Chapter 4: After School, Before Everything Else
After school ended, days stopped having clear shapes. There was no bell to tell us when to sit, when to move, when to leave. Time felt loose, stretched, like it didn't know what to do with itself. I woke up late most mornings, not tired, just blank. The house felt the same, but I didn't. Something that had always been there quietly was missing now, and its absence was louder than any school noise.
I spent hours at my desk filling college forms, crossing out options, rewriting the same details again and again. Name, age, stream, address. Everything looked too final for someone who still felt unfinished. Bachelor of Arts made sense to me. Literature, history, subjects that asked questions instead of demanding answers. My parents didn't argue much, only exchanged quiet looks. Maybe they trusted me, or maybe they trusted time to fix what they couldn't understand.
Friends slowly drifted into their own routines. Shyam became busy with coaching classes. Aarav talked less, already sounding like someone who had mentally moved ahead. Group chats turned silent except for forwarded messages and old farewell photos. Everyone was stepping into something new, even if they pretended they weren't scared. It felt strange how easily people adjusted, while I stayed stuck between what was over and what hadn't started yet.
Nova stayed quiet. She replied sometimes, but the messages were short, careful, distant. No emojis, no extra questions, no late-night talks. Not rude, just controlled, like she was standing behind a glass wall. I told myself to respect that space. I told myself friendship meant patience. Still, every unread message felt heavier than it should have, like silence itself was saying something.
Some evenings, I walked without purpose. Same streets, same tea stall, same benches where younger school kids now sat laughing. I wondered if we ever looked that carefree or if memory just edits pain out. The world hadn't changed much, but my place in it felt uncertain.
At night, dreams returned. Not dramatic dreams, just strange ones. In one, I stood in the school corridor, but the walls were longer and the lights dimmer. I kept walking, hearing my footsteps echo, until I heard Nova's voice calling my name from behind a locked door. I reached for the handle and woke up before touching it. In another dream, I stood outside a college building with no name. Nova stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at me like she wanted to say something but couldn't. Every time I stepped forward, the distance stayed the same.
I woke up tired, not scared, just aware that something inside me was unsettled.
One afternoon, my phone rang. Nova's name flashed on the screen. I froze for a second before answering.
"Hello," I said.
"Hi," she replied. Her voice sounded normal, almost too normal.
"How are you?" she asked.
"I'm okay. You?"
"I'm fine."
Silence followed. Not awkward, just empty, like a road with no turns.
"I wanted to tell you," she said after a pause, "I got shortlisted for a non-medical program."
"That's really good," I said, and I meant it. "I knew you would."
"Thanks."
Another pause followed, longer this time.
"Sam," she said slowly, "about that day…"
My chest tightened. "Yes?"
She stopped herself. "Never mind. It's not the right time."
"When will it be?" I asked quietly.
"I don't know," she replied. "I just need you to trust me."
"I do," I said, without hesitation.
The call ended without a proper goodbye.
That night, the unknown number messaged again. It said she was trying to protect me. I stared at the screen, confused and irritated at the same time. Protect me from what. I typed nothing. No reply came after that.
Days passed with small responsibilities taking over. Document verification, photocopies, deadlines. Life slowly pushed forward even when my thoughts didn't. Somewhere inside, I felt paused, like I was waiting for a signal only I could hear.
One evening, while returning from the market, I passed by Nova's street. I hadn't planned it. My steps just slowed down. Her house lights were off except for one window upstairs. I stood there for a moment, then turned away, feeling foolish.
My phone vibrated.
Nova asked if I was near her house.
I replied yes, just passing by.
A few seconds later, she asked me to come inside.
Her house felt quieter than I remembered. She opened the door herself. No smile, no tension, just tired eyes. We sat in the living room under dim light. Her parents weren't home. Silence filled the space, but it didn't feel uncomfortable.
"You look exhausted," I said.
"So do you," she replied.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"I've been meaning to talk," she said finally, "but every time I try, the words don't come out right."
"You don't have to explain," I said. "I'm here as your friend."
She looked at me for a long time. "That's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because you stay," she said. "Even when things don't make sense."
I stayed quiet.
"There are things about me," she continued, "things I don't fully understand. Sometimes I feel watched. Sometimes I feel like my thoughts aren't entirely my own. And sometimes…" She stopped herself.
"Sometimes what?" I asked gently.
She shook her head. "I sound crazy."
"You don't," I said.
She stood up suddenly. "I need air."
We stepped onto the balcony. The street below was quiet. A streetlight flickered once, then steadied. I noticed her flinch.
"You see it too," she said.
"Yes," I replied.
She let out a dry laugh. "I thought it was just me."
Her phone rang. She checked the screen and went pale. She moved aside, speaking in a low voice. I watched her expressions change from confusion to fear. When she returned, her hands were shaking.
"I need you to go," she said.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I can't explain. Not now."
"Nova, if you're in trouble—"
"This is why I didn't want you to say anything that day," she interrupted. "Feelings connect people. And connections attract things."
"What things?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
I left with my mind spinning.
That night, sleep refused to come. The unknown number messaged again, saying I was getting closer to the truth. This time, I replied and asked what the truth was. The response came immediately, saying truth isn't given, it reveals itself when silence breaks.
My phone buzzed again. A message from Nova appeared. She said that if she disappeared for a while, I shouldn't look for her. My chest tightened. I typed back asking what she meant, but there was no reply.
Minutes later, another message came from the unknown number. It said this was my last warning.
I sat there staring at the screen, slowly realizing something that felt heavier than fear. This was never just about love. Whatever Nova was afraid of had finally noticed me, and I was already involved whether I wanted to be or not.