From the day Aanya borrowed my pen, she became part of my routine.
Every morning, she would walk into class a little unsure, looking for her seat like the room might have changed overnight. And every morning, she would turn back once, just to check if I was there behind her.
It felt… nice.
Like being noticed without trying.
One day, our English teacher announced, Pair up for the project.
Before I could even think, Aanya turned around.
Rohan… will you be my partner?
I nodded too fast. Yeah. Sure.
We spent our library periods together after that. She read slowly, carefully, like words mattered. I mostly pretended to read and secretly watched her underline sentences.
You don't talk much in class, I said once.
She smiled shyly. I'm better with paper than people.
What do you write?
She hesitated, then pulled out a folded page from her notebook.
A poem. About a girl who felt invisible.
It's good, I said honestly. Really good.
Her eyes widened. You think so?
I know so.
After that, she started sharing more.
Her old school.
Her fear of failing.
Her parents' expectations.
And I told her about mine—how I pretended to be confident, how I hated math, how I didn't know what I wanted to become.
Our friendship grew in small ways.
Sharing lunch when she forgot hers.
Saving her a seat during assembly.
Passing notes when class felt too long.
One afternoon, it rained. Hard.
The playground turned into a mirror of grey sky.
We stood near the corridor, watching.
I used to think new beginnings were scary, she said. But maybe they're just… unknown.
Unknown can be good, I said. Like surprise tests.
She laughed. A real laugh this time.
Not shy. Not small.
Bright.
That laugh stayed with me all evening.
Later that week, someone teased us.
Are you two dating?
She panicked. I didn't answer.
We're just friends, she said quickly.
Just friends.
The words were light…
But they landed heavy in my chest.
Still, I smiled. Yeah. Just friends.
That night, I found the pen in my bag.
The same pen she had borrowed on the first day.
I held it and thought about her.
How a simple Can I borrow a pen?
had turned into shared lunches, poems, and rainy corridors.
Friendship, I realized,
was the beginning of something dangerous.
Because when you start caring…
You don't notice when it becomes love.