Chapter 1 — The Day When It Started

It didn’t begin with anything special. No dramatic background music, no “this is the day my life
changed” vibe. Just a plain, normal morning. The kind where you expect nothing and just hope
the classes get over quickly.

The air was cool, sky was calm. But for some reason, I felt a bit uneasy… like my stomach knew
something my brain didn’t.

Then I heard him.

“Chiku!”

That’s my nickname. My best friend has been calling me that since forever.

I turned and saw him — messy hair, tie hanging half off his neck, walking like he had all the time
in the world. He caught up to me near the school gate, instantly starting some random talk about
yesterday’s cricket match. I nodded here and there, but my mind was somewhere else.

On the way in, I noticed the usual things — sunlight peeking through the old neem tree, some
juniors chasing each other with lunchboxes, and the faint smell of samosas coming from the
canteen even though it wasn’t even break time yet.

I’m not the type people remember. Not a topper, not the class clown, not the guy surrounded by
friends. Just… average. Slightly decent in studies, useless at starting conversations, and
especially hopeless when it came to talking to girls.

And then there’s her.

My crush.
Someone I’ve been noticing for a long time, from far away. Never once spoken to her. Not
because she’s scary or arrogant… but because I don’t want the teasing, the stares, the
whispers.

Classes started. Same as always. Teachers talking, chalk dust floating in the air, that one ceiling
fan making a weird squeaky sound. My best friend passed me a stupid doodle in maths class, I
passed one back, and we tried not to laugh out loud.

Then lunch break came. He went to refill his bottle and came back with a look like he’d just
discovered gold.
“She’s in the canteen. Alone.”

My heart started pounding. My brain said, “Go.” My legs… didn’t move.

I opened my tiffin instead, acting like I was too busy eating.

Break ended. I stayed right where I was.

Back in class, my friend lost it. “You’re impossible,” he said, like I’d just thrown away the biggest
opportunity of my life. I didn’t reply. I wasn’t upset, strangely. It felt like… something was still
going to happen.

And then, it did.

She walked past my bench.
No smile, no words — just a small folded paper dropped on my desk.

I almost threw it in my bag without opening it, but my friend snatched it from me. His eyes went
wide. Then he looked at me like I’d just scored the winning goal in a World Cup final.
“She wants to meet you after school.”

The rest of the day went in a blur. I was pretending to listen in class, but my head was
somewhere else — imagining the conversation, wondering what I’d say, picturing her smile.

When the final bell rang, I walked toward the back of the school. The ground was covered with
dry leaves, crunching under my shoes. The wind felt colder now. My heartbeat was so loud, I
could barely hear anything else.

I had no idea what was waiting for me there.

But I knew — this was just the beginning.

Chapter 2 — Someone I Didn’t Know

The school bell rang, echoing through the corridors.

For everyone else, it meant the day was over.
For me, it meant something was about to begin.

I’d been counting the seconds for this. That one folded paper in my pocket had been sitting
there like a spark waiting to set everything on fire.
I must have read the short line inside a hundred times in my head.
Meet me behind the school after classes.

My heart was racing as I stepped out of the classroom. The sun was still hanging in the sky, but
my mind was already far away, picturing her standing there, waiting.

I walked faster… then slower… then faster again. My feet didn’t know what speed they wanted.
My stomach felt like it was folding in on itself. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

And then… I saw them.

She was there — but she wasn’t alone.

Sitting beside her was someone I knew too well. Not personally, but the kind of person everyone
in school knows.
Tall, confident, the guy who’d already dated half the girls in our class. He had that stupid, easy
smile that made him look like he belonged in every picture.

My steps froze. For a second, I thought maybe I’d misread the note.

I stood still, just enough to hide behind the corner of the wall. My brain kept telling me to leave,
but I stayed. I needed to hear something — anything — that made sense.

Instead, I heard her voice.

“I wanted to call you… but by mistake, I gave that note to that nerd.”

It was like the air got knocked out of me. The words didn’t just hit — they stayed, echoing in my
head, bouncing around until they became all I could hear.

She hadn’t meant me.

It wasn’t for me at all.

And then she spoke again, laughing a little. “Now I’m scared… what if he actually comes? It
would be such a misunderstanding.”

That was it. I couldn’t stand there anymore. My eyes stung, and before I even realised it, tears
were already sliding down my cheeks. The world around me blurred.
It wasn’t the sunlight.
It was me.

Maybe I’m not worth it.

Maybe I’m not worth anyone’s love.

I turned and walked away. I don’t even remember how far I went, but I remember the heaviness
in my steps. It felt like each one was dragging something inside me down with it.

By the time I reached the school gate, my face was hot, my hands were shaking.
And then…

A voice from behind. “Hey… wait up!”

I stopped. My heart jumped — not out of excitement, but out of confusion.

It wasn’t her voice.
It was softer, calmer, like it belonged to someone who didn’t want to scare me away.

I turned around slowly.

---

Chapter 3 — The One Who Made My Life Colorful

A girl stood there, looking straight at me.

I knew her by face — we’d shared classrooms for years — but I couldn’t remember ever
speaking to her. She wasn’t the loud type, the one laughing in every group photo or leading
conversations. But there was something steady about her, like she didn’t need an audience to
know who she was.

Her hair was a little messy, as if she’d just run her fingers through it while thinking. A strap of her
bag hung loose off one shoulder, and in her other hand she carried a thin notebook, its corners
bent from the day.

“You’re in our class, right?” she asked, tilting her head.

I nodded. My throat felt dry, as if my voice might betray something I didn’t want her to hear.

“I had some work with the teacher,” she went on. “Thought I was the last one here… but I guess
not.”

I almost said, Yeah, I’m just leaving, but my voice stayed locked inside.

She studied me for a moment, her eyes curious rather than nosy. “You look… I don’t know… like
you’ve had a rough day.”

I gave a small shrug. “Something like that.”

She didn’t press. Instead, she shifted her notebook under her arm and said, “Come on. I’m
heading out. Walk with me.”

Something in her tone left little room for refusing, so I found myself moving alongside her.

The school felt like a different place with everyone gone. The corridors were quiet, lit by the soft
slant of afternoon sunlight through dusty windows. Far away, a door slammed — maybe the
peon locking up. Our footsteps echoed faintly.

After a minute, she asked, “So… how many friends do you have here?”

I glanced down at my shoes. “One.”

She smirked. “And you only talk to him?”

“Yeah… mostly.”

Her smirk widened into a grin. “So you’re a guy… and you only talk to one guy… are you two,
like… together?”

I stopped mid-step. “What? No! He’s just my friend!”

She laughed, light and unbothered. “Relax. I’m joking. You should’ve seen your face.”

“Not funny,” I muttered, though a smile tugged at me.

“It’s a little funny,” she insisted before her expression softened. “Seriously, though… why don’t
you talk to more people?”

I shrugged. “I’m not good at sports, I’m not the topper, and I’m definitely not the cool one. So…
not much to talk about.”

She tilted her head. “That’s not how it works. People don’t choose friends because of that stuff.
It’s about how you make them feel.”

Her words lingered in my head longer than I expected.

She changed the subject, her tone lighter. “By the way, have you noticed the samosas in the
canteen are getting smaller every year? I swear, in eighth grade they were twice the size.”

I smirked. “Maybe your hands just got bigger.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Or maybe they’re just cheating us.”

I shook my head, still smiling. For the first time that day, I wasn’t thinking about the note.

We passed the notice board. She stopped to glance at it even though there was nothing new.
“You ever read these?” she asked.

“Sometimes. Mostly when I’m bored.”

“I read them to find mistakes.” She tapped the glass. “There’s one right there.”

We walked on. Outside, the light had turned golden, the air cooler with a faint smell of dust and
leaves.

At the road where our paths split, she slowed. “Alright… see you tomorrow,” she said casually,
as if this was just another day.
I watched her walk away, her bag sliding off her shoulder, steps unhurried.

For a moment, I didn’t even think about earlier.

Instead, I caught myself wondering — do girls really talk that much, or am I just the guy who
never talks at all?

And for the first time since I left that corner behind the school, I didn’t feel entirely alone.