The next morning, I woke up feeling like my brain had rebooted. Everything from yesterday—her, the chatterbox, the picnic talk—
came rushing back like a glitchy loading screen. I dragged myself out of bed, telling myself, It's just another day. Don't overthink it.
At school, things felt… off. Maybe it was just me, or maybe it was the way she didn't even glance in my direction all morning. I found
myself watching her from across the room—not on purpose, of course. It just happened.
She was laughing about something with the chatterbox again. For some reason, it annoyed me. Not her laugh, but the fact that he
could make her laugh so easily. I mean, what was so funny, anyway?
Nitesh snapped me out of it. "Bro, you're staring."
I blinked. "What? No, I'm not."
He smirked. "Sure, sure. By the way, did you decide about the picnic?"
Ah, the picnic. The same topic again. "I'm not going," I said, trying to sound firm.
"Why not? It's just one day. You'll survive."
I shrugged. "Crowds, remember?"
Nitesh rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
The rest of the morning went by in a blur. Classes, teachers droning on, me barely paying attention. And then, during lunch, it
happened.
I was sitting with Nitesh and the group of "unique creatures" when she walked over. Not just to us—to me.
"Hey," she said, standing there with that calm smile.
I froze. "Uh… hi?"
"So, you're not coming to the picnic?"
I looked at her, then at Nitesh, who was smirking like he knew something I didn't. "Uh, yeah. Crowds aren't really my thing."
She tilted her head, studying me like I was some weird puzzle she couldn't figure out. "That's too bad. It's going to be fun."
"Yeah, sure," I mumbled, trying not to meet her eyes.
"Alright then," she said, turning to leave. But before she walked away, she added, "Maybe next time, huh?"
For a second, I just sat there, trying to process what had just happened. Then Nitesh leaned in. "Dude, she totally wanted you to
come."
"Shut up," I muttered, but my face was already heating up.
The rest of the day passed in a haze. I barely remembered anything the teachers said. All I could think about was her voice, her smile,
and those words: Maybe next time.
That night, lying on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, replaying the conversation over and over. Why did she care whether I went or
not? And why did I care so much about what she thought?
My server wasn't just overheating this time—it felt like it was about to crash entirely. But instead of shutting down, I stayed awake,
lost in thought, until the first light of dawn crept through my window.