For the first time

It was a regular day of my life.

The final bell rang, and like always, the classroom exploded into noise. Chairs scraped against the floor. Bags zipped. Someone shouted from the back. The usual chaos.

For everyone else, it was just another day.

For me too… or at least, that’s what I thought.

I walked out of the institute with my hands in my pockets, my mind empty after hours of studying. The evening sun was low, painting everything in a golden shade. Students rushed past me toward the gate.

And then—

“White!”

My steps froze.

Did someone just call my name?

I turned slowly.

For first time, a girl had called my name.

She was standing a few steps away, slightly out of breath as if she had hurried. I was sure she wasn’t from my coaching institute. I would have remembered a face like that.

She looked… different. Calm, but nervous. Confident, yet hesitant.

“Do you have a minute?” she asked. “Can we talk?”

My brain stopped working.

Why is she talking to me?

“Sure,” I heard myself say.

My friends were staring at me like they had just witnessed a miracle.

“You guys go,” I said . “I’ll catch up later.”

Their expressions clearly said we will not forget this, but they left anyway.

We walked toward the side road near the institute. It was quieter there. A few dry leaves moved with the wind. For some reason, my heartbeat felt louder than the traffic.

She looked at me carefully.

“Don’t you remember me? I was your classmate in school.”

School.

Uniforms. Morning assembly. Old classrooms.

I searched my memory. There were many faces… but hers was unclear.

After a moment, I nodded. “Yes… I remember.”

Did I actually remember? Or was I just pretending so it wouldn’t be awkward?

“But I don’t know your name,” I admitted. “We never talked before.”

She smiled.

“Yes, that’s true. But don’t worry, I know your name.”

“You do?”

“I’ve seen you standing in front of your institute many times,” she said. “So I thought… maybe I should talk to you.”

For first time, some girl wanted to talk with me.

“Oh… okay,” I replied like an idiot.

She stopped walking and faced me properly.

“My name is Yellow,” she said softly. “Don’t forget my name again. It was nice to meet you.”

I had never known her name in the first place to forget it.

But I nodded.

“It was nice to meet you too.”

That evening felt strange.

When I reached home, I kept thinking about it.

Why did she talk to me? Why did she notice me? Was it just random?

The next day, she texted me first.

“Did you reach home safely?”

And just like that… it started.

We began meeting more often. Sometimes after class. Sometimes she would “coincidentally” be nearby. We exchanged numbers properly. Our chats became longer.

At first, it was simple.

“What are you studying?” “Do you still talk to your old school friends?” “Do you remember this teacher?”

But slowly, conversations became comfortable.

Too comfortable.

Our friendship was getting good.

One evening, we sat again on the same side road. The sky was orange and purple, the kind of sky that makes everything feel softer than it actually is.

“I didn’t like my school that much,” I said. “But I do remember my friends. That was the only good part.”

She looked at the sunset quietly.

“Those were very good days for me,” she said. “Do you remember Red?”

Red.

Of course I remembered him.

He was my only best friend.

Good at sports. Good at studies. Good at talking. Teachers liked him. Students respected him. Many girls had crush on him.

Standing beside him, I always felt… average.

“Yes,” I replied. “He was my only best friend.”

She hesitated for a second.

“I know,” she said softly. “And I really liked him so much.”

Something inside me shifted.

It wasn’t pain.

Not yet.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that,” I said calmly.

Of course I didn’t know. He never told me.

She took a deep breath.

Her voice became more serious.

“Will you please help me get him?”

The air suddenly felt heavier.

“Can you give me his Instagram ID… and his number?”

For a few seconds, I didn’t answer.

So that’s why.

That’s why she noticed me. That’s why she talked to me. That’s why she kept meeting me.

Not because of me.

But because of him.

My chest felt strangely hollow.

I forced a small smile.

And inside, something quietly broke.

Now I was shocked.