It was 8 p.m. and the whole campus was silent. The ticking of the grandfather clock was the only audible sound in the room as Father George sat in front of us, reading the daily hostel report. Behind us were Sister Sophia and the sports teacher. They asked Parth to go back to his dorm. He left quietly, shooting me an inscrutable look.

‘Shriya Mathur. Hometown: Shimla; father: renowned businessman; nominated for Miss Teen HP.’ Father George looked at her, his glasses sliding down his nose. Shriya looked down at her folded hands. Our clandestine moments rushed through my head but anger at Parth’s betrayal overtook my shame.

‘Madhav Mehra. Hometown: Delhi; father: banker; nominated for nothing.’ He didn’t even look at me. My heart was thumping loudly.

‘According to this report, you were both caught in a restricted area, engaging in uncouth activities,’ he said, his voice and eyes incredibly stern.

‘This was not expected from you, Miss Shriya. We will not permit you to participate in the contest if you are found guilty,’ said Father George. Shriya began to tremble and started sobbing.

‘Father, please,’ she begged.

‘Explain what happened.’

She looked at me. She was stuttering incoherently and I had no idea what she was going to say. All I felt was pure rage towards Parth.

‘Miss Shriya, I am asking you one last time. If you do not tell me the truth, I will take strict action against you both.’ Father George banged on the table. He was a peaceful man, but could be merciless in such situations. Shriya looked at me again and fought a lump in her throat. She was quivering.

‘Father . . . Madhav . . . Madhav took me to the yoga room. I didn’t even know about the place. He said it would be dark and that nobody would find us there. Then he asked me to . . . I’m too ashamed to say any more.’

A part of me died that moment, too horrified to feel anger or shock. I stood still for a couple of minutes as she broke down. All of it hit me in one go and it became almost too much to bear. What Parth did was one thing, but what Shriya did just ripped me apart. I was genuinely falling in love with her. I was intent on protecting her in this situation, but she took advantage of my love and lied to save herself. She looked at me, tears flowing from her eyes, every part of her being beseeching me to support her false accusation. I knew she was only doing this so she could still take part in the competition. She didn’t want to lose her only chance, but I couldn’t believe that she was ready to throw me to the dogs for a measly beauty pageant.

I stood staring blankly at the Bible on Father George’s table. Everyone’s eyes were on me. I realized I had nothing to lose, whereas Shriya had something to fight for. I felt a sense of nothingness taking over me and sighed, looking at Shriya one last time.