The road was cast in the soft glow of evening, city lights just flickering on as the sun dipped beyond the rooftops. Sharon hugged her brand-new notebook close, the empty pages feeling both like a promise and a burden as she hurried toward study class. The world at dusk seemed to slow: scooters hummed past, and from a neighboring tea stall drifted the faint scent of ginger and cardamom.
Somewhere in the quiet, just ahead, a shadow lengthened and moved with sudden purpose. Sharon's grip loosened for a moment, and her notebook was plucked clean away.
She spun around in alarm, only to find Sid standing there under the lamp, grinning like he'd won a secret bet. He was taller than anyone his age ought to be, but in the orange glow, there was less swagger than before, just a spark of mischief, almost daring her to be annoyed.
"So," he said, flipping through the crisp pages, "now I get to see which class you're in."
Sharon's first instinct was annoyance. He was always playing games, always acting like knowing her was a privilege he could tease out piece by piece. "It's a new notebook," she snapped, unable to hide the smile twitching at her lips, "and yes, I am in sixth standard."
Sid laughed, holding the notebook aloft. He knew he was pushing her buttons, but there was an odd energy to it, something different from the easy playfulness he used with others. The truth was, he hadn't expected her to look so annoyed and so composed; somehow, even the flicker of anger made her stand out.
As they walked together down the empty lane, Sid let his steps match hers, finding the silence less awkward than he imagined it would be. "How can someone as tall as you be in sixth?" he muttered, half to himself. Sharon rolled her eyes, reaching for her notebook with mock exasperation.
At the corner before her class, she stopped short, holding out her hand. "Book, please."
He smirked, keeping it for just a second longer, watching her expression flicker between irritation and something almost like challenge. Then he relented, placing the notebook gently in her hand. "Only if you answer one thing…"
Before she could react, he asked, "Will you come on a date with me?"
The words fell between them, incongruous and shocking in the quiet street. Sharon's world skewed sideways. She stared, frozen still, just a kid, more confused than flattered or embarrassed. "Sid, I'm… I'm still in sixth standard," she stammered, truth and childish protest colliding.
Sid was already turning away, hiding a nervous grin behind the practiced cool of someone used to pretending nothing mattered. But as he glanced back, something softer colored his voice. "Love doesn't need age," he said, almost as if saying it made it true, and was gone up the road before she could answer.
Sharon clutched her notebook, the evening air suddenly heavier, every step to class echoing with questions. She couldn't decide which unsettled her more his teasing, or the tiny thrill that someone saw her as more than just a name or a grade. Behind her, Sid kept walking, replaying her reaction, not sure why he wanted so badly for her to take him seriously.
The city settled into the night around them, two kids, each unsure what rules they were breaking, each already changed by the smallest, strangest encounter.