure, I had moved from the front row where I eagerly participated in every discussion to this place of disinterest, but that didn't mean I deserved his constant scrutiny.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I felt the urge to stand up, give him a piece of my mind, and storm out dramatically. But of course, I stayed put, staring back with a mix of defiance and inexplicable fluttering in my chest. Yep, something's definitely wrong with me today.

"Maybe it's that sandwich from this morning," I thought wryly, trying to distract myself by blowing another bubble with my gum.

When he asked if there were any questions, I could feel the collective expectation in the room turn towards me. Normally, I'd be the first to eagerly raise my hand, but not today. Today, I was not in the mood to play the role of the eager student. I just rolled my eyes at the expectant looks directed my way. Nope, not today.

"Alright, since none of you seem particularly interested in today's class, I'll have to quiz you all on today's topic," Rishabh Sir announced, and I couldn't help but notice the slight disappointment in his voice. I watched as my classmates quickly flipped through their notes, scrambling to refresh their memories—especially the girls, who seemed particularly keen on impressing him.

He casually set aside the marker and leaned against his desk, hands folded, sleeves rolled up, and a couple of buttons on his shirt undone.

He looks like he came out from a smoky hot model magazine. Does India really have such hot looking men or was he exported from other country and then given a makeover? But then I was reminded of Siddharth Malhotra. Ok, such men do exist. But he could make hell lot of money modeling for Calvin Klein than he makes teaching teenagers and rich spoilt girls, Physics.

I couldn't deny the effortless charm he exuded, even though I tried to maintain my cool exterior. "What's so special about him anyway?" I wondered silently, trying to suppress the tiny flutter in my heart that his presence seemed to provoke.

"Why don't we start with you, Miss Sabharwal?" The way my surname rolled off his tongue almost gave me goosebumps, every-freaking-time. I could only imagine what would happen to me once he started addressing me as Riddhima or Riddhi. As if I would ever let him! I mentally rolled my eyes before standing up.

"You clearly look like you were enjoying the class a little too much." He deadpanned. "Of--course I w-as" I fumbled with my words because of the gum. "Let's throw the chewing gum and try again." He raised a finger at me and rather than pissing me off, that attracted me more.

I quickly took out a small piece of paper and spit the gum out. I should be embarrassed but my gaze was fixed on the hot alpha in front of me despite the class of 47 other students looking at me, some laughing, some mocking me but I couldn't care less.

"Tell me the efficiency formulae for a Carnot engine." There was a nonchalant look in his eyes. I couldn't care less about wherever his thoughts were right now.

"Uhhmmm---well, Arnot engine? Was that what we were learning today?" I smiled nervously, glancing around at my classmates. My eyes stopped at Rush, who looked horrified.

"It's Carnot engine and yes!" He was still smiling, but I could tell he was now irritated.

"So, the formulae is---Uhhmm---mhmm---" I started making weird noises, pretending to struggle to recall the formulae, even though it was as clear in my head as my own name. I wanted to toy with him. How dare he call me a rich, spoiled girl?

"I take it you don't know the formulae. How about you tell me about the second law of Thermodynamics."

This was an easy one, but he wasn't going to get it out of me. Come on, lose your peace, shout at me, yell, and scream like every other teacher here. I challenged him with my eyes.

"Alright, sit down." He said before sighing, making me confused. Does this man never get angry? Never?

The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. His calm demeanor only made me more determined. But instead of the explosion I was hoping for, he just moved on to the next student, leaving me with an unexpected feeling of respect. Or maybe it was annoyance.

After a few more minutes of asking questions, he announced, "Class, everyone, open your homework books and put it on your table. I am going to come around, check your homework and solve your doubts if you have any. People who haven't done their homework, please stand up." He started walking around the classroom, reaching every bench and every student and assessing their work. Okay, let's play this too. I stood up along with two other students.

"Yeah, Mr. Sharma, what's your reason?" He asked without looking up from one of the student's notebook. Did I mention he looked hot in his reading glasses, the one on his eyes right now. Ok, he looked hot to me in any and everything but that's not the point.

After ordering the student to sit down upon hearing his hand fracture story and making him promise to complete his homework and submit tomorrow, he moved on to the next student.

"I had to go to a last minute trip to London with my father yesterday night, Sir. He is a CEO and had to urgently visit this----" "Did you attend school yesterday?" He again didn't look at the boy as he marked an assignment, leaning on a desk not too far away from me.

"Ye--yeah, I did." The boy answered. "Then how come, you went, your dad took care of the last minute urgency and you came back and attended school again all within a short span of 12-15 hours?" He looked at his watch as people started laughing and hooting. He was smart in addition to being hot and oh, he was savage too. A deadly combination.

"And, what about you, Miss Sabharwal?" "What about me? I didn't feel like doing it." I shrugged. Yeah, it was rude to talk to your teachers that way but I did this with most of them and they didn't seem to have a problem and if he had one my Chachu would be more than glad to look into it.

"Am I hearing it right? You 'didn't feel like doing it'? Was that what you said?" He dropped the notebook on the nearby desk, his voice increasing a few decibels.

"Meet me outside the Principal's cabin after this period." He went on marking other student's assignments and solved their doubts, answered their questions and even engaged in friendly conversations with them. Was it too late now to apologize, go sit in the first bench, become his good student and admirer once again and earn those smiles and conversations?

No! He had bruised my ego and I won't let it slide.

***************

I was looking down at my Louboutin boots, never really taking the time to assess what clothes and shoes I was wearing. Everything was decided by my stylists, but today, these looked really good—maybe because of the nervousness.

I fidgeted with my fingers, wondering what he would do, say, or ask. Will he tell me something harsh again? Huh, as if I'd care.

Sure, you won't. My conscience mocked.

I saw him coming up to where I was standing, outside the Principal's chamber. Yeah, obviously you had to make me wait, for 5

minutes straight. This man is giving me all the firsts I never wanted.

"So you're here. Quite obedient." He gave me a dangerous smile and I couldn't help but blush, although I was sure it was not that evident. "Good girl!" Okay, now the blush was evident.

"You call me, I come. I'm easy like that." I gave him a sophisticated smile, one I reserved for business dinners with my uncle and his clients or anyone apart from my close friends and family.

"Quoting Damon Salvatore here, aren't we?" He asked while unlocking the principal's door. His smile is worth dying for. Wait, why does he have the key to this door?

"How can you open this, Sir? I mean, why do you have the key?" I voiced my curiosity as we entered the chamber. Soon, a peon came and informed us that the Principal was out for some work and would return in the evening. Ha! Who will hear his complaints now?

I smirked at him while he dismissed the peon and turned towards me. I slowly walked towards the sofa in the cabin.

"Missing your godfather? No one to hear your complaints now?" I sat on the sofa royally, putting one leg on top of the other and flashing him my most charming smile.

"I didn't bring you here to complain about you or hear you getting scolded. Although I'm pretty sure he would rather resign than scold you. I brought you here to talk since my own cabin is getting renovated."

My confident demeanor slipped when he sat on a chair opposite me, intertwining his hands and placing them on his knees, looking at

me. I didn't dare to look into his eyes; instead, I focused on his veins. Those will kill me someday.

"So, tell me, Miss Sabharwal, what's been happening with you lately?" His tone was serious.

"I---I don't kn--know what you're talking about, Sir!"

"You were all confident just now back in the classroom. Why do you look so cornered and vulnerable here?"

This man!! He was playing with me.

"I still am co--confident, Sir! I am." I spoke a little too loud, as if ordering myself to be confident, but my body just wouldn't listen.

"Well," he pulled the chair closer to where I was sitting, "then tell me, why have you been so ignorant lately?" His palms rested on his knees.

"You're sweating." His eyes drifted to my neck.

"It's hot." I stood up from the sofa and fetched the AC remote on the table. I started decreasing the AC temperature before I realized---

"The AC is on 16, Miss Sabharwal. Come back here, sit down, and don't get up before I ask you to." His voice was rugged.

I resumed my previous position and unknowingly got closer to him than before. "We can end this meeting now. I don't think we have anything to discuss apart from my inattention to Physics. I am just not interested, as I told you on the very first day, and you're wasting your time with me here, locked in a chamber."

"Stop giving me that reprimanding look. No one has ever behaved with me that way," I said, clearly enraged. He chuckled and looked down before looking up at me again.

"Okay, I never force anyone to do anything, least of all my students. You have two options, Madam: either stand up and leave and never expect anything from me again, or stand up, lock the door, come back here, and tell me what's bothering you." He gave me a determined, challenging look.

This was what I wanted. The choices were as easy as getting murdered and staying alive. I would obviously choose to stay alive, right? Unless I was on cocaine, which I definitely wasn't, considering how my feet moved on their own accord back to him after locking the door of the cabin.

"Good girl!" He ruffled my hair. Why was he treating me like a kid? Alright, alright, I was clearly younger than him, 17, but he would hardly pass for 25.

"What's your age, Sir?" I muttered absentmindedly and clasped my mouth shut in horror. Why would I ask something like that? He himself wouldn't have understood the change of topic, given how his hand dropped from my head and his eyes widened.

"I--I'm 23, why?" Of course, there was a why; there had to be a why.

"You---you look younger than most of the professors here. I just wondered if they hired such young teachers to teach Physics to 11th and 12th." I passed him a nervous smile. Please! God, don't let him take this as me flirting. I flirt better than this, and I wouldn't want to get caught dead flirting with my teacher, who's what----six years older than me? Woah, not a big number though.

His laugh, his laugh had to be the most melodious sound I ever heard. How could a normal human being make a laugh look so enthralling?

"Enough about me, now. Tell me, what's your goal in life?"

"I want to become a research scientist." I stared dreamily into space, quickly getting excited.

"That's interesting and----different. Why this particular profession, if I may ask?" With that look, he could ask me for tickets to my favorite concert and I would give them to him for free without a second thought.

"Because my parents were research scientists." I smiled, genuinely. "Were?" His eyes held no hint of mockery.

"Yup! Passed away in a car accident on a highway." I said as if it still didn't hurt me like crazy.

"Ouch, when?" He showed nothing close to pity. Empathy? Yes. Pity? No. For which I was grateful.

"Five months ago. A month before this academic year started." I sighed. Talking about them was never going to be easy.

"They were on their way back from the airport after having enjoyed a vacation in Hawaii. Their car collided with a truck on the

highway, and well---" I trailed off, not knowing how to put up the tragedy in front of him in a way that would pain me less.

"They promised they would get back and complete my admission formalities, and I was excited about this high school year until I wasn't." I looked into his eyes and they gave me an odd comfort.

"Is this somehow related to your disinterest towards my subject?" He said in a husky voice.

"First day of high school. Our previous physics teacher, Praveen Sir, asked a question about the subject, something supposedly easy, but I was still in my depressed phase and he was a no-nonsense guy. He called me out for my inattention and, as you call it, disinterest and, well, said things he shouldn't have said. That's how my absolute hatred for this subject initiated." I finished with a deep sigh.

He looked at me, dumbfounded. He stretched himself, poured water into a glass, and forwarded it to me.

"Miss Sabharwal, if you don't address what's bothering you, it will affect not just your grades but your entire future. I'm not here to judge or reprimand you, but to understand and help. You need to let someone in." His tone softened, and for the first time, I saw genuine concern.

I took the glass, sipping the water slowly, feeling a strange sense of relief. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the enemy I thought he was.

"Ok, so it's the teacher you hated and not the subject actually." He said and hummed in realization.

"I--I guess that's a good way to put it." I answered.

"So, it's sorted then. Since that teacher is gone, you can let loose and enjoy the subject. Trust me, it's good." He showed his pearly white teeth.

"A Math teacher says the same about their subject. That's the reason my fifth subject is Psychology and not Mathematics," I retorted. His smile fell. Wasn't expecting that now, were you?

"Moreover, you're just wasting your time with a 'rich spoilt girl' like me." I let a vulnerable look pass my features before eventually covering it up with sass.

"See, I really didn't mean that. I see you're hurt--"

"Not in the least!" I sounded defensive even to my own ears. "Nothing can hurt me, much less people who I don't even know." I huffed. The guts of this man!

"Of course, nothing can hurt you. You're invincible," he said, leaning back in his chair with a serious expression. "But sometimes, even the strongest people need help. I'm not here to fight you, Miss Sabharwal. I'm here to help you."

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. "Help me? By calling me a rich, spoiled girl? Great start, Sir."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I apologize. That was out of line. I was frustrated, but it's no excuse. I see you're hurting, and I want to understand why."

"Why?" I asked, my voice softer now. "Why do you care?"

"Because you're my student, and I care about all my students. I want you to succeed, not just in my subject, but in life." He leaned forward, his eyes sincere. "You have potential. Don't let one bad experience ruin a whole subject for you."

I looked away, feeling a lump in my throat. "It's not that simple."

"I know it's not," he said gently. "But I'm willing to help you if you're willing to let me."

"Fine," I said after a moment, crossing my arms. "I'll try. But don't expect miracles."

"All I expect is effort," he replied, standing up. "And I promise to give you the support you need."

"Okay," I said, standing up as well. "But no promises about suddenly loving Physics."

"Deal," he said, holding out his hand.

I shook it, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie. Maybe this teacher wasn't so bad after all.