The days slipped by in a quiet rhythm after the second exam. Routine swallowed everything—wake up, get ready, revise what was left, do the daily work, wait for evening, then walk to Shivis's house for studying. We argued about answers, compared notes, explained small things, laughed at bigger mistakes, and somehow made those long hours feel short.
But behind all this…
One thought lived quietly in a corner of my mind.
When will I see her again?
No matter how many pages I turned, how many questions I solved, or how many times we repeated the same chapters, the memory of her calm voice, her simple smile, and the way she exchanged her paper so casually kept returning.
Three days passed.
Then five.
Then a week.
Still no news about her.
And then came exam day again.
That morning, something felt different. Not like stress, not like fear — but something restless. I reached early, earlier than any other day. Even Shivis raised an eyebrow when I hopped onto his bike without a word.
"You became topper today?" he laughed.
But I didn't answer.
I just wanted to reach fast — maybe she would arrive early too. Maybe this time I could talk before the exam, without the rush, without the bell, without hesitation.
The moment we reached the college gate, I instinctively looked around.
Nothing.
No sign of her.
Still, I kept scanning the corridor, my heartbeat jumping slightly every time someone with similar hair or height appeared.
But something happened the moment we entered the main hall.
"Bro… seating arrangement changed again," Shivis said, pointing at the notice board.
My hope dropped for a second — but then rose even higher.
Because this time the list was arranged roll-number wise, and my roll number fell right beside hers again.
I stared at the list…
then back at the list.
I don't mind.
In fact, I'm happy.
Maybe too happy.
I entered the hall quickly, half pretending to look for my seat, half pretending not to be excited, and mostly failing in both. I walked row to row, searching not for my desk first, but for hers.
And then I found her.
She was standing near the last row, talking quietly to someone — a girl who resembled her slightly. Two sisters. Her posture was relaxed, she was smiling softly, and the way she tilted her head while listening made her look even calmer than usual.
Only then did I realise something —
Her sister's roll number was also in my hall today.
"Oho…" I murmured to myself.
"Means time waste today."
If her sister was around, talking to her would be impossible. That tiny window before the exam — gone.
But then something unexpected happened.
She came to her seat early.
And for the first time, she spoke before I did.
"How are you?" she asked, placing her bag down.
I froze for a second.
It still surprised me how she could speak so simply, so normally, while my heartbeat felt like it was preparing for an Olympic race.
"I'm… okay," I replied, probably too fast.
Then, despite all the hesitation in my mind, I asked, "What about learning?"
The question felt heavy, like I had lifted a mountain just to say those four words.
She didn't hesitate even for a breath.
"I learned all my part," she said confidently.
In my mind, I said only one thing:
She is really intelligent.
And somehow I felt proud of her. Proud of someone whose name I still didn't know.
Before I could say anything else, my friend Jayson arrived, talking loudly about exam predictions. He waved, spoke two sentences, and went to his desk.
She looked at him, then at me, and asked,
"Do you know him?"
"Yes," I nodded. "He's my friend. How do you know him?"
She explained briefly — they were classmates in 9th before she shifted to another district for further studies.
That one sentence hit me harder than expected.
She studied here before… in my town.
Which means she belonged here, even if she left.
Which means she wasn't a stranger in the way I thought.
"And you're studying here again?" I asked quietly in my mind, though I didn't dare to voice it.
Still, something inside me shifted — something that made me want to know more about her, about her school, her life, her small world that somehow collided with mine.
Before more thoughts could take shape, the bell rang.
Time for the exam.
My pen touched the paper, but my mind didn't.
I was thinking only about one thing — her presence right beside me.
I wanted to talk again.
To ask something.
Anything.
So I whispered, "Can you show me this answer?"
She looked at my question, nodded without hesitation, and slid her answer sheet slightly toward me.
No questions.
No rejection.
Just… yes.
That small gesture lit something in me — not love, not anything dramatic — just a feeling that she understood my hesitation more than anyone else.
But minutes later, I noticed something —
She was writing answers from the chapters I was supposed to learn.
I glanced at her page, then at my own, and almost laughed inside.
So she also learned every chapter… exactly like me.
We were more similar than I thought.
The room was silent, but inside my mind everything was chaos.
Because even though she sat beside me, I couldn't write properly.
My handwriting looked worse, my speed slower, my concentration nowhere.
At one point, I whispered,
"Can I copy this answer?"
She didn't even look surprised.
She didn't hesitate.
She simply moved her paper a little so I could see.
No judgment.
No attitude.
Just silent permission.
When the exam ended, something unexpected happened again.
A boy came near her desk.
Tall, slim but not too skinny, sharp nose, neatly combed hair, wearing a pastel shirt tucked properly — the type of guy who looks like a quiet topper or someone who knows exactly what he's doing. His body posture was confident but polite, not overfriendly, but familiar enough.
They spoke for a few seconds.
Then he walked away.
I looked at him once casually, then again with a little curiosity, then again with something I didn't want to name.
Questions ran through my head faster than my heartbeat.
Who is he?
Why is she talking to him?
Are they classmates?
Are they friends?
Or… something else?
I forced myself to look away.
I shouldn't interfere. I don't even know her name.
She then spoke to her sister — the same girl she had been talking to earlier. Their conversation was quiet, but her smile made me feel strangely calm.
So I asked softly, "Who is she?"
"You can say… best friend," she replied.
Then with a tiny smile, she added, "She is my father's sister's daughter. So, she is my sister."
"O… so that's how," I said in my mind, connecting pieces slowly.
Before she left, I asked one more thing, mostly to keep talking, even if for a second longer.
"What about the chapters? Why did you study the first four — the ones assigned to me?"
She smiled, a small smile that felt like a quiet victory.
"Because I wanted to," she said.
Her sister called her, and they walked away together.
I watched her leave.
And once again… I hoped she would turn back.
But just like last time —
No turning,
No looking back,
No pause.
She disappeared into the corridor.
I sighed, left my desk, and walked outside.
But at the exit, I saw something that shook me again.
The same boy from earlier.
And she was asking him to call someone.
That moment told me in one second—
She knows him.
Not randomly.
Not formally.
But properly.
I didn't like the feeling that came with that thought. Not jealousy — just confusion mixed with something strange, something new.
Before my thoughts spiraled further, Shivis came running.
"Bro! Who is the girl sitting beside my brother?" he asked.
Than I pointed to her and her sister, then Shivis teased me about the girl again.
We walked toward the bike stand while talking and he said to me that her sister is sitting next me in previous paper.
I saw her leaving on her brother's bike.
And I kept watching … until she disappeared completely.
Even after that, I kept thinking — who was the boy? How does she know him? What's their connection?
On the way home, Shivis asked again,
"How's the girl, bro? What's her name? Anything happened?"
I told him she studied here before 9th, in a school that was always considered a competitor of ours. Small town rivalry — but a connection nonetheless.
"And her sister's name?" I asked.
"I forgot, bro… wait… something like Shris… maybe Sarene," he replied.
The moment he said it, something clicked inside me.
Perhaps now there is a tiny chance of finding her… 50–50.
He dropped me home.
Seven days remained for the next exam.
Seven long days.
And that night, as I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, one thought kept circling my mind —
What will I ask her in the next paper?
What will she say?
Will she talk the same way?
should I ask Jayson about her?
And… who was that boy?
But the biggest curiosity of all…
What is she thinking about me — if anything at all?
"I didn't know what would happen next, but one thing was clear—this girl had unknowingly turned my calm, planned life into a story I couldn't stop thinking about."