Episode:4- “The Unknown Girl”

Amaranta had spent the whole day replaying her failed “hi.” She had imagined the moment differently — a smile, a few words, maybe even a laugh shared. But he had simply walked past, completely oblivious. The reality stung, but she wasn’t ready to give up.

Later that night, scrolling through social media, she found him. Her heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t in her class — a year older, someone she barely knew — and yet here was a way to reach him. She stared at his profile, unsure what to do, when a message suddenly popped up on her screen.

“Who is this?”

Her fingers trembled. He didn’t know her at all. She had never even spoken to him properly. She typed carefully, “It’s Amaranta.”

A pause. She didn’t know what to say next. How could she convince him it was really her? How could she even start a conversation?

Desperate, she turned to her friend. “I don’t know what to reply,” she admitted. “Can you help me?”

Her friend, brimming with confidence, immediately took over. Messages flew out: “I always look at you 😏”.

Amaranta froze. “WHAT?! No! That’s… that’s not what I meant!” she hissed, snatching the phone back.

Her friend shrugged, unconcerned. “Relax. He’ll notice you now. Mission accomplished.”

Notice her, yes — but not in the way Amaranta had hoped.

Hours later, another message appeared:

“Let’s talk.”

Her heart jumped. He didn’t accuse her, didn’t question further — he just wanted to know who she really was. Curious. Cautious. Suspicious, but not angry.

Amaranta typed back carefully: “Okay. Lunchtime tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

Her stomach twisted. He wanted to talk. To meet the girl behind the messages. And she had no idea what she would say, how she would act, or if she could convince him she was real.

Her friend squealed beside her. “Yes! He wants to talk! This is your moment! You’ll do great!”

Amaranta gave a small smile, trying to feel confident, but nerves tangled with hope, making it hard to breathe. The truth was, one wrong word or awkward gesture could ruin everything.

That night, she opened her diary, staring at the blank page. Carefully, she wrote:

> “Tomorrow, he’ll finally talk to me at lunch. I don’t know what will happen… but maybe this is the beginning.”

She closed the diary softly, pressing it to her chest. Outside, the world was quiet, but inside, her heart pounded with anxious anticipation.

Tomorrow, she would step into the unknown — into the thrilling uncertainty of talking to someone who didn’t even know she existed, armed only with a little courage and the hope that words could bridge the distance.

The next day, the long-awaited lunchtime came, and it was finally time. Every second of the morning dragged by, each tick of the clock louder than the last. Amaranta could barely concentrate on her classes; her mind kept replaying the messages, imagining what he might look like, how he might react, and whether he’d even recognize her as the girl behind the texts.

She gripped her bag tightly, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Her friend gave her an encouraging nudge. “You’ve got this,” they whispered. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need.”

Amaranta nodded, though her stomach felt like a storm. The cafeteria seemed impossibly large as she walked through it, scanning for him. Every laugh, every movement of a taller figure made her heart skip. And then, in the middle of the crowded room, she spotted him — the boy from the messages — standing cautiously by a table, phone in hand, as if deciding whether to trust the upcoming meeting.

Tomorrow was here, but it felt like the entire world had shrunk to this moment, to this single lunch break, and the unknown conversation that could change everything.

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