The more we talked, the more my heart ached to see him in real. His words, his laughter, the way he teased me—it wasn't enough anymore. I wanted to know how his smile looked when he said my name. I wanted to feel the warmth of his hand, not just imagine it.
One night, I whispered into the phone, "Can we meet? Just once?"
He hesitated. "Where?"
"At the guardhouse near my place. You can just come, I'll step out for a minute."
There was silence, then his voice, serious. "No. We can't risk it. Your brother has too many friends—even the security guard might know him. If anyone sees us, it's over."
I sighed, my heart heavy. "So we just... wait?"
"Yes," he said softly. "One day we'll meet properly. The right way."
Waiting became my biggest test.
But he didn't leave me alone in that wait. Through him, I gained new friends online—his school juniors. They weren't just names on a screen; they became part of my daily routine. They made me laugh when loneliness hit me hardest.
One girl, Thirsha, stood out the most. She was like my little spy, always updating me about him.
"Today, he was so distracted in class. I think he was thinking about you."
Another time, she giggled in a voice note, "Akka, he writes your name on his arm during school. He's gone crazy for you!"
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. My chest swelled with emotions I couldn't even name. I wanted to see it with my own eyes—the ink on his arm, the way he whispered my name.
At night, I would close my eyes and imagine. Him standing in front of me, taller than I thought, maybe shy, maybe bold. I imagined holding his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm, the warmth of his skin.
Was I crazy? Maybe. But love has no logic.
There was one difference between us I couldn't ignore—academics. I was good in school, always scoring well. He wasn't. He failed most subjects, sometimes skipping classes just to take his father for clinic checkups.
I worried. How will my parents ever accept this? A boy who fails exams, who doesn't have a future they'd be proud of?
But every Sunday, when I thought of him walking his father to the clinic faithfully, choosing his family over his own studies, my doubts disappeared.
How could I not love a boy like that?