Can we hangout?

★ Asif's POV★

After lunch, the rest of the day went as usual—more teasing, more lectures, and a bucketload of regret for not doing my homework. Sajim, Rimon, and a few other guys turned my life into a running comedy show, as always. The only thing missing was a laugh track.

When the final bell rang, I felt a wave of relief. Not just because school was over, but because I somehow survived the emotional whiplash of the day.

As I packed my bag, Rimon dropped the bomb.

"Bro, I get it, you're in love or whatever—but that doesn't mean you'll skip all your homework!"

I glared at him. "Look who's talking. The same guy who thinks the 'S' in school stands for 'soccer.'"

I tried to sound sarcastic, maybe even witty. Didn't land.

Rimon frowned. "Dude, not the same thing. I brought my homework. You didn't."

I had no comeback. Nothing. I just nodded, admitting defeat without a single word.

Sajim patted my back like I just lost a championship game. That somehow felt worse.

Rimon headed off to soccer club, leaving me and Sajim behind. I thought he'd head toward the student council room too, but instead, he decided to walk home with me.

It felt… off.

I glanced at him. "You're skipping the meeting?"

He shrugged. "Not in the mood. I'll send someone else the reports."

It wasn't just that. Lately, he'd been acting like some overprotective mom glued to my side. Not that I hated it… but still.

–Is he trying to control my life?

I joked to myself.

As we walked home, Sajim started giving me tips on how to ask Ayesha out—without calling it a "date." His big advice?

"Don't say date. Say 'hang out.' Sounds cooler. Less pressure. More… Asif-friendly."

He made it sound so simple. But to me, it was like the unknown in the universe . Half of his advice flew over my head.

Eventually, we split ways at the turn to his house. He gave me a pat on the shoulder.

"Don't overthink. Just do it."

"Yeah yeah…"

When I reached home, it was empty. Again.

I dropped my bag, showered, changed, and sat down to do the homework I'd ignored all week.

It took a few hours, but I got it done. Not perfect, but done. And that counts for something.

By the time I looked at the clock, it was 8:43 p.m.

Dad's still not back. Must be working late again.

I placed rice in the cooker, heated up yesterday's leftover egg curry with two boiled eggs, and made dinner. A little victory.

At 10 p.m., I sat down to eat and left Dad's portion covered for whenever he'd return. Same routine.

Then, back to my room.

My phone buzzed. It's a message from Sajim.

>"Do it, lover boy."

I exhaled. My fingers were trembling a bit. But I opened Ayesha's chat anyway.

"Hey, are you up?"

A few seconds passed after I sent it.

>"Hey there, Asif. How are you doing?"

There it was. That same soft warmth from the other night. It made my cheeks heat up.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. Got scolded by almost every teacher today."

I replied honestly.

>"Lol. Must've been a rough day. What did you do?"

It's going way too smoothly..

"Forgot my homework."

>"That's it? Come on, that's mild. I once spilled orange juice all over a teacher's white shirt."

"Seriously?!"

>"Yep. Third grade. Still a story at my old school."

I laughed—like actually laughed out loud. The chat went on like that. Smooth. Funny. Real.

But then came the moment.

I stared at the screen. My thumbs hovered. Then typed.

"Well, how about we hang out this Saturday? We could go watch a movie together…"

Sent.

My heart was pounding.

Why did I say that? Was that smooth? Was that cringe? Would she laugh? Would she ghost me? Would she tell her friends I'm a weirdo?

The message was seen.

I froze.

Then the reply popped up.

>"Well, I'm free this Saturday. So I'm in."

…Wait. What?

>"Where should we meet?"

I just stared. My mouth slightly open. I re-read the message like four times.

Then another ping.

>"?"

Right. I hadn't replied.

I scrambled through my brain. What did Sajim say again? Someplace open… somewhere where they could talk after the movie too.

"How about in front of the train station? There's a big market and movie theatre nearby."

I nervously hold my phone.

"That would be perfect. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

Tomorrow?

Wait… tomorrow!?

I looked at the time.

12:07 a.m.

It's already Friday.

I typed quickly.

"Same here. Good night."

Phone down. Face into pillow. Heart doing gymnastics.

She said yes.

She actually said yes.

I laid on the bed, wide awake, eyes fixed at the ceiling.

In less than thirty-six hours, I'd be watching a movie… with Ayesha.

Is this real?

It still felt like a dream.

But I didn't want to wake up.