The next morning, Meera and Harsh walked to school together, chatting and laughing over something Harsh had teased her about the night before. Their shoulders brushed occasionally, and Meera couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face.
From across the school gate, Rohan noticed them. His stomach twisted slightly at the sight of Meera so close to Harsh. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to look nonchalant, but the flicker of irritation didn't escape his friends.
He stayed quiet for a while, letting them disappear into the classroom. Once Meera and Harsh were out of sight, Kaiser nudged him.
"Well… looks like your girl's been taken by Harsh," Kaiser said with a smirk.
Rohan's jaw tightened. "Oh my God, she's not my girl," he muttered, trying to sound casual. "She's just… too dramatic sometimes."
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "Dramatic? Or are you just jealous?"
Rohan waved him off. "She's pretty, that's all. That's it. She's not good at studies, she's terrible at sports, and she just… wants to be popular. That's all she is."
Kaiser chuckled knowingly, but Rohan didn't continue. He stared silently toward the classroom, his hands clenched into fists, trying to convince himself that he didn't care—but the tight line of his jaw betrayed him.
Rohan hadn't texted Meera all day. Usually, even the smallest thing would get a message from him—something flirtatious, something teasing. But today… nothing.
By mid-afternoon, Meera couldn't help herself. She picked up her phone and typed a quick message:
"Hey… is everything okay?"
For a moment, the three little dots appeared, showing that Rohan was typing. Meera's heart jumped.
But then… nothing. Minutes passed. The dots disappeared.
Two hours later, her phone buzzed.
"I want to meet you. I need to say something."
Meera stared at the message for a moment, her emotions mixed between curiosity and caution. She could have ignored it, but something in her made her respond.
"Okay."
She debated where he might want to meet, what he could possibly want to say, and whether she should be prepared for anything.
By evening, she decided she would be… polite, at least. She would meet him and hear him out.
Little did she know, the encounter would leave her questioning everything she thought she knew about him.
Meera arrived at the small park near the school, the place they often passed by after football practice. Rohan was already there, leaning casually against a lamppost.
The moment he saw her, he straightened up and walked toward her.
"You didn't text back," he said, his voice calm but his eyes sharp. "I was worried."
Meera raised an eyebrow. "Two hours late isn't exactly reassuring, Rohan."
He smirked. "You worry too much."
She crossed her arms. "Maybe. But it's only because you didn't even say why you wanted to meet."
Rohan hesitated for a second, then grabbed her hand. Meera stiffened.
"You embarrassed me today," he said quietly, almost angrily. "When you didn't come to hang out. In front of everyone. I… I don't like that."
Meera rolled her eyes. "Excuse me? I'm not even your girlfriend. Why should I care about embarrassing you?"
Rohan's jaw tightened, and he accidentally pushed her a little against the park's wooden door of the pavilion. Meera stumbled and gasped, clutching her shoulder.
"Rohan!" she exclaimed, startled and hurt.
He froze for a moment, seemingly realizing what had happened—but before he could apologize, he turned and stormed off, leaving her standing there, shaken.
Meera's hands trembled as she texted Harsh, but then stopped. She didn't know what to say. For the first time, she was genuinely scared of Rohan's temper.
Is he… crazy? she thought, trying to steady her breathing.
The sky darkened suddenly as Meera walked home, her mind still replaying what had just happened with Rohan. Tiny drops began to fall, quickly turning into a steady drizzle.
Meera groaned. "Great, just what I needed…" she muttered to herself, trying to pull her hoodie tighter around her.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed someone jogging toward her. Harsh. His hair was damp, but he didn't seem bothered by it.
"You look like you're about to get soaked," he said, holding out his jacket. "Here, take it."
Meera hesitated for a moment, then let him drape it over her shoulders. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice quieter than usual.
Harsh looked at her closely. There was concern in his eyes, but he didn't press her. "You okay? You seem… off."
Meera shrugged, looking down. "I'm fine. Just… tired."
He didn't argue. Instead, he gently took her hand and led her toward the small pavilion at the corner of the park. They reached it just as the rain poured harder. The wooden roof creaked above them.
Sitting side by side, Harsh handed her a paper napkin to wipe the droplets off her face. "You're shivering," he noted. "Cold?"
"Yeah… maybe a little," Meera admitted. She wanted to tell him everything—about Rohan, the push, the fear—but she couldn't. Not yet.
Harsh's expression softened. "You know, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Just… sit here and breathe. I've got you."
Meera felt a strange warmth in her chest, contrasting with the chill of the rain. She nodded quietly, allowing him to stay close.
For a few minutes, they sat in comfortable silence, listening to the rain drum against the roof. Harsh occasionally nudged her shoulder playfully or handed her a tissue when a stray drop fell on her face, and Meera felt a mix of relief and something more—something she hadn't realized she was craving.
Even though she didn't reveal the reason she was shaken, she felt safe.
And somehow, in that moment, the world outside—the storm, the chaos, Rohan's unpredictable temper—didn't seem quite so overwhelming.
The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle by the time Harsh offered Meera his umbrella. She shook her head. "No, let's just… walk. It's refreshing."
He raised an eyebrow, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Refreshing, huh? You mean soaking wet and shivering?"
"I'm fine," Meera said, rolling her eyes, though a small smile escaped despite herself.
"Sure," he teased, looping his arm through hers. "Lead the way, drama queen."
They walked slowly down the empty streets, their shoes splashing in puddles. The world smelled like wet earth, and the streetlights reflected softly on the glistening pavement. Harsh stole glances at her, noticing how her damp hair clung to her cheeks, how her lips curved slightly despite the tension she was hiding.
"You know," he said after a while, his tone lighter now, "you could at least pretend to enjoy my company. It's a free service: walking in the rain, emotional support included."
Meera laughed softly. "Emotional support, huh? You're starting to sound like a superhero."
"Yeah, yeah," he said, nudging her shoulder. "But unlike other superheroes you know, I don't wear a cape. Just sarcasm and awkward smiles."
She shook her head, laughing again. "And yet, somehow, you make it work."
They reached a quiet park bench under a tree, its leaves dripping with rain. Harsh gestured toward it. "Sit. Or do you want to keep flopping around like a drowned cat?"
Meera rolled her eyes but sat beside him. For a few moments, they didn't speak, listening to the rain patter gently around them.
Then Harsh nudged her hand gently with his. "You know… you don't have to tell me what's wrong. I can tell by the way you're frowning like you're solving world peace problems in your head."
Meera looked at him, her lips parting slightly, unsure what to say. Instead, she just let her head lean slightly toward his shoulder. Harsh didn't move; he simply kept walking his fingers along hers, letting her relax.
"You're ridiculous," she whispered after a while.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, his voice soft. "But apparently, you like it."
She smiled faintly, feeling a flutter she couldn't quite define. Even though the rain was cold, even though her mind still swirled with thoughts of Rohan, she felt something steady here with Harsh—a warmth she hadn't expected, a comfort she didn't want to let go.
And for the first time in a long while, Meera realized… maybe she didn't have to face everything alone.