How Can I Tell Him That You Are Mine

Sana and the Bicycle Boy

Sana stepped out through the large iron gate of her school. A heavy bag hung from her shoulder, and a light sweat glistened on her forehead. The golden hue of the afternoon sun bathed her skin as her closest friend, Shelly, walked beside her.

Sana smiled and asked,

“Shelly, did you finish yesterday’s homework? Madam was really angry today!”

Shelly, fixing her bun, replied,

“Nope! I didn’t. I was thinking I’d come over to your place tonight and we could finish it together. You’ll help, won’t you?”

The two friends laughed and walked along the dirt road in front of the school. The sound of van bells rang out, kids with schoolbags ran around, and the smell of samosas and spicy puffed rice drifted in from nearby shops.

Sana glanced at the sky and smiled softly.

“If only it rained right now! Wouldn’t it feel wonderful to walk home in the rain?”

Shelly teased,

“If it rains, your new shoes will be ruined!”

They both burst into laughter.

As they were walking and chatting, a boy suddenly came speeding toward them on a bicycle. In a rush, he accidentally bumped into Sana. She stumbled and fell to the ground, and the boy also fell off his cycle.

Sana’s bag had been slightly unzipped—books and notebooks scattered all over the ground.

Though the boy had fallen too, he quickly scrambled up, sweating and anxious. He started gathering Sana’s books and putting them back in her bag.

“I’m so sorry! I couldn’t see properly... I lost my glasses… your books…”

Sana sat on the ground, rubbing her elbow, eyes blazing with anger.

“Can’t you see where you’re going? What kind of cycling is that?!”

The boy finished packing her books and handed her the bag.

“I’m really sorry… I lost my glasses and couldn’t see clearly. I didn’t mean to… please forgive me.”

Sana snatched the bag from his hands and scowled.

“Forget it. I don’t need your sympathy.”

Brushing off the dust, she stood up and marched off in anger. Shelly looked at the boy with a bit of sympathy and hurried after her friend.

The boy, still crouched on the ground, found his glasses and put them on. Looking down, he whispered,

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this…”

In the fading afternoon light, he remained silently standing.

---

Sana dragged Shelly along the road angrily. The boy looked at them one last time and sighed, then walked over to his bicycle. Just then, he noticed something — a book was still lying on the ground. It was Sana’s Bengali grammar book.

He quickly picked it up. On the cover, her name was written:

"Sana Roy, Class 9."

Brushing off the dust, he murmured,

“This book… I have to return it… but how?”

He stood there for a moment, staring at the book with a strange expression — a mix of guilt and embarrassment.

As the afternoon light dimmed and shop lights began to flicker on, the boy stood quietly, thinking —

“I must return the book…”

---

Sana finally reached home, still fuming. She pushed the door open roughly and stepped inside.

Her mother called from the kitchen,

“Sana, why are you slamming the door? What happened?”

Throwing her bag onto the bed, Sana grumbled,

“Ma, today some idiot crashed into me with his bicycle! He couldn’t even see properly! I fell down, and all my books scattered.”

Her mother turned down the gas flame and came out.

“Oh no! Weren’t you watching the road? Are you hurt?”

Sana, sitting on the bed and kicking her legs angrily, replied,

“No, I’m not hurt… But the boy was so weird! Wearing glasses, but can’t even see properly! At least he put all my books back in the bag, but... ugh! Don’t even ask, I’m still so mad!”

She opened her bag to take out the books and suddenly froze.

“Ma… my Bengali grammar book is missing! That’s the most important one!”

Her mother looked surprised.

“Did you drop it somewhere?”

Sana’s eyes widened.

“It must’ve fallen during that mess! Ugh… Madam is going to scold me tomorrow!”

She brushed the hair off her face and looked out the window, feeling anxious. Just then, a shadow appeared on the road — the same boy, pushing his bicycle, holding that very Bengali grammar book in his hand.

---

The next morning, Sana and Shelly were walking to school in their clean uniforms, hair neatly tied. Sana still looked visibly annoyed.

Shelly was chatting when she suddenly stopped. She spotted a boy standing on the roadside — the same one who had crashed into Sana the day before.

She whispered,

“Sana, look! That boy… he’s standing by the road…”

Sana frowned.

“I don’t want to see him again! Come on, let’s take the other side.”

She pulled Shelly’s hand and crossed the road, not even glancing at the boy. He didn’t move — just silently watched her, still holding the Bengali grammar book.

---

After school, Sana and Shelly were walking home, tired. The sun was low, and a soft breeze blew through the street.

At a corner, the boy appeared again — standing quietly, holding the Bengali grammar book.

As soon as Sana saw him, her face hardened. She raised her voice angrily,

“Hey! Are you following us? You’ve got some nerve!”

The boy raised both hands quickly,

“No, no! I’m not following you! Please believe me… I just… wanted to return your book!”

He extended the book toward her.

Sana stared at him for a moment, then took the book with a sigh.

“Fine… You didn’t do anything heroic. Returning the book was your responsibility.”

She shoved the book into her bag and stomped away. Shelly gave the boy a kind smile and ran after Sana.

The boy stood there alone in the soft light of the setting sun, watching them until they disappeared.