Coded Uncounter 143

Mayah Idris There’s a kind of silence in Serentis City that only exists before dawn—before horns scream and people pretend they’re not aching. From the rooftop of our apartment building, I could see the city’s pulse waking beneath me, digital billboards flickering half-alive. But my world didn’t start until I opened my laptop. Aurelia High’s server pinged quietly. Another message uploaded on the student forum. Not mine. Mine never had a sender’s name. Only numbers. 143. The code. The confession. The mistake I never meant to send. I ran a finger along the cracked edge of my phone screen, staring at the unsent draft. > You noticed me that day, when no one else did. I didn’t know kindness could feel like rescue. This is not a love letter. It’s just… a coded thank you. 143. It wasn’t supposed to go through. I blinked. The message wasn’t a draft anymore. Somehow, in my exhaustion, I’d pressed send. And it didn’t just go to the student server. It went to a person. Zayn Malik. Of all people. The poetry prince. The one whose words made girls sigh and teachers smile. The one who helped me pick up my scattered books three months ago and never looked back. But I remembered. Every second of it. I slammed the laptop shut. --- Later at school, Aurelia buzzed with its usual chaos—students brushing past each other in the main hall, the air filled with perfume, sweat, and secrets. I kept my head low. “Hey, did you read that cryptic love note on the forum last night?” a girl whispered to her friend. “Somebody’s obsessed with Zayn.” My stomach dropped. He didn’t look at me when he passed. But something about the way his fingers gripped the strap of his bag told me he’d read it. He knew someone out there had said “I love you” without saying a word.