The First Conversation
For the first two periods, I couldn't concentrate on a single word the teachers said. My mind was racing. Who was she? Why was she here? Most importantly, how could I talk to her? My friends were whispering among themselves, but I was the one who decided to take the leap.
After the third period, when the teacher left the room, I gathered every ounce of courage I had. I walked up to her desk, my heart thumping against my chest like a drum.
"Hi," I said, trying my best to sound cool and casual. "How are you doing?"
She looked up, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. Her eyes were calm and intelligent. "Alhamdulillah, I'm fine," she replied with a polite smile. "And you?"
"I'm... hanging in there," I stammered, feeling my face heat up. "But honestly, I think I'm about to feel a lot better now."
She tilted her head, a playful spark in her eyes. "Oh? Why is that? Did someone do something special to your heart to make you feel better?"
I was caught off guard. "Uh... I mean... well, you could say that!" I fumbled, unable to give a straight answer.
"Okay then," she laughed softly, her voice like music.
Just then, our math teacher entered. "Students, settle down! We have a new student joining us today. Have you all welcomed her? Child, please stand up. What is your name?"
She stood up gracefully. "Yes, Sir. My name is Ibn Jahed Bin Shuva."
"Welcome, Shuva," the teacher smiled. "And where have you come from?"
"I've moved here from Chittagong, Sir," she answered.
The "City Girl" mystery was solved, but for me, a new mystery was just beginning.