Between Pages and Places

November 6, 2022. The day started like any other, but with a bit more excitement—I was heading to my English tuition class early because our teacher had planned a trip for all of us. My father and I waited outside the center for my best friend, Karishma, to arrive. I was anxious to get going but was equally eager to see her.

A few minutes passed, and a junior girl arrived. She was a little shorter than me, wearing a white T-shirt with a dark jean jacket and jeans to match. She seemed shy, but I struck up a conversation. It helped that my father knew her mother, making the introduction a bit smoother. Just as we were getting to know each other, I spotted Karishma. She wore a light green T-shirt with a "Friend" necklace that I’d gifted her, dark jeans, and a pair of blue Crocs. It was a simple but cute outfit that was so her.

Kirti as I often call her, has been my closest friend since the fifth grade. We have so much in common—we both have older sisters, younger brothers, and share a love for Doraemon, painting, and traveling. We even write letters to each other and exchange diaries every week, capturing all our daily thoughts and memories. In fact, I still have the diary we started back on August 27, 2019, and it’s 2024 now! However, as close as we are, things have changed a bit. Somewhere after eighth grade, we drifted. Maybe it was growing up or just changing interests, but our inseparable bond softened.

“Hey! When did you get here?” Kirti greeted me, with that familiar mischievous smile.

“Way before you!” I teased back.

Soon, our teacher called us into the classroom for attendance. I took a seat in the front row, and as I glanced back, I was surprised to see at least twenty other students—most of them older guys. I’d thought this trip was just for ninth and tenth graders. A momentary surprise, but I brushed it off quickly, too excited for the day to get bogged down by details.

When it was time to board the bus, Kirti and I snagged a spot around the fourth row, left side. I got the window seat, and she sat beside me. We snapped a few pictures and waved to our parents through the glass as they reminded us to call as soon as we reached the park. About fifteen minutes later, the bus finally rumbled to life, and we were off. Kirti and I had planned to listen to our favorite songs on the ride, but the Bluetooth headphones I’d ordered hadn’t arrived in time. We were a bit disappointed, but I decided to capture the moments on video instead.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him—a boy standing near the front, wearing a black shirt with white dots and a pair of headphones around his neck. He was playing music over the bus speakers for everyone to enjoy. I thought it was thoughtful of him, though at that moment, he was just a passing detail in a day I was otherwise wrapped up in.

As the bus sped down the road, we watched trees whiz by, gazed at mountains in the distance, and even spotted an American couple riding in an open jeep. The whole bus was alive with energy; students were dancing and laughing, soaking in every second of freedom.

After a few hours, the bus stopped at a restaurant for breakfast. The place was crowded, so when Kirti and I returned from the restroom, we found a small, empty table off to the side. A few minutes later, the boy from the bus sat down across from us with his friend. Now I noticed his outfit more clearly—a white T-shirt with a blue-painted lower half, black pants, and square glasses. Funny enough, we even had matching shoes, something I’d only find amusing a whole year later when I remembered this day.

Breakfast was simple—roti and dal—and after filling up, we hopped back on the bus for the final stretch to our destination: Orchid Park

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