Chapter 2: After School Conversations

The cafeteria was buzzing with noise—clattering trays, laughter, and the occasional shout from the basketball team—but Winter’s attention stayed glued to his phone. A single notification lit up the screen: Scar.

Scar: You survived today’s math class? 😏

Winter: Barely. I’m convinced Mr. Rao is plotting my downfall.

Scar: 😂 Nah, he just hates that you doodle on your notes.

Winter chuckled, glancing at the messy spirals and tiny dragons sketched along the margins of his notebook. He couldn’t help himself—math was boring, and drawing kept him sane.

After school, Winter waited under the old banyan tree near the library, pretending to scroll through social media. His friends had already left for their sports practice, but Scar had promised to drop by.

Minutes passed. The late-afternoon sun cast golden stripes across the courtyard. Just as Winter was about to leave, his phone vibrated again.

Scar: Sorry! Got held up by the science teacher. Be there in 3.

Winter: You’re forgiven… but only because I need your brain to survive algebra 😩

Three minutes later, footsteps approached. Winter looked up, expecting—he wasn’t sure what. But Scar didn’t give much away. Bag slung casually over one shoulder, voice calm, face hidden partly by the low sun, Scar dropped onto the bench beside him like they’d done this a thousand times.

They went through the homework together, but Winter found it impossible to focus. Scar’s handwriting was precise, their explanations clear—but Winter’s thoughts kept drifting. He noticed the way Scar tilted their head while thinking, the quick grin after a joke, the quiet patience.

When Scar leaned over to point at a problem, Winter felt his heartbeat pick up. It was ridiculous—Scar was supposed to be just a friend. Or at least, that’s what Winter kept telling himself.

A breeze swept through, rustling the papers. One sheet flew off the bench. Both of them reached for it at the same time, fingers brushing for the briefest moment. Winter froze.

Scar smirked.

Scar: Careful, Winter. You’re gonna lose all your hard work.

Winter: Y-yeah… can’t let that happen.

They continued working, but the air felt different—charged, somehow.

As the sun dipped lower, Scar packed their things.

Scar: Same time tomorrow? You need all the help you can get. 😉

Winter: Rude… but yes. Thanks, Scar. Seriously.

Walking home, Winter replayed every detail in his head. The brush of fingers. The teasing grin. The way his chest had tightened.

He pulled out his phone one more time.

Winter: Thanks again today. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Scar: You’d probably fail math and draw more dragons. 😎

Winter: True… but I’d miss this.