The day of the Science Mela arrived. The school was decorated with marigold flowers and colorful ribbons. All the parents were there.
When it was their turn, Aryan stood up. Usually, he would stumble over his words, but he looked at Ananya, and she nodded. He explained the Solar-Cooler perfectly. He talked about the physics of evaporation and the importance of cheap energy for rural India.
The judges were impressed. They won the gold medal.
The Secret ConfessionAfter the crowd left, they walked to the old banyan tree behind the school building. The sky was a soft purple, and the air was cool.
"We did it," Ananya said, holding the gold trophy.
"You did it," Aryan corrected her. "You made me believe I could."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small piece of paper. It was a drawing of Ananya sitting by her window, studying under a lamp. On the back, he had written a few lines in Hindi:
"Tumhare bina yeh safar adhura hota." (Without you, this journey would have been incomplete.)
Ananya read it, and her cheeks turned a dusty pink, the color of a sunset. She didn't give the paper back. Instead, she tucked it into her textbook.
"Next year, we have board exams," she said softly, stepping closer. "We will have to study very hard."
"I know," Aryan said, feeling sad that the project was over.
"But," she added, looking at him with a mischievous smile, "I think I'm going to need a lot of help with my sketches. Will you come over tomorrow?"
Aryan laughed, his heart feeling lighter than a kite in the wind. "Only if there are pakoras."
"Deal," she said, and as they walked out of the school gates, their hands brushed against each other—a small, silent promise in the middle of a noisy Indian street.