From the next day, the city's golden evenings and crowded streets bore quiet witness to a new ritual, an unspoken game between Sharon and Sid. Every afternoon, after the final bell and with books tucked beneath their arms, they would walk home together at a lingering pace, their teasing threading through the diverse, distracted chatter of the study class. They never spoke inside those classroom walls, their act so artfully natural that even the sharpest students found nothing odd in their silence. Yet outside, every smile, every stray glance, and every playful nudge stitched Sid ever deeper into Sharon's daily world.
On the side, Sia watched. She picked up every exchanged look, every hidden smile, her longing crystallizing into something hard and bright. She never said a word, but inside, something began to ache, a twisting, secret hope that perhaps the tides were about to turn in her favor.
Then, suddenly, Sid stopped coming.
At first, Sharon rationalized away his absence. Maybe he was unwell, caught up with school or family, or simply needed a break. But days trickled into weeks, and there was no Sid at the desk beside hers—no after-class walks, no teasing. Each day, his absence grew heavier. She caught herself waiting to see if someone would mention him, but no one did. This time, she refused to ask after him; a strange pride, or maybe self-protection, kept her silent. Beneath the surface, disappointment settled in like a dull ache, blooming into the quiet suspicion that he had lost interest. She resolved to do the same; she would stop letting her mind wander the streets they used to walk together.
It was then that Sia felt lightning a secret relief humming through her, the hope that maybe Sid's disappearance meant a fresh start for her silent wishes.
Meanwhile, Sid's world was trapped in a blur of school and responsibilities. He missed Sharon fiercely, her laughter and quick retorts circling in his mind, carving out a space in his day that nothing else could fill. Despite his longing, his absence from the study class wasn't a choice; it was a necessity. Still, he kept replaying their routines, hoping she wouldn't easily forget him.
Sharon's efforts at suppression worked outwardly; she was cheerful and busy, conversations flowing with everyone but Sid, her laughter returning to its easy brightness. Inwardly, her heart was quieter, resolving not to care.
But the universe is fond of chance encounters.
One evening, Sharon accompanied her father to the bus station to pick up her uncle. They sat idling at a long traffic light when, through the jumble of autorickshaws and buses, Sharon's eyes landed on a familiar figure, a flash of navy uniform and unruly hair pressed against a bus window. Sid.
He was laughing with a girl beside him, oblivious to Sharon at first. A familiar knot of anger twisted inside her, a sharp mix of betrayal and sadness. He left me for someone else, she thought with a sting that almost made her turn away. At the same time, with her father next to her, she felt a nervous shyness, as if her inner world was suddenly exposed by the city's glare.
As if sensing her gaze in the crowd, Sid's head shot up. His whole face lit with unmistakable happiness as he spotted her through the traffic's chaos. Without a second's hesitation, he shoved his head and arm out the window, grinning, waving, almost falling out as the bus began to roll ahead. For a moment, Sharon's pulse stopped in panic and marvel, terrified he'd get hurt, yet caught between laughter and relief at seeing him still react to her, even from a distance.
Their vehicles pulled away in opposite directions. Sharon sat, heart clattering against her ribs, not daring to look back for fear her father would notice the rush of emotion in her expression. Yet as the city carried them both onward, something inside her shifted, opening quietly toward Sid. Unmistakably, against all her best intentions, she realized her feelings had softened into hope, her anger replaced by something thrilling and sweet, a warmth growing, softly, despite everything.
In the heavy evening air, with the world's noise pressing around her, Sharon knew: this was no longer just a chapter of longing or annoyance. In a single, luminous moment, a wave across crowded streets, a reckless grin in traffic, her feelings for Sid tipped toward love.