IN LOVE WITH HER million little things

The Tuition Lessons

**Chapter Five: The Tuition Connection**

You’ve probably heard the saying, *“Jinke love connection school me nahi bante, unke connection tuition me bante hai.”* For us, it couldn’t have been more true. We had crossed paths countless times in school—shared hallways, exchanged casual glances, but nothing more. She was just a familiar face in the sea of students. There was nothing extraordinary about our encounters, nothing that made me think she would one day become someone I couldn’t imagine my life without.

But that all changed when we found ourselves in the same tuition class. It wasn’t like some magical moment where sparks flew the instant we sat down beside each other. No, it was much slower than that. Bit by bit, class after class, our connection began to form, almost imperceptibly at first.

It started with the usual pleasantries—small talk before the lecture began, a comment about how boring the teacher was, shared laughter over how endless the classes seemed. The kind of conversation that felt easy, light. But soon, those casual chats stretched into something deeper. We found ourselves talking long after the tuition ended, lingering outside the classroom, exchanging thoughts about school, life, dreams, and everything in between.

Before I even realized it, she had become my closest friend. We teased each other constantly, poking fun at everything from the way one of us would stumble over an answer to how mind-numbingly dull the homework was. There was a lightness to it, the kind of teasing that was always wrapped in affection. Beneath the laughter, though, something deeper was growing—something unspoken but undeniable.

Our friendship blossomed into something that felt inevitable, like we were always meant to find each other in this way. Even our parents started to notice how inseparable we had become. They’d give us knowing smiles when her name came up in conversation, like they already understood something we hadn’t yet admitted to ourselves. But back then, to us, it was still just friendship. Or at least, that’s what we told ourselves.

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**Chapter Six: The Unspoken Possession**

There was something more between us, though, even if we never talked about it. It was in the little things—the way our eyes would lock for just a moment longer than necessary, the way we seemed to always gravitate toward each other no matter who else was around. There was this quiet possessiveness between us, though it wasn’t the kind that caused jealousy or made us suspicious. It was more like an unspoken understanding, a kind of silent claim on each other’s time and attention.

We never labeled it, never said out loud what was obvious to everyone else. But I knew. I knew the way my chest tightened when she laughed a little too hard at someone else’s joke. I saw the flicker of something in her eyes when someone else asked me for help with their notes or got a little too friendly. We never said it, but we both knew—there was an ownership there, a quiet need to be the most important person in each other’s lives.

It wasn’t romantic. At least, not in the way people usually think of romance. We didn’t hold hands, didn’t steal kisses behind the classroom or leave love notes in each other’s notebooks. It wasn’t like that. It was just this… connection. A bond that felt stronger than friendship but less defined than love. We were possessive of each other because, deep down, we couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else knowing each other as well as we did. And maybe that was love in its own way.

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**Chapter Seven: Bunking and Bonding**

The routine of tuition became our comfort. Every day, we’d walk to class together, sometimes even making plans to bunk it entirely and go off on our own little adventures. It wasn’t about what we did; it was about being together. We didn’t need anything special to make it fun. It could be something as simple as grabbing ice cream or sitting in the park and laughing about how terrible our math teacher was. Whatever we did, it was always the best part of my day because it was with her.

Our conversations weren’t limited to the ordinary. We talked about everything—the big dreams we had, the worries we tried to hide from the world, the little victories that felt too small to share with anyone else but each other. And the best part? We didn’t always need words. Sometimes, just a glance was enough. I could look at her and know exactly what she was thinking. It felt like we had developed our own language, one that only we could understand.

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**Chapter Eight: Something Rare**

Looking back now, maybe that was love in its purest form. But at the time, we didn’t try to define it. We didn’t need to. Whatever it was, it was *ours*. It wasn’t about grand romantic gestures or declarations of feelings. It wasn’t even about physical closeness. It was about the way we could simply exist together, completely comfortable in each other’s presence, never needing to be anyone but ourselves.

There was something rare in that, something I’ve come to realize not everyone finds. It was the ease with which we could be together, the way our silences were never awkward, the way our laughter came effortlessly. There was no pressure, no expectation. Just *me* and *her*, in a world that felt like it was made for us.

We didn’t say “I love you.” We didn’t need to. In those moments, in that time, what we had was enough. It was something deeper than words, something that didn’t need a name. It was the kind of connection that made the world seem a little brighter, a little easier, just because she was in it.

And maybe that’s what people call love. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, it was us. And sometimes, that’s all it needs to be.