When You Look at Me

Chapter 3: The Notebook

Morning sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting golden stripes across the desks. Sia sat at the back, feigning interest in the lecture while her mind kept drifting back to the black notebook in her bag. Aarav’s notebook. His photo. His secret.

She had hardly slept the night before, a mix of guilt and curiosity swirling within her. Why was that photo tucked away? And why did his smile in it seem so heartbreakingly different from the serious boy she knew now?

When class ended, she quickly packed her bag and scanned the corridor. There he was, by the notice board, surrounded by a few students asking him about project details. His tone was calm and polite, just distant enough to make them step back after receiving their answers.

Sia took a deep breath and approached him. “Hey, Aarav.”

He turned, a hint of surprise on his face. “Sia.”

She held out the notebook. “You left this in the library yesterday.”

His eyes flicked to it, and for a moment, she sensed something—perhaps hesitation or fear. He took it gently, their fingers brushing for a brief moment.

“Thanks.”

“That’s it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “No dramatic gasp or heartfelt thank-you?”

He smiled slightly. “I don’t do drama.”

“Clearly,” she said with a half-grin. “You’d probably be allergic to it if it were a perfume.”

He chuckled—a low, genuine sound that surprised her. It was the first time she had heard him laugh, and it was unexpectedly nice.

---

They walked together toward the campus garden, books in hand. Sia couldn’t help but ask, “So… was that photo inside of your mom?”

Aarav stopped mid-step, his grip on the notebook tightening.

After a pause, he replied quietly, “Yeah. She passed away two years ago.”

Sia’s teasing demeanor vanished instantly. “Oh. I—I’m sorry.”

He nodded once, his gaze fixed ahead. “She used to say I’d change the world one day. I guess I’ve just been trying to prove her right.”

There was something so raw in his voice—not exactly sadness, but a deep ache.

Not knowing what to say, Sia walked beside him in silence, letting the wind fill the space between them.

After a minute, she smiled softly. “She must’ve been really proud. I mean, look at you—top of the class, college star, certified perfectionist.”

He glanced at her, a faint smile appearing. “Certified troublemaker, more like.”

“Excuse me? That’s your title. I’m the sunshine of this college.”

“Sunshine?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she said proudly. “I make people smile. I even made you laugh today. Big achievement.”

He actually laughed again—a small but genuine sound. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Persistent is my middle name,” she replied. “Actually, no, it’s not. But it should be.”

---

They found a bench under a neem tree. Aarav sat down and opened his notebook. Sia leaned in, curious. “What do you even write in that thing?”

He looked at her. “Plans. Goals. Things I want to fix.”

She tilted her head. “You write goals in a notebook?”

“Yes.”

“Like… serious ones?”

“Yes.”

She smirked. “Let me guess—‘Rule the world,’ ‘Get a 10.0 GPA,’ and ‘Avoid talking to Sia Rao.’”

He gave her a look. “You’re close.”

“Ha! I knew it.”

He closed the notebook with a soft thud. “You’re strange.”

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me,” she grinned.

Aarav shook his head, but his expression softened. “You talk too much.”

“And you talk too little,” she shot back. “That’s why we’re a perfect match.”

For a moment, they both froze. The words lingered in the air—playful yet charged. Sia’s cheeks flushed, and Aarav looked away, pretending to check his watch.

“Anyway,” she said quickly, “we should start working on our presentation slides soon.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

But even as they resumed discussing their project, the atmosphere between them felt different—lighter, closer.

---

Later that evening, when Sia returned to her hostel, she received a text.

📩 Aarav: Thanks again. For the notebook.

📩 Sia: No problem! You owe me coffee now.

📩 Aarav: Is that how this works?

📩 Sia: Absolutely. One coffee \= one thank-you.

📩 Aarav: Fine. Tomorrow at 5. Café Moonlight.

She stared at her screen, grinning so widely that her roommate threw a pillow at her. “Who’s making you blush like that, huh?”

Sia laughed, hugging the pillow. “Just… someone who finally texted back.”