Chapter -1 The Summer

You know how spring leaves? Not all at once. It slips away slowly, like when you're saying goodbye to a friend and you keep turning back to wave. The jacaranda trees still have some purple left. The amaltas still drops a few yellow flowers. But the air changes. It gets heavier. And then one morning you wake up and smell mangoes.

Not the sweet ripe ones. The green ones. The ones that make your mouth pucker just thinking about them. That's how summer arrives in our town. Not with an announcement. Just with a smell.

I was seventeen. I had just finished tenth class. Two months of nothing stretched ahead of me before eleventh started. Two months of no uniforms, no homework, no early mornings. I should have been happy. Instead, I was bored.

So bored that I was actually watching the TV serial my mother loved. Some woman crying about her mother-in-law. I wasn't really watching. I was just... there.

"Zara!"

I jumped.

"Go call your brother. Snacks are ready."

I dragged myself up. The floor was cool under my feet. Through the window, I could hear them—shouting, laughing, the sound of bat hitting ball. Ayan was at the municipal ground, same as every day.

I walked the three minutes to the ground. Found him behind the stumps, arguing with the batsman.

"Amma said now," I told him.

"Five minutes."

"Ayan—"

"Five minutes, Zara. We're almost done."

I sighed and sat on the boundary wall. The stone was warm from the sun. I watched the game for a while, but I don't understand cricket. I never have. So I looked around instead. The neem trees. The crows starting to gather. The dust in the air that turned everything golden at this hour.

That's when I saw him.

He was keeping wickets at the pitch next to ours. Crouched down, waiting. But the ball wasn't coming his way. The captain had moved the field or something. He was just... waiting. Spinning the ball in his fingers. Looking around.

His eyes found me.

He didn't look away. Just stood up and walked over.

"You go to St. Mary's?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Veer. Twelfth section B."

I knew that. Everyone knew the seniors. But I didn't say it.

"I'm Zara," I said. Then, because I felt stupid just standing there: "My brother plays here."

"I know," he said. "You're Ayan's sister."

He said it like it was a fact he'd known for a while. Not like he was surprised.

"Ayan!" I called out, turning away. "Let's go!"

My brother finally came, bat dragging behind him. He said something to Veer about tomorrow's game. I didn't listen. I just started walking.

"See you around, Zara," Veer said.

I waved without turning back.

At home, the mangoes were on the table. Green, hard, not ready yet. Amma cut them into slices and sprinkled salt and chili. I ate two pieces. Ayan ate five.

I didn't think about Veer again that evening. Not really. He was just a senior from school who knew my brother's name. That was all.

But summer had started. And summer has a way of making small things grow.

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