Nafiz stood his ground, his eyes darting between Mallika's defensive posture and the quiet girl standing beside her. He forced a mask of skepticism over his features to hide the tremor in his soul. "I always knew you to be an only child, Mallika," Nafiz said, his voice laced with a mixture of genuine surprise and a hint of provocation. "So, where exactly did this sister appear from? Did you find her in a storybook?"
Mallika, never one to let her pride be bruised, raised her chin and projected her voice so the entire surrounding area could hear. "Oh, please! Just because I don't share the same womb with someone doesn't mean I can't have a sister. Ever heard of cousins? Paternal, maternal—does the concept of an extended family confuse your brilliant academic brain? Honestly, Nafiz, you talk as if the world revolves only around what you know!"
Nafiz let out a short, artificial laugh, the kind used to mask a deeper tension. He couldn't resist throwing a sharp jab. "I was just making sure. With that temper of yours, I thought maybe you were planning to kidnap her and sell her off to some distant land!"
That was the breaking point. Mallika's face turned a violent shade of crimson, and she practically vibrated with rage. "What?! You think I look like a human trafficker? You arrogant brat! Just stay right there—I am going to end you today!"
As Mallika prepared to charge toward Nafiz like a storm cloud ready to burst, Mahir decided to add fuel to the fire. He grinned widely, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Who are you going to kill, Mallika? Look at yourself! With that expression, you look exactly like Reena Khan, the legendary movie villain! No one in their right mind would trust you. Where did you even find this poor, innocent girl, you a small, bony fish?"
The nickname 'bony fish' was the final straw. Mallika's fury reached its zenith. She breathed heavily, her eyes narrowed into slits of pure venom. "You monsters! Who are you calling a bony fish? I swear, none of you are going home in one piece today!"
Amidst the chaotic shouting and the boys' relentless teasing, Mishti stood like a silent statue. She didn't say a word, but the corners of her lips twitched with a ghost of a smile she desperately tried to hide. To her, this world of Nafiz and his friends was loud, messy, and strangely vibrant—a stark contrast to the quiet, disciplined life she was used to.
Just as the argument reached its peak, Anuj, Mallika's boyfriend, made a dramatic entrance from the shadows. He looked at his friends with a theatrical sigh of disappointment. "Why are you all pestering my personal Serpent Goddess? Don't you know that once the Goddess is displeased, her bite leaves no room for escape? You're playing with a cobra, my friends!"
The comparison of his own girlfriend to a venomous deity sent the group into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Ahin, ever the one to pour ghee on a raging fire, gasped for air through his laughter. "Bother, 'Serpent Goddess' sounds too old-fashioned. It doesn't suit her ferocity. Your Mallika isn't just a goddess—she's a full-blown a mythical shape-shifting serpent! You never know when she'll hiss or who she'll strike next!"
Being humiliated by her own boyfriend in front of her rivals was the ultimate insult for Mallika. She couldn't take it anymore. Without a single word, she turned on her heel, her footsteps echoing with the rhythm of her simmering anger as she marched toward the other end of the campus.
Anuj realized instantly that his joke had backfired spectacularly. Panic replaced his smug grin, and he wasted no time in sprinting after his beloved, shouting apologies into the wind to soothe her ego.
Suddenly, the area became hollow. The echoes of his friends' laughter still lingered in the stagnant midday air, but Nafiz's world had narrowed down to a single point: Mishti. Even though Mallika had stormed off, Mishti remained, standing alone as if waiting for a cue. This was the moment Nafiz had prayed for and feared in equal measure.
With a subtle flick of his hand, Nafiz signaled his friends to leave. Understanding the gravity of the shift in atmosphere, the boys backed away silently, disappearing toward the gate. The campus, once vibrant with the sounds of a prize-giving ceremony, was now draped in a haunting, heavy silence. Breaking that stillness, Nafiz spoke her name again, his voice lower and more stable this time—"Mishti!"
Hearing her name uttered in that deep, resonant baritone felt like a jolt of electricity through Mishti's entire being. The velvet gravity of his voice mesmerized her, leaving her limbs feeling heavy and numb. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words were trapped behind a wall of sudden shyness. It felt as if an invisible hand was tightening around her throat, making it impossible to breathe normally. She could hear the frantic, irregular drumming of her own heart in her ears. A sudden, cool breeze swept through the campus, making her lips tremble involuntarily.
After a long pause, gathering every ounce of her courage, she whispered back—"Yes, brother..."
The word 'Brother' hit Nafiz like a physical blow, yet he couldn't help but marvel at the melody of her voice. How can a human voice be this soft? he wondered. Why is this dusky girl turning my carefully constructed world into ruins?
Struggling to maintain his composure and act like a senior student, he asked a simple, mundane question. "What grade are you in?"
Mishti looked down at her feet, her voice barely audible. "I'll be sitting for the SSC exams this year."
The revelation burned through Nafiz's heart like acid. He had come here today with a firm resolve—that no matter the cost, he would pour his heart out. He didn't want to carry the agonizing weight of that month-long wound anymore. But hearing how young she truly was brought a new, terrifying reality to light.
Nafiz's mind raced. If I tell her how I feel now, will I ruin her focus? She is just a child standing at the doorstep of her first big exam. If I unleash this storm of emotion on her innocent heart, will she ever be able to find her peace again? The weight of responsibility suddenly felt heavier than the weight of his love. His head began to throb, and his eloquent tongue, which had won countless debates, suddenly felt useless. Is this what the first real affection—or perhaps love—feels like? A paralyzing fear of hurting the person you desire most?
Nafiz, the boy who lived by logic and scoffed at the irrational, was ready to discard every principle to look into her eyes and say, "I love you." But fate, it seemed, was not in the mood for a confession.
The silence was shattered by Mallika's sharp, piercing scream from the distance. "Mishti! Come here, quickly! It's getting late, we need to head home!"
Despite the call, Mishti's feet remained rooted to the spot. She stood there, her eyes locked onto the man before her, filled with an unspoken, desperate expectation. She was waiting for him to say something—anything—to give a name to the tension between them. But Nafiz remained a silent silhouette against the afternoon sun.
A wave of hurt and pride washed over Mishti. Nafiz Bhaiya, why does looking at you hurt so much? she thought bitterly. Why did we have to meet again? Bhagwan, can't you see how much this is burning me? The first embers of a teenage girl's love were consuming her from within, leaving her breathless.
Nafiz couldn't stand the intensity of the moment any longer. He didn't have the strength to say goodbye. He turned and walked away with rapid, hurried steps. Behind him, a pair of melancholic eyes followed his retreating figure until he disappeared. His friends were gone, the crowds were gone, and only an unresolved, echoing ache remained in the empty campus.
The walk home was a blur. Mallika and Mishti walked side by side, but while Mallika's body was moving toward their house, her mind was stuck in the quiet corner of that campus.
As they walked, Mallika's curiosity flared up again. "Seriously, Mishti, tell me the truth. How on earth do you know Nafiz? He's not exactly the social type."
Mishti's lips parted to answer, but before a sound could escape, Mallika's phone buzzed in her bag. It was a message from Anuj, pleading with her to meet him at the college field immediately. Mallika groaned, frustration etching lines on her forehead. She looked at Mishti, hesitating. "Mishti, can you make it home alone, sister? I need to go deal with that idiot."
Mishti replied softly, her voice devoid of its usual spark. "It's okay, sister. I can go."
Mallika reached into her purse and tucked a two-hundred-taka note into Mishti's palm. Her voice softened into something genuinely maternal. "Take a rickshaw from here, don't you dare walk all the way in this heat. And listen, buy that vanilla ice cream you like on the way. And get some good chocolates for Turjo."
Despite her outward arrogance and sharp tongue, Mallika's love for Mishti was pure and fierce. She loved the girl as if they shared the same blood. It was a reminder that love doesn't always require a biological bond; it only requires a transparent, selfless heart—a heart that existed even beneath Mallika's hardened, cynical shell.
After Mallika left, Mishti stood alone on the sidewalk, the crowd flowing past her like a river. The two-hundred-taka note shimmered in the harsh afternoon light, but Mishti's thoughts were far away, anchored to a silent boy in a deserted campus.
~ To be continued ~