"Can you show me your fingers?"
Her voice startled me. My brain kicked into overdrive, spiraling through endless possibilities. Who is this girl, and why does she want to see my fingers? Was she planning to paint them? Analyze them for some hidden secret? The absurdity of it all made my mind race, but on the outside, I just sat there, completely frozen.
Without a word, I extended my hand, avoiding eye contact. She grabbed a pencil and gently tapped my fingers, then started scribbling something in her notebook. What could she possibly be writing? Did she just discover I'm some undercover alien from Men in Black? My imagination ran rampant, dragging me down all sorts of ridiculous rabbit holes.
And then she left. Just like that. No explanation, no goodbye, nothing.
I caught myself watching her as she walked away. "Mom would kill me for this," I thought. Her golden rule was simple: "Never trust a beautiful girl." And yet, here I was, shamelessly breaking it, completely ignoring her advice.
"Did you just get a crush on her?"
The voice snapped me out of my daze. I turned to see the kid sitting next to me, smirking like he'd just uncovered some big secret. Who was this guy, and why was he in my business? I glared at him, but he didn't seem to care.
"Do you wanna know who she is? Huh? Huh?"
I stayed silent, hoping he'd shut up, but he just kept whispering obnoxiously.
"Come on, don't you want to know? Do you?"
Thankfully, the teacher entered the room before I could completely lose it. For once, I was grateful for the start of a lesson. The kid backed off, and the classroom dissolved into the usual hum of lectures and scribbles.
Hours dragged by, and soon it was break time. On my way to the bathroom, the kid popped up again.
"Hey, I'm Nitesh," he said, flashing an annoyingly cheerful grin.
I sighed, reluctant to engage but gave in. "I'm..." I hesitated, then introduced myself.
"Nice to meet you!" he said, like we'd been best friends forever. And before I could stop myself, the question slipped out.
"Who's she?"
Even as the words left my mouth, regret kicked in. Why was I asking about someone whose face I hadn't even seen? All I knew was the back of her head, the pencil in her hand, and that mysterious notebook.
Nitesh grinned wider, clearly enjoying this. "Oh, her? She's..." He rattled off her name and some random details—stuff about her class, something about her being the class monitor. But my mind barely registered any of it.
The next thing I knew, the lesson had started again, and everything blurred into a boring time-lapse. It felt like my brain was skipping through the day, fast-forwarding to the end.
That night, though, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Lying in bed, I replayed everything Nitesh had told me. Her name, her voice, the way she tapped my fingers. Why was she stuck in my head? I didn't even know her, yet here I was, betraying Mom's advice like it meant nothing.
I stared at the ceiling, annoyed at myself for caring so much, until sleep finally came and pulled me away from my own thoughts.