The Hope You Left Me With

The monsoon didn't ask permission that morning. It just came. By 7:30, the road to school was already a river. Autos splashed past, and kids ran in with plastic bags over their heads. I was one of them, laughing because Lyra had slipped and her socks were completely brown. "Move!" Alia shouted, pulling the gate open. "We're gonna be late and Mrs. Nair will kill us." 11th. New class. New room. Half the faces we grew up with were gone. Hanna's bench was empty. So was Aarav's. The school felt bigger and quieter all at once. "Second row, left side," Kia said, already claiming territory. She threw her bag down on four seats. "Meher, Lyra, Alia, me. Same as always." I dropped my bag and shook water off my hair. The room smelled like wet uniforms and chalk and that old fan that always made that clicking sound. "Meher!" Lian's voice cut through the noise. He was standing at the back near the windows, one hand in his pocket. He'd been my best friend since LKG. He knew what my fake laugh sounded like and what my real one did. He was sitting next to Nick. Nick. I'd known of him since 8th. Topper. Cricket team. The kind of boy teachers used as an example in PTM. _"Be like Nick, he completes his homework."_ Neat shirt, short hair, that calm face that never gave anything away. He was also taken. Everyone knew. Hanna. She'd moved to another school last year but they were still together. He posted her on his story every other day. "Seat saved," Lian said as I walked over. "For you. And Alia." Alia came in behind me, shaking out her umbrella. She and Lian had this thing. No confession, no relationship status. Just coffee after class and shared earphones and the way they looked at each other when they thought no one was watching. Nick glanced up when I sat down next to Lian. Just a glance. "Hi," he said. Quiet. "Hi," I said back. June and July passed like that. Rain, notes, canteen samosas that were always too oily. Lian and Alia got closer. Nick and Hanna did video calls in the break. Sera, Hanna's best friend, sat two rows ahead of us and told us stories about Hanna's new school. Everything was normal. Until September. September came with less rain and more heat. The fans spun overtime and it still wasn't enough. 11th didn't feel new anymore. We had a routine. Morning prayer. Math. Bio. Lunch. Tuition. Home. It started on a Tuesday. Math period. Third period. The worst one. Mrs. Nair was at the board, her voice monotone. "If A is equal to 2x plus 3..." I wasn't listening. I was shading the margins of my notebook black. That's when I felt it. That weird prickle on the back of your neck. Like someone is looking. I looked up. He was three rows back, diagonal to me. Notebook open, pen still. Eyes not on the board. On me. The second our eyes met, he looked down. Like he'd been caught. His pen started moving too fast. My face went hot and my stomach dropped. _Did I imagine that?_ I told myself I did. I was wrong. It happened again on Thursday. Morning prayer. We all stood with eyes closed, heads down. I opened one eye for just a second, thinking about lunch. Third row. Eyes open. Looking straight at me across twenty people. Across the prayer hall. When he saw me looking, he closed his eyes immediately. Like nothing. Friday. Corridor. Lyra told a joke and I was laughing too loud - that's me, I laugh loud. I turned, still laughing, and there he was by the notice board with his friends. And he was looking at me. Not at the joke. At me. He looked away when I caught him. "You okay? You're red," Lyra asked. "Heat," I said. That night I lay in bed and replayed it. All three times. Each time, two seconds. Each time, him looking away first. _He has Hanna. He posts her. He calls her. So why..._ On Saturday I broke. I texted Lian at 11pm. _is nick weird or is it me_ _youre overthinking bro. he has hanna. chill._ I typed _ok_ and put my phone down. But I didn't chill. Monday, I decided to test it. I wouldn't look. Not once. Math class. I kept my eyes on the board the whole time. But I could feel it. That weight on the side of my face. I lasted twenty minutes. Then I looked. He was looking. At his notebook, but his eyes flicked up the second I did. And then down. It was like a game. And I was losing. After class I went to the washroom and splashed water on my face. On the bus home, I sat by the window. Trees blurred past. September had just started. We still had eight months of 11th left. And nine months of 12th after that. I didn't know it then, but that two-second glance in math class was the first page of a very long chapter. And I was already in it.