Invitation to the rooftop..

★ Asif's POV ★

The sun was still stretching itself across the sleepy sky when I left home, but I was already wide awake.

And not because I had a good night's sleep.

Nope.

It was because she replied.

Ayesha.

The silver-haired goddess from Williston High.

And not only did we talk—she wanted to watch a movie with me.

A movie.

With me.

Voluntarily.

I don't know if this is how guys in those cheesy romance anime feel, but if this is what butterflies in the stomach feel like—mine were currently having a wrestling match inside me.

I grinned to myself like an idiot while walking down the street.

"Maybe Sajim was right… Youth isn't so bad…"

SMACK!

A hard slap landed on my back, snapping me straight into orbit.

"WAKE UP, LOVER BOY!!"

There he was.

The eternal clown.

The devil in school uniform.

Sajim.

I nearly tripped.

"D-Dude! You scared the hell outta me!"

"Ha! Your face was redder than a tomato. Don't tell me she already sent you a voice note!"

"Shut up," I muttered, turning my head away and trying to hide my burning ears.

But he didn't let go.

Of course not.

"Come on, come on, spill it!" he chirped like a gossipy aunt at a family wedding. "Did you text her last night?"

I hesitated for a second… but this was Sajim. The one person who's always been there. If I can't tell him, who else?

"…Yeah," I said softly.

"Ohh?"

His grin widened like a lion spotting an injured deer.

"And?"

I sighed.

And then… I told him everything.

The "hi", the panic, the accidental confession of wanting to talk, the small talk about movies and finally, her surprising response.

As I recounted the conversation, Sajim was doing this annoying slow clap like I just won a gold medal in "How Not To Talk To A Girl 101".

"Damn, Asif," he said. "You're levelling up."

I blushed again.

But then—

He grinned.

Again.

"So when's the movie date, huh? Gonna wear cologne? Want me to book a fancy restaurant?"

"Sajim!!" I nearly yelled.

"Shhh! Someone will hear!"

He laughed so loud it echoed off the school gates.

I elbowed him in the side. "Promise me you won't tell anyone, please."

He put a hand over his chest dramatically. "My lips are sealed. Cross my heart and hope to lose signal."

I sighed in relief.

Somehow, his approval… it made me feel a little braver.

Maybe I'm not so hopeless after all.

By the time we reached school, the butterflies had finally calmed down. At least a little.

We split up at the corridor—Sajim had to report to the student council office, as always.

I quietly entered the classroom alone, just as I've done for the past two years. The room buzzed with the usual morning noise: chatters, footsteps, desks scraping.

But then—

Something unusual caught my eye.

A small, folded piece of paper on my desk.

Tucked between my books.

I frowned.

No name.

No decoration.

Just… a plain note.

I hesitated. Looked around.

No one was looking at me.

Quietly, I slipped the paper into my lap and unfolded it.

> "Come to the roof alone during lunch… it's important. And no need to tell anyone about it."

That's it.

No name. No clue. Just… this.

I blinked.

My heart dropped to my stomach.

What kind of spy-movie nonsense is this?

I looked around again.

Did someone see me? Was I being pranked?

My first thought—Sajim. But no. This didn't feel like one of his jokes. It was too quiet. Too specific.

Could it be… Ayesha?

Wait. No. She's not even from this school.

Then… who?

Before I could gather any more thoughts, the door burst open and in walked Sajim—with Rimon beside him.

Rimon spotted me immediately and smirked.

"Look who came early. Was it for someone special? Maybe someone with silver hair?"

"Shut. Up," I groaned, trying not to laugh.

Sajim wiggled his eyebrows like a proud uncle.

I swear, if I ever become famous, these two will ruin me with interviews.

Thankfully, our math teacher arrived moments later, saving me from more interrogation.

But as I opened my notebook…

I couldn't focus.

My eyes may have been on the board.

But my mind…

It was counting down to lunch.

Tick.

Tock.

Rooftop.

Lunch.

Alone.

What's waiting for me up there?