Author's Note: I am glad y'all enjoyed the last chapter and all that happened in it! I hope y'all enjoy this one too, see you on the other side!

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Meerab Ahmed

Echo Valley High School, USA

Thursday

"Maybe I was wrong," Ajiya whispered, her voice barely audible over the chatter of the lunchroom.

Both girls sat side by side, their eyes locked on his table. Meerab's heart had soared when he smiled at her that morning in the hall. The memory of their late-night texts, talking until 1 a.m. about their pets and his trips to Europe, replayed in her mind. His messages had been filled with excitement, and he had shared little tips about what she should see while she was there.

Ajiya and she had spent the night screaming – because in between the little tips, he let little things slip, as if he would be there with her. Like, 'I'll show you where the best gelato place is.'

Her heart had been thumping happily in her chest all day, a silly grin plastered on her face at the mere thought of him.

And then Meerab walked into the lunchroom.

The scene before her felt like a slap in the face. He was sitting beside Mahnoor, which was not unusual, but what was unusual was that Mahnoor was resting her head on his shoulder, and he was speaking to her quietly. The sight made her heart plummet.

"Maybe," Meerab muttered, maybe they had both been wrong.

"Meerab," Ajiya muttered, her eyes wide as Meerab looked towards her.

Meerab forced a smile at her friend, but it felt like her world was crumbling. "I am going to go to the library."

"But you didn't eat," Ajiya pointed out, her concern evident.

"I am not hungry," Meerab replied, her voice strained as she grabbed her bag, her eyes drifting back to his table. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't help herself. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion.

"I'll go with – "

"No." Meerab said, her eyes still on his table.

She saw the gentle way he touched Mahnoor's back, the way he leaned in close to speak to her. It felt like a knife twisting in her heart. She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears that were threatening to fall just as he looked towards her table. She quickly averted her gaze, refusing to make eye contact with him. Not right then. Not when her heart was breaking.

She stood up, her legs feeling like lead as she walked out of the cafeteria. She waved at people she knew on the way, forcing a smile that felt too big, too fake. Each step felt like a monumental effort, her heartache growing with every stride.

The moment she was out of sight, her facade started to crumble. She strode into the library, her safe haven, but even that felt tainted today. She walked past her favorite table, which people always left empty for her. She didn't want to talk to people who strolled up to her table to ask for help today. Instead, she walked back to the empty foreign languages section, sitting on the floor across from the bookshelf that featured in her dream. She took out her books, but even though she knew she had Calculus homework, she left that textbook in her bag; she didn't want to look at it right then.

Her hands trembled as she flipped through her binder, trying to concentrate on the English assignment that was due in a couple of days. The words on the page were a blur, and she realized that her eyes were filled with tears. She bit her lip, trying to hold them back, but it was no use. A single tear escaped and traced a path down her cheek, splashing onto the paper below.

She had never cried over a boy before. She had told herself she never would.

He had just been an unattainable crush that she admired from afar for years.

She should have left it at that.

Because suddenly it hadn't felt unattainable. Not when she spent two hours texting him the previous night. Not when she had spent four hours sitting across from him in a coffee shop sharing things with him that not many knew and learning about him. Not when his hand brushed hers as they walked together. Not when he smiled at her like he did.

She had been so stupid.

This was what she had been scared of. Getting her hopes up and having them crushed. At least when she stared at him from afar, she could reason that it was just an infatuation that would pass. But now that she knew him, really knew him, she couldn't write it off like that. She liked him, really liked him. It wasn't just a silly crush.

She should have known better. She had always suspected there was something going on between him and Mahnoor – it was one of the reasons she never talked to him. She didn't want to be the girl going after another girl's boyfriend. But she thought he – she shook her head, she wasn't going to go down that road again.

"Stop thinking about him," she whispered to herself. "Stop," she said while wiping away her tears. If he was flirting with her when he had a girlfriend, then she didn't want to like him. She was just going to stop thinking about him and stop liking him.

She got to work on her assignment, pushing all the unwanted thoughts of him away for some time. The words on the page started to come into focus as she forced herself to concentrate. A while later, she looked up to see a couple approaching the section, hand in hand, giggling. They both stopped dead in their tracks and turned right back around when they noticed her sitting there. She sighed, her eyes going to the shelf in front of her, reminding her of what she had subconsciously wanted.

She picked up her phone and sent him a text, telling him that she couldn't make their tutoring session.

And then she ignored his "Where are you? Are you okay?" text after. He shouldn't care. She shouldn't either.

Her phone buzzed again, but she turned it off, not wanting to deal with his concern. It was too painful to think that he might actually care about her well-being and know that it didn't mean anything to him, not like it did to her.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The scene in the cafeteria replayed in her mind, Mahnoor's head on his shoulder, his hand on her back, the intimate way they spoke. It was a scene ripped straight from her nightmares. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, like someone had reached in and squeezed her heart.

How stupid she had been to think he might actually like her. How foolish to imagine he saw her as anything more than a friend or someone just tutoring him. She let out a shuddering breath, the tears falling freely now.

She thought about all the conversations, the shared secrets, the inside jokes. Had any of it meant anything to him? Or was she just another girl he was nice to, while his heart belonged to someone else? She felt a fresh wave of tears at the thought, her vision blurring until she could no longer see the pages of her binder.

She buried her face in her arms, wishing she could disappear. How would she face him in Calculus? How could she go back to pretending everything was fine? She felt a bitter laugh bubble up in her throat at the irony of it all. She had spent so long hiding her feelings from him, and now, when it mattered most, she couldn't hide the pain.

Meerab felt like a fool. She had allowed herself to hope, to dream, and now those dreams lay shattered around her. She clutched her binder to her chest, as if it could somehow hold her together. But deep down, she knew nothing could mend her broken heart right then.

She wished she could rewind time, go back to the days when he was just a crush, a distant fantasy. Those days had been simpler, safer. She had kept her heart guarded then, but now, it was exposed and bleeding.

Meerab leaned back against the bookshelf, her tears slowing but the ache in her chest remaining. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose herself.

She had to be strong.

There were tests she needed to study for, assignments she needed to complete, applications she needed to write, and extracurriculars she needed to balance with all of that. She had too much to do to be sitting in a library crying over a...stupid boy. She couldn't let him distract her.

She told herself that, but as the bell rang, signaling that lunch would end in ten minutes, she couldn't find it in herself to move. The weight of her heartbreak anchored her to the spot, her mind a storm of emotions and thoughts. How could she face him in class? How could she focus on anything when her heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces?

Ajiya found her after the second bell, her face a mask of concern. She carried Meerab's jacket and a few items from her locker, her presence a comforting balm to Meerab's soul.

"Let's go home early today," Ajiya said softly, her voice gentle but firm. "I made sure someone would send you all the notes from the classes you'll miss, and I told the office you were feeling unwell so I am taking you home."

Meerab looked up at her friend, her vision blurred by fresh tears. The kindness and understanding in Ajiya's eyes were almost too much to bear. She nodded, her throat too tight to speak, as tears streamed down her face once more. She felt a surge of gratitude for Ajiya, who always seemed to know exactly what she needed.

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Murtasim Khan

Echo Valley High School, USA

Tuesday

Meerab was avoiding him. It had been days now, and it felt like an eternity.

She didn't look up at him and smile when they walked past each other in the hallway.

She didn't flash that beautiful smile at him in Calculus, Gym, or English class.

She didn't answer his texts with the cute emojis anymore; now her responses were abrupt, almost curt.

She had texted him to cancel their after-school tutoring sessions three days in a row. She didn't respond to his follow-up texts asking if she was okay.

Murtasim felt like he was living in a fog.

He had gone looking for her in the library the first day she canceled, hoping to find her at her usual table. But she wasn't there. He had seen her leave the cafeteria with her books, so he checked the Student Council Office too, but it was empty. She hadn't shown up to their classes. Every corner of the school felt empty without her. It felt like a weekend again, and he hated weekends now, the days he didn't get to see her.

He sat at the back of their English class, staring at the back of her head, wondering what he had done wrong. She didn't even look his way anymore. It was as if he had become invisible to her.

Was he too forward texting her so late at night? But he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. He had missed her as soon as he dropped her off on Wednesday night, for the second day in a row. He wanted to continue their conversation. He had spent an hour trying to figure out how to start the conversation and then stared at his phone for a long time, hoping she was awake after sending off the 27th message he wrote out.

When she finally replied, he had been over the moon, even though she thought he was calling her a dog. He had just wanted to tell her she was cute. His heart had pounded in his chest as he waited for her response, hoping he hadn't gone too far. But she had teased him and they had talked for hours.

He had fallen asleep with a huge smile on his face, replaying their walk to the coffee shop the previous day, their never-ending conversation, and her smile over and over again. She had even smiled at him in the hallway when they walked past each other on Thursday morning.

But then she stopped. And he hadn't been able to figure out why. She cancelled their tutoring session on Friday and Monday, and he was afraid she would do it again.

He sighed and looked towards the window in the classroom, only to find her best friend glaring at him, shooting daggers with her eyes.

He raised his eyebrow at her, but she just huffed and turned back to face the blackboard. What was happening? Why was her friend glaring at him? Why was Meerab ignoring him?

He turned his gaze back to the object of his affection. Today, she had her hair tied up, her long neck on display. She was listening intently to the teacher, scribbling down notes with that focused look he adored. He knew she would rewrite them later in an organized manner, adding more notes from the textbook while he worked on the homework at their tutoring session.

His heart ached with longing. He missed her. He missed talking to her. He missed her smile, especially when it was directed at him. He missed the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. He missed the way she bit her lip when she was deep in thought. He missed everything about her.

The Vice-President of the Student Council, who sat beside her, leaned in and whispered a question. Meerab smiled at him and nodded, just like she used to nod at Murtasim when he asked her something. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a punch to the gut.

He sighed heavily, his chest tight with confusion and frustration. He wished he could read her mind, understand what had changed. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and ask her why she was pushing him away. But he knew he couldn't. He had to find a way to fix this, whatever it was.

Murtasim's mind raced. He replayed every conversation, every text, every moment they had shared, searching for clues. Had he said something wrong? Had he done something to upset her? He couldn't think of anything, and the not knowing was driving him mad.

He needed to fix this. He needed to talk to her, to find out what was wrong and make it right. Because life without Meerab, even just a few days without her smile, her laugh, her presence, was unbearable.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, he gathered his things slowly, hoping for a chance to catch her alone. But she was quick, slipping out of the room before he could even stand up. He watched her go, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over him.

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Murtasim had been familiar with jealousy when it came to Meerab.

Half the boys in their grade had been subjected to his wrath due to their behavior or comments about her. But he didn't even count those as real jealousy; that was just teaching idiots a lesson.

The boys he couldn't beat up were the ones that made him the most jealous.

He had first experienced it in Grade 10 when a male friend of hers walked with his arm around her shoulders while explaining something to her. Murtasim had glared at him with such intensity that it was a wonder the guy didn't burst into flames. Even to this day, he couldn't stand the sight of him.

The second time he felt jealousy was when he heard someone ask her on a date. His heart had plummeted to his stomach as he waited for her answer. She said no, very apologetically, but Murtasim still sent death glares at the guy whenever he saw him.

The third time he experienced jealousy was when another guy in their grade drove her home one day. He had never wanted to vandalize a car so badly in his life.

But those experiences didn't prepare him for the feeling he got when she walked into the calculus classroom after school with the Vice-President of the Student Council following her like a puppy—Rohail. He was joining their session today because he claimed he didn't understand the lesson in class.

Murtasim glared at Rohail. The content was easy. Even Murtasim understood it completely fine, despite spending most of the class staring at Meerab.

He was onto Rohail. He knew the guy had feelings for Meerab—a blind man would know.

Murtasim had hoped to talk to her today, to ask if everything was okay. To ask why she was ignoring his texts, why she no longer smiled at him in the hallway, why she was avoiding him. Had he done something to offend her? Did something happen? Was her family okay? But with Rohail in the room, his plans were thwarted.

She answered Rohail's questions with a smile and laughter. But his questions were answered quietly, almost mechanically. She no longer hit his arm when he purposely made stupid mistakes for her attention. She didn't ask him random questions or answer his while they studied.

But she talked about an upcoming fundraiser with Rohail.

She invited Rohail to her house to plan for it over the weekend.

He knew other Student Council members would be there too, but he still felt like pummeling Rohail to the ground and yelling, "Mine!" He knew it was rather barbaric and that she wouldn't be happy about it, so it remained just a thought.

His narrowed eyes followed their every move, cataloging every time Rohail touched her. They both looked comfortable with each other, and it ruffled his feathers.

His ears caught every word that passed between them. They were clearly friends. She knew about his sisters, and apparently, he knew that her mother made the best chicken satay.

It irritated him immensely.

He wanted to know that about her.

Murtasim kept waiting for her to look at him, to laugh with him, to roll her eyes and smile at him, to pout at him. But she did none of those things. She just quietly helped him with the lesson he already knew. She pulled her hand away like it was on fire when his hand brushed hers, and he couldn't help but feel hurt by her actions.

She had never done that before.

What did I do wrong? Is she telling me to back off?

He sighed as they wrapped up for the day. He was going to offer to walk her home, but Rohail beat him to it, and she accepted before whispering a quiet goodbye to him and disappearing.

She left him standing there, feeling hollow and wondering if she would spend hours talking to Rohail at a coffee shop.

His heart hurt. Like someone was squeezing it in his chest.

He watched them leave together, his fists clenching at his sides. Did she figure out he liked her and was rejecting him like this? Had her mother said something about what he had done? Did she think he was a barbarian? Was she mad?

Maybe she just didn't like him?

A cold, sinking feeling settled in his stomach as these thoughts swirled in his mind. Every step he took felt like a thousand pounds. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't true, that Meerab wouldn't push him away so coldly. But the nagging doubt persisted. Maybe her mother had told her about how he had beaten up those guys for her. Maybe she knew now that he liked her and was pushing him away because she didn't reciprocate his feelings.

Tears filled his eyes as he walked home, blurring his vision. He looked up at the sky, hoping the open expanse would stop the tears from falling, but the ache in his chest only grew. The sky offered no solace, only a vast emptiness that mirrored his own feelings.

When he finally reached home, he barely noticed the familiar surroundings. The house felt colder, lonelier. He collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He tried to hold back, to be strong, but the tears he had been fighting all the way home finally spilled over.

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Murtasim Khan

Echo Valley High School, USA

Wednesday

"What is up with you? Who died?" Saad asked as he plopped down beside Murtasim on the bench after the soccer game. They had won, but Murtasim didn't feel like celebrating.

He was dead...on the inside.

Meerab hadn't been at the game; she was always at the games.

Apparently, she had gone home early, all the meetings she had on Wednesdays canceled. Just perfect. He couldn't even walk her home like he usually did. It had been a whole week since he had walked beside her and talked to her.

"Nothing," Murtasim said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"You got into about four fights on the field; that's three more than you usually do. You kicked so hard that people went tumbling over. You've been in a mood for days now."

"I don't want to talk about it," Murtasim mumbled, looking down at his cleats. Or rather, at the ground, because even his cleats were annoying him right now.

"Shut the fuck up, I gave you days. Now spit it out," Saad demanded loudly before getting quieter. "Are you moping over Meerab?" he asked quietly, almost conspiratorially.

"Am I really that obvious?" Murtasim muttered, feeling a bit pathetic.

"No, you're not. I have just known you since we were in diapers, you idiot," Saad responded while whacking him on the back of the head.

"Stop hitting me!" Murtasim snapped, rubbing the sore spot. Seriously, did Saad think whacking people was a form of therapy?

"Stop moping! Do something about this crush of yours. I thought you finally were," Saad said, exasperated.

"She's avoiding me. I don't know what I did wrong. Everything was fine—I thought maybe she liked me too, and then she just started acting weird. I think she found out that I like her, and this is how she's rejecting me."

"No, you dumb shit, that can't be it. She's too nice to be that cold," Saad said, rolling his eyes.

He was right, Meerab was too nice to be like that, so why?

"When did she start acting weird?" Saad asked.

"Last Thursday, at lunch," Murtasim muttered.

Saad sighed, shaking his head like he was dealing with a toddler. "And what were you doing last Thursday at lunch?"

"Nothing, just sitting at our table," Murtasim said, confused by the line of questioning. Where was this going?

"With who?"

"With Mahnoor and you," he said, even more confused. Was this a quiz show? Did he need to phone a friend?

Saad groaned, slapping his forehead. "You idiot."

"What?" Murtasim asked, feeling like he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Or the whole damn puzzle.

"You had your arm wrapped around Mahnoor. She was leaning into you," Saad said in a very 'you should know this' tone.

"I know, I was there, but what does that have to do with anything?" Murtasim asked, feeling even more bewildered.

"You idiot! Meerab probably thinks there is something going on between you and Mahnoor," Saad groaned.

"What?!" Murtasim said, shocked. "People think we're together?!"

That was disgusting. He would never. The idea of being with Mahnoor was about as appealing as eating a soggy shoe or swimming in a pool of expired yogurt. Mahnoor inspired words like "bro" and "dude," not "love" or "girlfriend." There was only one person he wanted to be together with—Meerab.

"Yeah, people that don't know you well do. I think Meerab does too."

"Wait, so you think she's angry because of that?" Murtasim asked, his mind racing. What did that mean?

"Maybe. She's probably wondering why you're flirting with her when you're with Mahnoor," Saad pointed out.

"But I am not with her! Her grandpa died just last month, and then her grandma got diagnosed with cancer. She was crying; what was I supposed to do?" Murtasim asked, remembering how helpless he felt when Mahnoor had unloaded everything on him.

"Meerab doesn't know that. Tell her," Saad said firmly.

"Will that make a difference? What if she doesn't even like me?" Murtasim pouted, feeling like a kicked puppy. Great. Now he was a kicked puppy.

"You idiot. I swear—she wouldn't react like she did if she didn't like you," Saad said, igniting a tiny spark of hope in Murtasim's chest.

"So you think she likes me?" Murtasim asked, his heart pounding.

"Yeah. Now stop moping and talk to her."

"I only see her after school for tutoring, and she keeps bringing Rohail to the sessions because he apparently needs help," Murtasim muttered. Rohail. Why did he have to exist?

"He won't show up tomorrow," Saad said with a mischievous grin.

"What are you going to do?" Murtasim asked suspiciously. Unalive him?

"Kiss him and make him fall in love with me," Saad deadpanned.

"Dude!" Murtasim exclaimed, his eyes widening in horror.

"I'll just distract him and make sure he doesn't show up. Talk to her. Please. I can't handle all this angst; it's bad for my health," Saad said, dramatically clutching his chest. Yeah, because Saad was the one with the broken heart here.

"Why is it bad for your health?" Murtasim asked, causing his friend to sigh deeply.

"Because I'm this close to losing my sanity watching you two idiots dance around each other," Saad said, pinching his fingers together for emphasis.

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Author's Note: Tadaaaaaaa! So, what do we think? I know I know, "how could you end it there?!" The next chapter should be up tomorrow!