We step out of the exam hall, and the summer heat hits us like a wall. The sun is blazing, making the ground almost too hot to walk on. Sweat beads on our foreheads as we search for shade near the canteen. The air is dry, and even the breeze feels warm. Everyone looks tired—not just from the paper, but from the heavy, lazy heat that wraps around the campus. Still, there's a strange comfort in it—the shared relief of finishing the exam and surviving another scorching summer day together.

Today was our Marketing Management paper. We come out of the exam center and start discussing the exam. then we receive a message from the college administration to submit our second-year college admission fees. We head to the office, but they tell us we can collect the slip after 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

I don't even expect to see him today. The last time I see him is a month ago.

My best friend and I stand near the canteen (in front of the Business Department).

Yesterday, I think I will never see him again, but fate..........

I see him coming from a distance, and then I tell Nancy. She looks at me and starts pointing at me.

He comes closer, and I pretend not to see him.

As he starts to walk past us, his friend looks at me and Nancy and says loudly, "Alex, you must be happy today." He says this loudly twice.

Nancy teases me.

Memories come back to me after seeing him..........

...****************...

My name is Rychal. I’m a BBA student, originally from a small village. I live in the hostel with my best friend, Nancy—we’ve been together since school, and honestly, I wouldn’t have made it this far without her.

People say I’m intelligent and calm, and maybe I am. I don’t speak much unless I need to. But I’m not as quiet as I seem—when something gets to me, I do speak up… sometimes a bit too sharply. I get angry easily, but it never lasts long.

I'm a little on the fuller side, with an oval-shaped face that softly frames her features. My medium-length hair falls naturally around my shoulders, simple and unpretentious. my friends say that my eyes are beautiful—calm, deep, and thoughtful—often revealing more than my words.

Nancy is my best friend—my constant since 11th grade. We studied together in school and have shared the same room in the hostel ever since. From school days to college, she’s been right by my side.

She has a round face framed by long, flowing hair that she often ties back when studying. Her small, sparkling eyes always light up with kindness, and her perfect body shape makes her stand out effortlessly. But it’s not just her looks that make her special—Nancy has the kindest heart. She cares deeply about me and everyone around her.

More than just a friend, she’s like family. My parents love her too; they treat her like their own daughter. We’re even in the same class now, and I can’t imagine this journey without her.

Nancy isn’t just important to me—she’s everything.....

In the Hostel Room

I sat quietly in the corner of our hostel room, my thoughts spiraling around him again. Did he ever recognize his fault? I wondered. Why did he respond so cruelly to me five months ago? The question still echoed in my mind, unanswered.

But despite the lingering thoughts, a strange calm settled over me. The exam was finally over, and I felt a little lighter. The next one wasn’t until June 12, giving me a bit of breathing space.

Tomorrow, Nancy and I would head back to our hometowns. We came from two different cities, and though we’d only been away a few months, it already felt like we’d built a world of memories together. I was going to miss her terribly.

Nancy, however, seemed more excited than I was. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and I knew why—because today, we saw Alex.

“He was looking at you when you ignored him,” she whispered with a smirk, nudging me playfully.

Now she couldn’t wait to share the whole story with our seniors—Arena and Gabriel. In the hostel, they were our only close friends. We told them everything, even the smallest, most trivial moments.

Arena was my cousin sister, kind and composed, while Gabriel, her roommate, had a calm intelligence about her. Both were science students—Arena in B.Sc. Medical and Gabriel in B.Sc. Non-Medical. Their room always felt like a place of comfort and laughter, a place where secrets were safe and stories were welcomed.

Tonight, one more story would find its way there.

..................

We were standing in line for food in the hostel mess when Arena turned toward Nancy with a curious smile.

“Nancy, why are you smiling like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nancy glanced at me, barely able to contain her excitement. “There’s an accident we want to share with you,” she said mysteriously.

Gabriel, standing beside Arena, leaned in with interest. “What kind of accident?”

We grinned at each other. “Guess,” we said in unison.

They tried—throwing out wild ideas, from something silly happening in class to a mess fight in the canteen—but none of their guesses were close.

“Okay, okay, here’s a hint,” I said, biting back a laugh.

Nancy nudged me. “It’s about a boy,” she added.

Arena's eyes lit up. “Wait… is it about Alex?”

We burst into laughter. “Yeah!”

They laughed too, shaking their heads as if they had known all along. We decided to save the full story for later, back in our room, where we always shared our little secrets and big feelings.

That night, we sat cross-legged on Arena and Gabriel’s floor, the soft hum of the hostel night around us. We told them everything—how we saw Alex earlier that day, and how Nancy swore he looked at me when I was pretending not to notice him.

They listened closely, smiling in a way that felt strangely reassuring.

“I don’t know why,” I said quietly, “but you both look happy.”

Arena touched my hand gently. “Maybe because this means he still thinks about you,” she said.

But it’s been five months,” I murmured, staring at the floor. “He never recognized his fault. Instead, he just… ignored me.”

Gabriel nodded solemnly. “Some people take time. But one day, he might realize what he did.”

I sighed. “I said sorry to him—so many times. But he blocked my number. Even Nancy tried to help…”

Nancy looked at me and gave a half-smile. “I still remember that winter morning. We were standing near the canteen… I saw Alex and pulled his jacket sleeve. I asked him to listen to you. But he just said he didn’t want to talk.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. The memory lingered in the air, raw and unfinished. But somehow, being with them—Nancy, Arena, Gabriel—made the pain a little softer.

Today, Nancy and I are going home for the holidays. It’s not forever—just a short break—but the goodbye still feels heavy.

We wake up early, while the hostel is still wrapped in sleepy silence. After a quick bath, we start packing. The room feels quieter than usual, as if it knows we’re leaving for a while. We fold our clothes, gather our notes, and zip up bags filled with more than just essentials—inside them, little moments from the last few weeks come along with us.

We rush down for breakfast, but we’re late. The first bus has already left.

The second bus arrives, full of students chatting and shuffling around with their bags. Nancy and I manage to find seats beside each other. We sit close—quiet, a little sleepy, a little thoughtful. The bus is stuffy with heat and noise, but we don’t mind.

It’s only a 50-minute ride, but when it ends, it feels like we’ve only just begun.

As the bus slows down near our stop, I look at Nancy and say, “Why so early? I don’t want to leave you yet.”

She smiles warmly and rubs my head gently. “We’ll meet on 11th June, don’t be sad. It’s just a few days.”

Our next buses—one to my hometown, the other to hers—are waiting nearby. We step off and head in separate directions. I climb into mine and take a seat.

As the engine starts, I turn to look back—just once.

Through the window, I spot her still standing—caught in the rush, unable to find a seat. She looks small in the crowd, but so familiar it makes my chest tighten.

My phone rings. It’s Papa. I tell him I’ll reach in about 50 minutes.

But when I reach my city, the connecting bus to my village is already packed and pulling away. I miss it. The next one won’t arrive for 40 minutes. I call home again and explain the delay. They tell me to take my time.

Finally, I arrive. The streets feel softer, the air calmer. My parents are waiting. We talk, laugh, share little stories. I feel safe here. Loved.

Tired from the travel, I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, it’s 8 p.m. I have dinner, then step out for a short walk. The night is peaceful. My family is already asleep.

The stars shimmer above like tiny promises, and the cool breeze feels like a quiet reminder that everything will fall back into place soon.

...****************...

 ON THE OTHER SIDE (NANCY'S HOUSE)

Nancy shifts on the bed and sighs. Her phone lights up. It's already past midnight.

She replays the moment again—the way Alex ignored Rychal, the way Rychal pretended not to see him but couldn't hide the hurt in her eyes.

“Why is he still doing this?” she whispers to herself. “Doesn’t he feel even a little sorry?”

Nancy's eyes sting. Not because she loves him—but because someone she loves was hurt by him.

She turns over, hugging her pillow tightly. Her chest aches—not with heartbreak, but with helplessness. She wants to fix it, to protect Rychel from everything. But some wounds are silent, and even best friends can’t bandage them.

Outside, the stars blink softly in the dark sky—millions of them, far away and quiet.

Inside, Nancy blinks back her thoughts.

She doesn’t sleep. Not for a long time.

And somewhere in the same night, in another town not too far away, Rychal is sleeping soundly, unaware that someone is lying awake for her, thinking, worrying, hoping that one day—Alex will finally realize what he’s done.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...