The Unexpected Visit

The day was unusually calm, the kind of afternoon when even the trees seemed content to sway lazily under the soft breeze. Aanya sat in her usual spot by the classroom window, scribbling notes that blurred together the more she tried to focus. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tried to drown herself in her chemistry formulas, but her mind kept tugging at the memory of yesterday—the café, Pradeep's hand brushing hers, the way he'd looked at her afterward, saying he wasn't really acting.

Her phone buzzed against the desk, snapping her back to the present.

Satiya. Again.

"Hey, yesterday was fun, wasn't it?" the message read.

Aanya stared at the screen, a small, disbelieving laugh slipping out. She shook her head, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. It was so typical of him—appearing like a light breeze and leaving behind confusion in his wake.

Before she could type a reply, the classroom door creaked open. The professor wasn't due for another fifteen minutes. A few heads turned toward the door, curious.

And then she saw him.

Satiya, arms full of papers, file folders, and what looked like a model volcano made out of foam and paint.

He wasn't alone. A boy about her age followed him in, carrying a box of art supplies, looking mildly annoyed at the amount of stuff he was lugging around.

Aanya blinked. What...

Satiya spotted her almost immediately. His eyes lit up for a second—familiar and annoying all at once—before he quickly looked away, focusing on the seat behind her.

Of course.

She turned her head just slightly and realized—the boy with him wasn't some random younger brother. It was Amit, Satiya's cousin, who, apparently, was in her class.

Of course.

Out of all the places, all the classrooms... of course the universe decided she'd be stuck with a piece of Satiya in her academic life too.

Aanya looked down at her notes, pretending to be engrossed, but she could feel the ridiculousness of it building inside her like static electricity.

"Hey, Aanya."

She looked up, startled. Satiya was standing closer now, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his jacket pockets.

"Uh, hey." She forced a casual smile. "Dropping off a future Nobel Prize-winning project?"

Satiya chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Something like that. Amit's hopeless with glue guns. Figured I'd supervise before he sets the classroom on fire."

Aanya raised an eyebrow. "You? Supervise?"

He grinned, boyish and unbothered. "I'm very responsible, thank you very much."

She snorted lightly, relaxing despite herself. "Highly debatable."

There was a pause. Neither of them moved.

"So..." Satiya shifted his weight, looking around the nearly empty classroom. "You're still at this coaching center, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Final stretch before exams."

He smiled, almost wistfully. "Feels like yesterday we were dying over math homework together."

Aanya gave a small polite laugh but stayed guarded. She wasn't about to spiral into nostalgia with him today.

Satiya glanced toward the door, then back at her. "Hey, maybe after your classes... we could grab coffee or something? Catch up properly?"

Before Aanya could answer, her phone buzzed again. She glanced down instinctively.

Pradeep: "Outside. Got your books."

Her heart gave a small, inexplicable lurch.

Satiya noticed. His smile faltered for a fraction of a second but recovered quickly. "Boyfriend?"

Aanya tucked her phone away, her voice casual. "Friend."

He nodded slowly, though something unreadable flickered across his face.

"Right," he said, almost too lightly.

Before she could say anything else, Amit called out from the back, "Bhai! Help me with the poster!"

Satiya gave her a short, almost reluctant smile. "Duty calls."

And with that, he walked away, back to the world of half-glued projects and muttering cousins—leaving Aanya sitting there with about fifteen new thoughts buzzing through her head.

Satiya. Pradeep. What am I doing?

She let out a slow breath and gathered her notes. Time to leave before things got any weirder.

Outside, the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a lazy golden haze. A few students milled around, laughing and chatting, but Aanya spotted Pradeep instantly—leaning casually against the university gate, a small paper bag of books hanging from one hand.

He straightened when he saw her, giving that small, familiar nod that always seemed to center her.

"Hey," he said simply, offering her the bag.

"Hey," she echoed, a small smile pulling at her lips.

As they started walking, she noticed Pradeep's gaze flick briefly across the street.

Following it, she caught a glimpse of Satiya—leaning against a lamppost, phone in hand, pretending to scroll but clearly watching her.

Aanya quickly looked away, feeling a strange ripple pass through her chest.

For heaven's sake, why is he still lingering around?

For a moment, neither she nor Pradeep said anything.

Then, quietly, he said, "Old friend?"

"Something like that," she murmured.

Pradeep didn't push. He just walked a little closer, his side brushing against hers—this time deliberate, quiet, sure.

And somehow, that simple touch said everything Aanya needed to hear.

Sometimes you don't need words.

She didn't look back.

She already knew where she wanted to stay.

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To be continued....