1.The Girl Across the Road

Noah’s POV

The sun in our village always rose slow, like it had nowhere else to be. The smell of wet soil, the sound of roosters, and the faraway bell from the old church that was my alarm every morning.

From our small house, I could see the bus stop across the road. It wasn’t just a stop. It was the heart of our little village a place where people met, laughed, shared gossip, said their goodbyes, and sometimes, unknowingly, began new chapters of their lives.

And that’s where I first saw her.

Elara .

She wasn’t a stranger, not really. I had seen her once or twice before, walking with her family to church on Sundays. But that morning, something about her caught my attention differently.

It happened because of our brothers.

My little brother, Aaron, was in first standard, just like her brother, Liam. Those two were inseparable. Every morning, they’d meet at the bus stop, laughing about things that probably made no sense to anyone but them. Sometimes, I’d hear Aaron’s giggles through the open window, his tiny backpack bouncing behind him as he ran to meet Liam.

And that’s when I noticed her standing beside them Elara , holding her brother’s hand, trying to fix his collar while smiling at his silly complaints.

She was my age, maybe just a few months older, but she had joined school early. Her family had decided that way so her cousin Caleb, her father’s elder brother’s son, could look after her. Their houses stood side by side, right across from ours.

Elara had this kind of warmth that stood out even in the early morning chill. Her long curly brown hair danced lightly in the wind, and her uniform always looked neat, almost glowing under the sun. She had this calmness like the world never managed to rush her.

We lived just opposite sides of the road, but our families couldn’t be more different.

My home was quiet, not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the heavy, suffocating one. My mother was strict, always worrying about what others thought. She didn’t like us talking too much with the neighbors, always saying, “People bring problems, Noah. Keep distance.” My father barely spoke at all. Most days, he left early and came back late, tired and silent.

Our house was neat, but cold like everything inside it was in order except the people.

Across the road, though, everything felt different. Elara ’s home was always filled with laughter. Her mom had the warmest voice; you could hear her singing while hanging clothes on the line. Her dad worked hard but always had time to play with Liam or help Caleb fix his bicycle. They were a family that talked, laughed, argued, then laughed again something I couldn’t even imagine in my own house.

Maybe that’s what first drew me toward her the kind of warmth that felt like sunlight after a long monsoon.

One day, my best friend Ethan called me from next door. He lived with his parents and his older brother Caleb, the same one who was Elara ’s cousin. I often went there not just for Ethan, but because his home felt lively, like I could breathe a little easier there.

That afternoon, I walked in, and there she was Elara , sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping Liam with his homework while teasing Caleb for being messy.

When she looked up and saw me, she smiled that same small, kind smile I’d seen from across the road.

“Hey, you live near our house, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to sound awkward. “Opposite your stop.”

She laughed softly. “I thought so. My brother talks about Aaron all the time. Says he’s his best friend.”

I smiled too. “He says the same about Liam.”

From that day, things began to change.

At first, it was just little things shared jokes, small talks when we met at the stop, teasing our brothers for fighting over marbles. Then it became part of our everyday routine. We’d walk to the shop with Ethan, sometimes help Caleb with schoolwork, sometimes sit outside talking about random things school, dreams, even silly stuff like which ice cream flavor was the best.

There was something about Elara ’s presence. It was calm, steady, like she didn’t even have to try. Even her silence felt comfortable.

I didn’t understand what it was then. Maybe comfort. Maybe something deeper. Maybe both.

Years slipped by quietly like that the same village, the same roads, the same people. But somewhere along the way, things started to shift.

When we reached high school, Elara ’s world widened. She made new friends, started joining events, and that’s when Ryan entered the picture.

Ryan was one of those guys everyone liked confident, kind, always surrounded by people. I noticed how Elara started smiling more when he was around, how she’d look for him in the crowd, how she blushed when someone teased them.

And then, it happened she told me they were together.

She was glowing that day, eyes sparkling, voice full of something close to excitement. And I… smiled. I smiled and said I was happy for her.

But that night, I couldn’t sleep. It felt like someone had quietly taken away a piece of my heart and left me pretending I didn’t notice.

She was still my best friend, though. She’d tell me everything about Ryan’s jokes, how they walked home together, how she thought it was love.

I listened. I nodded. I lied.

Because every word she said about him made something ache deeper inside me.

But fate, in its strange way, never forgets to twist the story.

A few months later, everything changed. Ryan started liking Alina, Elara ’s best friend. And instead of hating him, Elara helped them get together.

That’s just who she was pure, kind, and maybe too forgiving for her own good.

After that, she became quieter. She still smiled, but it was softer, smaller, like she was saving pieces of herself just to keep going.

I started staying closer to her again not because I wanted her to notice me, but because I couldn’t stand seeing her fade.

We’d walk together after school, sometimes with our brothers tagging along, sometimes just the two of us. We talked about everything our families, our dreams, even our fears.

One rainy evening, as we were walking back, she almost slipped on the wet road. Instinctively, I reached out and caught her hand.

Her hand was cold, soft, trembling slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Neither did I.

That small touch said more than words could.

It wasn’t a confession. It wasn’t planned. It was just… something real. Something that made my heartbeat feel too loud, too fast.

After that day, something changed between us quietly, naturally. We started finding reasons to stay close, to laugh longer, to walk slower.

And somewhere between the shared notes, the teasing, the small fights, and the silences that said everything I knew.

I had fallen for her.

But I didn’t tell her. Not yet.

Because sometimes silence feels safer than truth.

Still, I knew one day I’d tell her.

Maybe under the rain.

Maybe when we walk home after school.