Karthik arrived early the next morning, his uniform crisp, hair combed, and bag lighter than usual—he'd left behind the books he didn't need, but carried a small notebook. A notebook that now held more than just notes. It held courage.
He spotted Ananya by the water cooler, her hair tied up today, talking to a junior with her usual warmth. For a moment, he just stood there, watching the way she brought light into every space she entered. And then, before fear could grip him, he moved.
"Hey."
She turned, surprised but not annoyed. "Hey, early bird."
"I wanted to give you something," he said, holding out the notebook.
She raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Just… open it when you're free. Not now. Later."
Her expression was unreadable, but she accepted it and tucked it into her bag without a word.
They didn't speak much the rest of the day. But it was different. There was no tension, only anticipation. Karthik's mind raced all through Math class—had he written enough? Was it too much?
Inside the notebook were small journal entries. Short, honest confessions. Nothing poetic. Just… him.
> Entry 1:
I never knew someone like you could exist in my world. You smile like it's easy. I think I'm learning how to smile too, thanks to you.
> Entry 2:
When I saw you cry behind the school auditorium after that modeling show, I realized… you're real. And brave. And everything I'm not.
> Entry 3:
I think I like you. I think I've liked you since the day you lent me your pen without asking why I never brought mine.
> Entry 4:
I don't know how to say it out loud yet. But I'm trying. Every day. For you.
That evening, as the sky turned pink over the city, Karthik got a message.
Ananya:
Page 3 made me cry. Page 4 made me smile.
You don't need to be perfect. Just real.
And I'm here. Still here.
He stared at her words for a long moment before replying:
Karthik:
Then maybe… we can try being real together.
She replied with a single heart emoji. Simple. Direct. Enough.
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End of Chapter 63