It was a weekday warm afternoon. I was sitting under a shed with study benches and tables. I remember you had texted me a week earlier asking for help with maths so we planned to meet up that day. I was having a silly argument with my friend, like always, when you walked over to the table. We exchanged greetings and you joined us. I didn't know how to act, not knowing the reason you picked me out of about 60 students to help you. The reasons that came to mind were all conceited ones. As we started to tackle the assignment my uncle called, he had come to pick me up. I apologized as he had come earlier than usual. I never really got to know you. Like are you left or right-handed? The type of music you enjoy. Do you have siblings? What makes you happy or sad? I don't know if I ever will get to know you that well now that we are continents apart and the only communication is through remembering each other when one posts a status.
YOU ARE READING
How I met you
ContoAn anthology of how people come into a person's life, some stay, some only stay only for a brief moment, and some barely make it past a week.
