CHAPTER- 2 The Friend

Summer settled in like it always does. Heavy. Slow. The kind of heat that makes you move less and dream more.

Ayan went to the ground every evening. Not sometimes. Every day. Like it was his job. Amma would make snacks and I would go call him. Not always. Maybe three times a week. The other days she sent the neighbor's kid or just shouted from the balcony until he heard.

But when I went, I saw Veer.

Not that we talked. We didn't. He would be at his pitch, I would be on my wall, and sometimes our eyes would meet. Just for a second. Then I would look at the neem trees or my phone or anything else. He would go back to his game. That was it. A nod sometimes. A half-smile if he was close enough. Nothing that meant anything.

This went on for days. Then weeks. The green mangoes turned yellow. The crows stopped gathering in the neem trees and moved to the banyan near the temple. Summer was half-over and I hadn't done anything worth remembering.

Then one evening, everything changed.

I walked to the ground slower than usual. Amma had made mirchi bajji and my fingers still smelled of chili. I was thinking about nothing, humming some song from the radio, when I saw her.

A girl on the wall. Not me. Someone else. Sitting with her legs dangling, her shadow falling on the dust.

I walked closer. She looked up.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," she said back.

I stood there for a moment. The wall was long enough for two people. I sat down a little away from her, leaving space between us.

"You're waiting for someone too?" she asked.

"My brother," I said. "He plays there."

I pointed. She followed my finger and smiled.

"Mine too. Ram. The one in the yellow shirt."

I looked. The boy in the yellow shirt was Ayan's friend. I had seen them together.

"I'm Maya," she said, sliding over a little. "Which school do you go to?"

"St. Mary's," I said.

Her eyes lit up. "Me too! Which class?"

"Eleventh. Section B."

"No way," she said, laughing. "I'm Eleventh A. Same class, different section."

I looked at her properly then. She had small eyes and a nose that turned up slightly at the end. She was pretty in a quiet way.

"I thought I saw you," she said. "In the corridor near the library. You carry a blue water bottle."

I stared at her. "You noticed that?"

"I notice people," she said simply. "I thought you looked familiar. Now I know why."

We smiled at each other. That click. That small spark when a stranger becomes someone you might know.

"I've seen you too," I said. This time it wasn't a lie. Maybe I had. In assemblies, in corridors. We just never had a reason to talk.

We sat there in silence for a while. It wasn't uncomfortable. The game went on. Ayan hit a four and shouted something. Ram—her brother—threw the ball back with more force than needed.

"Your brother is good," Maya said.

"Yours too."

"They're friends, I think," she said. "Ram talks about Ayan sometimes. At dinner."

"Ayan never talks about anyone at dinner," I said. "He just eats."

Maya laughed. It was a nice laugh. Not loud, not careful. Just real.

"Ram too," she said. "Boys, no?"

"Boys," I agreed.

We watched the game. The sun started going down, turning everything orange. I realized I had forgotten to feel bored.

"Do you come every day?" Maya asked.

"Sometimes. You?"

"First time. Amma said I should get out of the house. I was reading too much, she said. Like that's a problem."

"What are you reading?"

"Some novel. Love story. You?"

"Not love stories," I said quickly. Too quickly. She looked at me, curious.

"Why not?"

I didn't have an answer. I still don't. I just knew they felt far away from my life. Like stories about people who lived in bigger cities, who had bigger feelings. Not girls like me who sat on walls waiting for brothers.

"Too much drama," I said finally.

Maya smiled like she didn't believe me. But she didn't push.

Ayan and Ram walked toward us together, sweaty and happy, already arguing about some ball that was or wasn't a six. I stood up. Maya stood up too.

"Tomorrow?" she asked.

"Maybe," I said.

"I'll be here," she said. "Same time. If you want."

She said it casually. Like it didn't matter either way. But I heard something else in it. An invitation.

"Maybe," I said again. But I was already thinking about what to wear.

We walked home in opposite directions. Ayan talked about the game the whole way. I didn't listen. I was thinking about Maya. About how easy it had been. About how I had made a new friend.

A real friend. Maybe.

I couldn't wait for tomorrow.

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