Time went by effortlessly, like leaves turning on their own.
Weeks turned into months, and before we knew it, half of the school year had gone by.
Krishanu and Jaanvi were almost always together now.
They chatted daily — while walking home, via messages, at tuition, occasionally even when faking study. Whenever she laughed out loud, his entire face glowed.
And this time, rather than teasing him, we were just… content for him.
"Come on, bro, just admit it already," one of us chimed in.
"She already likes you, anyone can tell."
Even I nodded. "If you don't make a move soon, she'll begin to think you don't like her."
Krishanu sighed, lost in thought. "You think so?"
"Yes," we all said together.
He smiled nervously, but there was something resolute in his eyes that day — like he had decided.
---
The sky was golden-orange that night. The neighborhood rang softly in the background with the sound of children at play, dogs yapping, and far-away traffic. Krishanu informed me he was going for a walk — but we both knew what he was actually doing.
Later, he reported back to me.
He met Jaanvi around the park, sitting on the low wall by the gate, fingering her phone. She looked up, startled but smiling.
"Hey, what's up?"
Krishanu's heart must have beaten louder than the rickshaws whizzing by.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound emerged. He remained stockstill for a few seconds, his fists bunched up, recalling what he'd rehearsed in his mind a hundred times.
"Jaanvi," he finally managed to say.
She leaned her head to one side. "Yeah?"
He gazed at her directly and exclaimed, "I like you!"
Just like that — no lead-up, no warning, no melodramatic pause.
For a second, she didn't respond. Then she opened her eyes, smiling gently… before screaming,
"YOU TOOK THIS LONG TO SAY THAT?!"
Krishanu froze. "W–what?"
She laughed, getting up and rapping his forehead.
"Do you have any idea how long I was waiting for you to say it?"
He just stood there, agog, words lost.
His heart was racing so fast it threatened to burst out of his chest.
And then it struck him — she said yes.
She agreed. Like that.
---
He didn't even know how he felt — happy, relieved, shocked — possibly all three simultaneously.
He just stuttered something like, "Fine—I mean—thank you—uh—bye!"
And then… he bolted.
Yes, actually ran.
Along the street, past the tea vendor, home in a straight line like his very existence depended on it.
Behind him, Jaanvi's voice rang out through the street.
"HEY! Where are you going, idiot?!"
But he didn't glance back. His face was flushed, his heart racing, and his mind empty.
---
He didn't see her for the next two days.
He didn't text. Didn't phone.
He claimed he "had to process" but in reality, he was freaking out.
He told us afterwards, beneath the banyan tree outside school, "I think I messed up.
I struggled not to laugh. "You confessed and she agreed. How did you manage to screw that up?"
"I ran away!" he moaned. "Who does that?"
We all erupted into laughter, but secretly, we knew this was huge for him.
He wasn't merely the brilliant, reserved kid anymore. He was *in it — the whole mess of first love.
---
Over that weekend, he finally mustered the courage to go meet her once more.
When he caught sight of her from afar, his palms were sweaty.
But she smiled as soon as she saw him and said,
"So… are you finished running?"
He chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah. Sorry."
She smiled. "You better be."
And like that, everything was okay again — better than okay, perhaps.
Because this time, they weren't just friends.
They were something more.
---
I look back now, and I still grin at that incarnation of Krishanu — red-faced, speechless, but radiating like the world had finally begun to compute.
That was the night the "golden boy" discovered his first true happiness — the kind you don't prepare for, the kind that slaps you before you know it's even begun.
---
To be continued.
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