A single tear rolled down Divangshi’s cheek before she could even register the weight of her own emotions. She wiped it away quickly, hoping the moment had passed unnoticed. But mothers were always quicker, weren’t they? Her mom, ever observant, didn’t miss the subtle shift in her daughter’s mood.
“Rahi, is everything alright?” her mom asked softly, her voice a gentle melody of concern.
Divangshi startled slightly at the question, then rushed to mask her emotions with a stiff, overly casual tone. “Sorry? What? What’s wrong? Why would anything be wrong?”
Her mom raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You know you can share everything with me, right? Parents notice more than you think. If something’s bothering you, you don’t have to keep it to yourself. I may not have a magic solution, but I can comfort you. I am your mother, after all.”
Divangshi sighed internally, her defenses slowly crumbling under the tenderness of her mom’s words. She wanted to say something, anything, but the knot in her chest tightened, so she just nodded instead. “Yeah, mom. I know. I promise, nothing’s wrong. I’m just… worried about finishing the syllabus.”
Her mom’s gaze softened further, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Oh, if that’s what’s bothering you, I have something that might cheer you up.”
Divangshi’s ears perked up, curiosity briefly pushing aside her anxiety. “What is it?”
“The dresses are ready,” her mom said, a smile playing on her lips. “Go pack them. We’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow. And for heaven’s sake, don’t worry so much about your exams. You’ve prepared well, my little doll. Whatever percentage you bring will make us proud. Now go, pack your things.”
The warmth in her mother’s voice was enough to melt the tension that had been building up in Divangshi’s chest for days. She couldn’t help but smile—wide and genuine this time. The embrace that followed was brief but filled with more comfort than words could ever provide.
Later, as she pulled her favorite playlist from her phone and began packing her dresses, a small part of her mind drifted back to what was really troubling her. Hamza. Every little thing between them felt like it was hanging in the air, unresolved, and her heart couldn’t figure out how to deal with it. As she carefully folded her lehenga into the suitcase, she wondered if she’d ever get a chance to sort it all out.
---
Meanwhile, back at school, Hamza’s thoughts were far from where they should have been. His eyes drifted, unfocused, over the patterns on his desk as the teacher’s voice became background noise.
"Hamza! Is your mind even present in class, or did you leave it at home?" the teacher’s sharp tone cut through his fog, startling him out of his daze.
Hamza blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard a word of the lecture. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled. "I’ll be attentive from now on."
The teacher wasn’t having it. "How much did you score in Economics on your cumulative? Do you even remember? Start focusing, or you won’t make it through 11th grade."
Hamza barely nodded before the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Relief washed over him as he grabbed his bag and followed Adil and Shahaan out to the courtyard for recess. The two of them were chatting casually, but Hamza’s mind was elsewhere. Divangshi’s avoidance, her coldness—it all weighed heavily on him.
"You good, bro?" Shahaan asked, noticing his friend’s silence.
Hamza just shrugged, his eyes scanning the horizon, almost as if he expected to see her. "Yeah, I’m fine."
