Over the next three days, Aarav turned Kavya Sharma into an experiment.
He observed her. Analyzed her. Tried every method he could think of to crack open the silence surrounding her mind.
Nothing worked.
He tried sitting close to her in class. The closer he got, the louder everyone else's thoughts became—but hers remained a void. A black hole where sound went to die.
He tried touching her. Casually. An accidental brush of hands when passing papers, a tap on the shoulder to get her attention. Physical contact usually amplified his ability, let him hear deeper, clearer.
With Kavya?
Nothing.
He tried staring at her. Intensely. Hoping that if he focused hard enough, he might break through whatever wall she had built.
She stared back.
Unblinking.
Unreadable.
And then she smiled.
That smile was driving him insane.
By the fourth day, Rohan had noticed.
"Dude, you're obsessed."
"I'm not obsessed."
"You followed her to the library yesterday."
"I was returning a book."
"You don't read books."
"I'm expanding my horizons."
Rohan gave him a long, hard look. His thoughts were loud and clear: "—something is wrong with him. Something changed. And it started the moment that new girl showed up—"
"You don't even know her," Rohan said.
"I know."
"So why do you care?"
Aarav didn't have an answer. Or rather, he had an answer, but he couldn't say it out loud. Because I can't read her mind. Because she's the first person in sixteen years who I can't see through. Because she makes me feel blind. And I hate it. And I love it. And I don't know which one is true.
"I just think she's interesting," he said.
Rohan snorted. "Interesting. Right."
Aarav found Kavya in the library after school, sitting alone at a table in the back corner. The afternoon light slanted through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. She was reading a book—something thick and worn, with a cracked spine.
He sat down across from her.
She didn't look up.
"You're following me," she said. Not a question.
"I'm observing you."
"Same thing."
"Different intentions."
Now she looked up. Those brown eyes. Calm. Deep. Like a lake at midnight.
"And what are your intentions, Aarav Malhotra?"
Hearing his full name from her lips felt strange. Intimate. Like she had tasted each syllable before spitting it out.
"I want to understand you," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I can't."
She closed her book. Set it down on the table. Leaned back in her chair and studied him with an expression he couldn't decipher.
"Most people," she said slowly, "would be relieved that they can't understand someone. It means less work. Less complication. Less risk."
"Most people aren't me."
"No," she agreed. "They aren't."
A silence fell between them. Not an uncomfortable silence—Aarav was used to silences, he created them wherever he went—but a strange one. A silence that felt alive. Like something was breathing in the space between their words.
He tried again.
Tried to push past her defenses.
Tried to hear just one thought. One whisper. One fragment of her inner world.
Nothing.
But—
Wait.
Was that... something?
A flicker. A shadow. A whisper so faint he almost missed it.
"—careful—"
And then nothing.
Aarav's heart slammed against his ribs.
"What did you just think?" he demanded.
Kavya's eyes widened. Just a fraction. Just for a second. And then her face smoothed back into that calm, unreadable mask.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You thought something. Just now. I heard—"
"You heard what?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it.
Because he realized
He hadn't heard it.
Not really.
It was more like... he had felt it. A single word, pressing against the inside of his skull like a moth against a windowpane.
Careful.
But careful about what?
About him?
Or about her?
Kavya stood up. Picked up her book. Slipped it into her bag.
"I have to go," she said.
"Wait—"
"Aarav." She looked at him. And for the first time, he saw something behind her eyes. Something that looked almost like fear. "Some questions don't have answers. And some people... are better left alone."
She walked away.
He didn't follow.
But he sat in that library for a long time after she left, staring at the empty chair across from him, and wondering why a girl with no thoughts had just told him to be careful.