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Adhya Mishra & Ishaan Raizada
"Do you wanna go out with me?" The question hung in the air, catching him just as his hand met the cold brass of the doorknob.
I'm barely half his size-a pocket-sized complication in his very peaceful life-, but in my head, I fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. He paused, his shoulders dropping in a silent sigh before he turned. He took those slow, deliberate steps toward me, closing the distance until the world was nothing but the scent of his laundry detergent and the looming shadow of his height.
"If you keep doing this," he murmured, his voice a low vibration in the quiet street, "people are going to think I'm tricking you into liking me. So, stop the experiments and go inside. We have an exam tomorrow."
Then, he reached out and ruffled my hair-that careless, affectionate gesture that always leaves my heart a mess and my hair even worse.
How is anyone supposed to stay sane when he does that?
"Okay then," I countered, beaming up at him with a grin that probably showed too many teeth. "We'll go out after graduation. It's a date."
He didn't argue. He just gave a curt, resigned nod and gently spun me around, nudging me toward my gate. Living next door to him was the best thing ever. I walked to my porch feeling like I was floating, my head spinning with a feeling I can't even describe. I just wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.
Just before slipping inside, I couldn't help it-I looked back. He was still there, rooted to the spot, watching me make sure I got in safely. I blew him a theatrical kiss, and for a second, the cool, nonchalant boy next door actually turned a frantic shade of pink. He ducked his head, finally turning toward his own door, and I practically fell into my house, leaning against the wood with a breathless laugh. Exam? What exam? I'd already passed the only test that mattered.