This one begins oddly.
“Anveshna, do you remember? The girl I was waiting for in the first story — the one I never said goodbye to?”
Sure. The imaginary friend you made sound like a ghost in a horror movie.
If I had this level of commitment during calculus which i have for your letter's, I swear—I’d have become father of calculus by outdating and kicking Newton aside .
“She is important because She was like Cupid in my story. Accidentally, of course. She was a newcomer, like me. Like my throwball-practice friend. Let's name them. Throwball girl: B. Cupid girl: A.(same girl whom i mentioned in my first encounter with him[7th episode-parkinglot smile.])
“A was in his class — I mean, his section. B and I were in the same section. And because of A, I somehow landed in his classroom twice.”
Two awkward lunch break incidents. Two silent brushes with something dangerously close to a crush.
Incident One: A’s Birthday
“It was A’s birthday. New dress. Fancy. She didn’t want to sit on the muddy playground like the rest of us mortals.
“We asked her to join us in our class. She refused. Offered her class instead. ‘No boys inside,’ she said. Reassuring smile and everything.
“We peeked in. Empty. So B and I sat down, opened our tiffins. I was just lifting the first bite to my mouth when—boom—the entire army of boys marched in.
“We stared at A. She smiled. ‘They're just here for the basket,’ she said. They took it. And stayed. Opened their lunch boxes. Started eating.
“A leaned over and whispered, ‘If you both keep acting weird, I’ll introduce you to them.’
“B and I were socially allergic to boys. This was a high-level threat.
“We tried to act normal. There we were — two extremely uncomfortable girls, in the last bench of the last row, beside a full row of very loud boys.
“A was loving it.
“Finally, the boys left. My soul returned to my body.
“I shoved my entire lunch into my mouth in under two minutes. Looked over at B — she’d taken one bite.
“You remember that ‘painfully slow eater’ I mentioned in a previous letter? That’s B.
“I had to force-feed her. Almost ruined her food pipe in the process. We had to escape before the boys returned.
“We made it. Missed them by seconds.”
Incident Two: Children’s Day
“Same story. A invited us again. I reminded her of Birthday Chaos. She promised this time was different.
“There were already girls in her class, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt.
“I ate quickly. Went to throw the wrapper in the dustbin near the door. Looked up—and there he was.
“Standing at the door. Holding back a boy who was trying to enter. Smiling. Not a big goofy one — just that soft smile that refuses to leave the face.
“‘All girls are inside. Where are you trying to go?’ he asked his friend, still smiling.
“He walked away with him.
“That was the second time.
“And I don’t know why, but just one glimpse of his face used to make me feel… different. Not butterflies. Just... a strange stillness.
“But if anything ever went beyond a look—like, if it even hinted at an actual interaction—I would panic. I wasn’t ready for more than distance.”
I paused. Eyebrows raised.
So basically, she liked him from a safe, no-talking, no-eye-contact distance.
I kept reading.
“Sometimes I saw him from the water-filling area, though rarely — As it was near the boys’ washroom and always crowded. Once or twice, I even caught glimpses of him from the girls’ washroom, from where his classroom window was clearly visible, and he usually sat right by it.
With all these fragments, 8th grade passed. Vague, unfinished memories. But mine.
And then something happened that summer — after 8th grade. Something I never expected.
Want to know what it was?
Don’t forget to read my next letter.”
I sighed.
Yeah. She definitely thinks she’s writing a suspense novel now.
And weirdly, it was working.NO, NO it's not.Is it?
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