The Weight of Silence

Chapter 13

1. October, 1997
London, England

The morning sunlight filtered through my curtains as I stretched in bed, a soft smile on my face. Yesterday with Sayjan had been perfect. The way he looked at me, the way he kissed me—it was like something out of a movie. I felt like I was floating, and nothing could bring me down.

Downstairs, the smell of toast and tea greeted me. Mum was at the table, flipping through a magazine, while the kettle whistled on the stove. I grabbed a slice of toast and sat down, humming softly to myself.

"You're in a good mood," Mum said, raising an eyebrow over the rim of her teacup.

"Am I?" I said, trying to sound casual, but the grin tugging at my lips probably gave me away.

She didn't press further, and I finished my breakfast quickly, eager to get to school.

When I arrived, the usual chaos filled the halls. I spotted him almost immediately, leaning against the lockers with his friends. My heart leapt at the sight of him, but something felt... off.

He looked tired, his shoulders slouched as he stared at the floor. His friends were laughing and joking, but he wasn't saying much. When he finally noticed me, his eyes softened, and he gave me a small smile. But it was forced—like he was trying to convince me, or maybe himself, that everything was fine.

Before I could even think of approaching him, he turned away and started talking to one of his friends.

"Adma!" Nadiira's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. She appeared beside me, clutching her notebook like it was a lifeline. "Did you do the history homework? Because I completely forgot, and Mr. Patel is going to murder me."

I barely heard her. My eyes were still on Sayjan, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck and nodded absently at something his friend said.

"Adma!" Nadiira waved her hand in front of my face. "You're not even listening."

"Sorry," I muttered, shaking my head. "What were you saying?"

"History homework?"

"Oh. No, I didn't do it either," I admitted, though I wasn't even sure if that was true.

She groaned, but I barely registered it. My mind was elsewhere, tangled up in worry about why he seemed so distant today.

The rest of the day dragged on, and I didn't get another chance to talk to him. After the final bell rang, I stepped outside and saw him again, walking toward the bus stop with his friends. He still looked tired, though he was trying to hide it, smiling faintly at whatever they were saying.

I wanted to call out to him, to ask if he was okay, but I knew better. He didn't want anyone to know about us yet, and I wasn't about to push him. So I just watched as he climbed onto the bus and disappeared from view.

When I got home, I headed straight to my room. My thoughts were racing, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the rotary phone on my nightstand. After a moment of hesitation, I picked up the receiver and dialed his number, carefully pressing each digit.

The line rang twice before he picked up.

"Hello?" His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

"Hi," I said softly, twisting the phone cord around my finger. "It's me."

"Hey," he said, but his tone was flat.

"How are you?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, but there was no warmth in his voice.

I bit my lip, trying to think of something to lighten the mood.

"So, uh, Sahmir had a talk with me about you being in my room the other night," I said, chuckling nervously. "He looked like he was ready to kill you."

There was a pause before he let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, I figured he wasn't too happy about that."

His laugh eased some of my tension, but it was short-lived. The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Listen, I really have to go," he said suddenly, cutting me off.

"Wait, but—"

"Talk later, okay?" he said quickly before hanging up.

The dial tone buzzed in my ear as I sat there, gripping the receiver tightly. My chest felt heavy, the earlier lightness of the morning completely gone.

Something was definitely wrong.