Chapter 1
We never planned on writing a memory. We just planned a trip.
Seven of us. One car. A hill station. It was supposed to be fun — light, refreshing, free. But like all good stories, someone uninvited showed up. And like all twisted ones, someone else invited him.
His name was Arjun. And from the very beginning, I didn’t like him. Not for anything he did — just his presence. You know that strange irritation someone’s aura gives you, even when they’re doing nothing wrong? That was him. For me.
So when Krishna said Arjun would be joining us because one of our teammates fell sick, I smiled politely. Inside? I cursed our car’s seating capacity.
Anu, on the other hand, was shocked. But in that teen-drama kind of way. “I didn’t even get ready properly!” she whispered, cheeks red, eyes wide.
That’s how I found out she liked him. She told me first — proudly, nervously — as if she'd just confessed her biggest secret. And there I was, still wondering what on earth she liked about that man.
The journey began with music and madness. We were laughing, teasing, fighting over songs and snacks. Halfway through, Arjun turned to Anu, who was speaking non-stop and said — “You should be more like Indhu… quiet and calm.”
The car went silent. My team stared at him like he’d just said the Earth is flat. Me? Quiet? If only he knew I could talk a rock to sleep.
But I let it pass — partly amused, partly smug. Let him enjoy the illusion.
We stopped at a roadside restaurant to eat. That’s when something… shifted. Without asking, Arjun served me food. Just like that. No show, no words. Just a soft gesture.
He then began talking — about his childhood, his small-town life, the struggles, the funny stories. I saw a different version of him — raw, human, not arrogant, just... private.
That’s when the soft corner formed. Quiet. Unexpected. Slightly uncomfortable. I still didn’t like him. But I didn’t dislike him anymore either.
Meanwhile, Anu was in full-action mode.
She tried to sit beside him, serve him food, pass him tissue, recommend dishes. He nodded, smiled — confused but polite. The signs were there. He wasn’t interested. But Anu… she waited. Every glance, every move… hoping something would click.
After dinner, we continued our journey. The laughter returned… until the car gave up.
Broken in the middle of the night. No signal. No lights. No clue what to do.
Everyone was panicking — some on calls that didn’t connect, some talking to a local man who offered help. The nearest village had a rental car — but it would take two hours.
We debated staying at a hotel nearby, or returning home. But eventually, we decided to wait.
Everyone was tired. I quietly slipped back into the car and rested. Maybe I was overwhelmed. Or maybe I just didn’t want to watch Anu’s silent love story anymore.
That’s when it happened.
The car door opened gently. I looked up, and there was Arjun.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard.
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up.
“Don’t worry. We’ve arranged everything. New car’s on its way. Just rest, okay?”
He didn’t stay long. He just looked at me with eyes that weren’t confused… just kind. Steady. Certain.
And I — who once found his presence annoying — found comfort in it.
I don’t know what Anu felt when she saw us talk later. I don’t even know if she saw anything at all.
But I know this: She waited for a spark that never came. He watched someone else entirely. And I… I just wondered.
Wondered how feelings quietly shift, how impressions break, and how even silence can feel loud.
