The First Glance

A road, a rush, and an unexpected beginning...

It was just another boring Thursday evening for Ayaan. He lay half-dead on his bed, phone on his chest, music playing softly, when her message dropped.

Meher__x:

“I’m out to get some study material. Small road near Govt. Model School. I’ll be here only 15 minutes, so come fast or I’m leaving.”

He blinked. Sat up.

Fifteen minutes?

What kind of test of loyalty was this?

He didn’t even reply.

Just grabbed his hoodie, slid into mismatched shoes, and bolted out of the house like the building was on fire.

---

By the time he reached the lane, he was panting like he’d run a marathon without a medal.

His hair was a mess, one of his shoes was half untied, and he was pretty sure he’d elbowed two people and scared a fruit vendor on the way.

But there she was.

Meher. Standing outside a tiny, dusty bookstore that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since 2003.

She had a small paper bag in one hand, her phone in the other, and her bag loosely hanging off her shoulder. Her school uniform was slightly wrinkled, and she looked... real. Not like a profile picture. Not like a filtered version. Just her.

She saw him and raised an eyebrow. “You ran?”

Ayaan, catching his breath, tried to play it cool.

“Jogged.”

“Your hair says otherwise.”

He awkwardly patted his head and laughed, wiping sweat from his forehead. “You said fifteen minutes. I took it seriously.”

She grinned. “You look like you fought a storm to get here.”

“Kind of did. A cow blocked my way near the chowk. Refused to move.”

That made her laugh — loud and unexpected.

---

They started walking down the narrow street. It was a quiet lane, with old shops, paan stalls, and kids playing cricket in slippers. The sun was dimming, turning everything gold-orange.

“Did you really rush just to see me?” Meher asked, teasing.

He shrugged, trying to hide his smile. “Well, the cow didn't give me much choice.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “You’re funny. Quiet, but funny.”

Ayaan glanced at her. “You’re bossy. But I kind of like it.”

She smirked. “Good. Because I’ll keep doing it.”

---

That random meetup became their first real step out of the screen. No more profile pictures, no voice notes — just walking side by side on a cracked footpath like two old friends who hadn’t realized they’d just begun.

“Did you get everything?” he asked, nodding toward the paper bag.

“Yeah. Just notebooks. And a highlighter I probably won’t use.”

They stopped near a tiny juice stall. She bought a lemonade, offered it to him without asking.

“Drink. You look like you’re dying.”

He sipped. “I don’t usually run for people, you know.”

She raised her lemonade like a toast. “Feel honored. Also... next time, wear matching shoes.”

He looked down. Groaned. She laughed again — louder this time.

---

As they neared the end of the street, she pointed toward an auto. “That’s my stop.”

He nodded, quietly disappointed the walk was ending already.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, stepping into the auto. “It meant more than you think.”

And before he could reply, she was gone. The auto drove off, and the road felt emptier than before.