Chapter 1: The Boy at the Bus Stop

The first time Fariha saw him, she didn't even know his name.

Every morning, as she walked to school, she passed by a certain street in her neighborhood. It wasn't anything special—just another road lined with quiet houses, sleepy from the early morning hush. But there, at the corner where the main road met the residential lanes, a boy always stood, waiting.

He wasn't like the other kids who fidgeted, kicked at stones, or scrolled through their phones while waiting for their transport. He just stood there, perfectly still, hands in his pockets, eyes on the road as if nothing else existed.

Fariha noticed him out of habit. She didn't pay much attention at first—why would she? They weren't in the same school, and he wasn't someone she had reason to think about. But there was something about the way he waited, so focused, so silent, that stuck in her mind.

Then, months passed, and the routine stayed the same. She walked by, and he waited. Never once did they speak, never once did their eyes meet. To him, she was probably just another face in the morning crowd.

Until the first day of eighth grade.

That morning, Fariha was running late. She barely had time to grab her books before rushing to school, skipping breakfast in her hurry. When she finally made it to class, she found the room buzzing with excitement.

"Did you hear?" her friend Jiya leaned in, voice low but eager. "A new student is joining today."

Fariha barely reacted as she took her seat. New students joined all the time. What was the big deal?

Jiya continued anyway. "They say he was top of his class in his old school. Like, a real genius."

Fariha raised an eyebrow. Top of his class? That got her attention.

She wasn't one to care about new students, but she was competitive when it came to academics. Science was her thing, and if someone was coming in with the title of 'genius,' she needed to know exactly what she was up against.

Before she could ask more, the door opened, and the teacher walked in, followed by someone new.

Fariha's breath caught in her throat.

It was him. The boy from the bus stop.

She recognized him instantly—same neatly combed hair, same quiet presence, same eyes that always looked like they saw everything but cared for nothing.

The teacher wrote his name on the board in clear, bold letters.

Yunis.

So that was his name.

Fariha didn't know why that realization sent a strange jolt through her chest. It wasn't like it mattered. But as Yunis took a seat at the front, she found herself unable to look away.

Maybe it was because she had spent so many mornings unknowingly passing by him. Or maybe it was because, for the first time, she realized their worlds weren't so separate after all.

Whatever it was, one thing became clear—this was only the beginning.

---

The Math Group Disaster

A few weeks later, their paths crossed again—this time in a way Fariha definitely didn't want.

Math had never been her strongest subject. She wasn't terrible, but numbers didn't excite her the way science did. So when the teacher announced that they'd be split into study groups, she barely paid attention.

Until she heard her name.

"Fariha, you'll be in Group 3," the teacher said, scanning the list. "Your leader will be Yunis."

Fariha's head snapped up. Yunis?

She looked across the room, and sure enough, there he was—calm as ever, as if leading a group was nothing to him. Ugh.

Her group consisted of three other students—two girls and another boy—but Fariha couldn't focus on them. She was too busy mentally preparing for what was about to be a long, exhausting semester.

Their first group session took place during break time. Fariha had stepped out for a few minutes, thinking she had time, but when she returned, she saw that everyone was already seated, their books open, deep in discussion.

And Yunis? He was sitting at the head of the group, already in 'leader mode.'

She hurried to take her seat, only to realize she had forgotten her pen.

For a second, she froze. Crap.

She quickly scanned the table. Yunis had an extra pen lying beside his book—one he wasn't even using. Before she could ask, though, he did something unexpected.

He glanced at the pen… and then casually tossed it to another boy in the group.

Fariha's jaw clenched. What the hell?

He saw her sit down without a pen. He knew she needed it. And instead of offering it, he just got rid of it like it was nothing?

That was the first time she truly disliked Yunis.

The second time came a few days later when their teacher used him in an example.

They were learning about different modes of communication, and the teacher was explaining how messengers sometimes alter messages.

"Imagine Yunis is your messenger," the teacher said, smiling as he looked at the class. "Let's say he's supposed to deliver a love letter from one of you to another person. But instead of giving it properly, he changes the letter to make it seem like he's the one confessing."

A few students laughed, whispering about how weird that would be.

Fariha turned to see how Yunis would react.

He didn't even smile.

He just sat there, completely blank, as if the entire scenario was beneath him.

Creepy.

Fariha didn't know why, but that moment stuck with her. Why didn't he react? Did nothing faze this guy?

For someone she barely spoke to, Yunis was already becoming too annoying for her liking.

And yet, despite that—despite the pen incident, despite the weird messenger scenario—she couldn't stop noticing him.