The seasons changed like pages in a quiet diary—one unnoticed, then suddenly everything felt different.
Eisha and Ayaan were now in class seven. Adolescence had started creeping into their lives—more silence, more hesitation, and more questions they couldn't quite name. The innocence of childhood still lingered, but something more delicate and complicated was forming beneath the surface.
Their morning walks to school were quieter now. Ayaan had developed a habit of listening to music with one earphone in. Eisha would often snatch it out and grumble, "Do you even listen when I talk anymore?"
He'd just smirk and say, "You talk enough for both of us. I'm saving battery."
She didn't laugh like she used to. She stared at him for a moment longer than usual.
Things really began to shift when Priya came.
Priya was a new girl in school—smart, elegant, and unusually mature for her age. She had a calmness in her voice and a subtle charm that made everyone notice her, especially the boys. And Ayaan, for the first time, started acting… different.
He would talk to Priya after class. Help her with assignments. Smile at her jokes. It was subtle, but Eisha noticed everything.
One day in the corridor, Eisha saw Priya hand Ayaan a note. It wasn't anything dramatic—just a thank-you note for helping with math. But Eisha's chest tightened.
That evening, she didn't call Ayaan like she usually did to talk about homework. She didn't even respond to his message about the English assignment. She just stared at the screen and let the silence sit there.
At school the next day, Ayaan asked, "You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped back.
He raised an eyebrow. "Because you're talking like you swallowed a lemon."
"Oh, sorry! I didn't know I needed your permission to talk normally."
He sighed. "What's your problem?"
"You tell me," she fired. "You're the one getting love notes from Priya."
Ayaan blinked. "It was a thank-you note, Eisha. For helping her with homework."
"Oh right," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "You're the class savior now."
They didn't talk for the rest of the day.
At home, Eisha sat on her bed, her books open but untouched. Her mother noticed. "Something wrong with Ayaan?"
She looked up. "Why do you think it's about Ayaan?"
Her mother smiled. "Because whenever you're like this, it's either Ayaan… or your math marks. And it's not report card week."
Eisha didn't reply. She just looked down and whispered, "He's different these days."
Her mother sat beside her and stroked her hair. "You both are growing up. Things will change. But if the bond is real, it will only get stronger."
A few days later, Ayaan came to her house with a packet of her favorite orange candy.
"What's this for?" she asked coldly.
"For being a drama queen," he said. "And because I missed you being annoying all day."
She looked at him, her lips twitching into the tiniest smile. "You're still an idiot."
"I know," he said. "But I'm your idiot."
They both laughed—awkwardly, but together. And just like that, the tension faded a little.
But something had changed.
Eisha realized that what she felt when she saw Ayaan with Priya wasn't just annoyance.
It was jealousy.
It was the fear of being replaced.
It was the first time she truly felt the ache of unspoken love.
And though Ayaan never said it, he too had felt a strange hollowness during those days without her laughter. But neither had the words for what they were going through.
They were growing up.And with it, so was their bond—more complicated, more intense, and more real.