Meher didn't come back that night.
She didn't message.
She didn't read the group texts.
Pihu tried calling. No answer.
Nandini stared at the door longer than she read her book.
Ananya lay on her bed, eyes on the ceiling.
She replayed every line.
Every tone.
Every moment she hadn't noticed.
Maybe she had been disappearing.
Not from the room.
From the girls.
The next morning, Meher's bed was untouched.
Her fairy lights were off.
She didn't come to college.
She didn't come to rehearsal.
"She's avoiding," Pihu whispered.
"She's hurting," Nandini corrected.
Ananya didn't speak.
She couldn't decide which hurt more.
Being misunderstood.
Or realizing she might not be.
That afternoon, Ananya skipped a meeting for the first time.
She took an auto to Juhu without knowing why.
She walked until her legs slowed her thoughts.
She found Meher sitting near the rocks, sunglasses on, knees pulled in.
Ananya stood behind her.
Didn't speak immediately.
Then, quietly, "I didn't want to leave you behind."
Meher didn't turn.
"I just didn't know how to carry you while I was learning to carry myself."
Meher's jaw tightened.
"I don't hate you," she said. "I hate what I feel around you."
Ananya sat beside her.
"I don't want to be the friend you compete with," she said. "I want to be the one you rest with."
Meher's sunglasses came off.
Her eyes were wet.
"I don't know how to not be the loudest girl," she whispered. "And suddenly I'm not."
Ananya breathed in the sea air.
"Then don't be loud," she said. "Be here."
They sat.
Waves did what words couldn't.
After a long time, Meher leaned her head back against the rocks.
"Promise me," she said, "you won't move so fast that we can't walk with you."
Ananya nodded. "Promise me you won't shrink just because I'm growing."
Meher looked at her.
Then, finally, she reached for Ananya's hand.
Not a solution.
But a return.