I stood at the front of the classroom, surveying my group of tenth graders. Teaching English to these young minds was always a highlight of my day, providing a welcome escape from the chaos of my personal life.

"Alright, everyone," I began, flashing a warm smile at my students, "today we're going to focus on creative writing. Let's start by discussing some techniques to make your stories more engaging."

Aasiya, one of the brightest in the class, raised her hand eagerly.

"Yes, Aasiya?"

"Miss Naaz, can we use flashbacks in our stories?"

"Absolutely, Aasiya," I replied, nodding. "Flashbacks can add depth to your characters and provide important backstory. Just make sure they flow naturally with the rest of your narrative."

Najma, seated next to Aasiya, leaned forward. "What about dialogue? How do we make it sound realistic?"

"Great question, Najma," I said. "Dialogue should reflect the way people actually speak. It should reveal your characters' personalities and advance the plot. Remember to keep it concise and avoid unnecessary filler words."

Jamal, always curious, piped up next. "Miss, what if our story has a lot of action? How do we keep it exciting without overwhelming the reader?"

I chuckled softly. "That's a common challenge, Jamal. The key is to balance action with quieter moments. Use short, punchy sentences during intense scenes to create a sense of urgency, and longer, more descriptive sentences during calmer moments."

Imran, who usually preferred to observe, surprised me by speaking up. "Miss Naaz, can we include our personal experiences in our stories?"

"Definitely, Imran," I encouraged him. "Drawing from your own life can make your writing more authentic and relatable. Just remember to respect the privacy of others and use discretion when sharing personal details."

As the class progressed, we delved into various writing techniques, with the students eagerly participating and sharing their thoughts. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and for a while, I was able to forget the turmoil outside these walls.

After class, as the students packed their bags and prepared to leave, Aasiya approached me. "Miss Naaz, thank you for today's lesson. It really helped me understand how to improve my story."

She wants to be an author. Like me. And those other students who requested me to give them some advice to improve their writing skills.

"I'm glad to hear that, Aasiya," I said, smiling. "Keep practicing, and don't be afraid to experiment with different techniques."

Najma joined her, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, today's class was really useful. Thanks, Miss."

"You're welcome, Najma. Keep up the great work," I replied, feeling a sense of fulfillment.

As I gathered my own things and prepared to leave, a sudden wave of nervousness washed over me. I had managed to push thoughts of Siddique and the recent turmoil to the back of my mind during class, but now they came rushing back.

Stepping outside, I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. The memory of our confrontation and the embarrassing misunderstanding still stung. I knew I needed to find a way to resolve things, but I wasn't sure how. I wasn't ready for it.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the figure standing near the entrance until I heard Shafiq's voice. "Naaz."

I looked up, surprised to see him there. "Shafiq? What are you doing here?"

Shafiq shifted uncomfortably before speaking. "I wanted to talk to you about Siddique. Is he still bothering you?"

I felt a surge of anger at his words. "Mind your own business, Shafiq. And don't you dare talk badly about Siddique. He's my friend. Our issues are between us, and you have no right to poke your nose into them."

Shafiq's face hardened, but he quickly tried to regain his composure. "I'm just concerned about you, Naaz. Siddique's behavior was out of line, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Your concern is misplaced," I retorted sharply. "Siddique might have acted impulsively that day, but he's never deliberately hurt me. You, on the other hand, seem more interested in making yourself look better than him."

Shafiq sighed, his defensiveness melting into a look of genuine sincerity. "Naaz, I like you. I've liked you for a long time. I know this might come as a shock, but I care about you deeply. I can't stand the thought of you being unhappy."

His confession left me stunned. "What? Shafiq, this is... unexpected."

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "Please, just consider my feelings. I know you are not with anyone right now. I promise I can make you happy. Just give me a chance."

I took a step back, trying to process everything. "Shafiq, I'm sorry, but I can't. This isn't about whether I have someone or not. I don't feel that way about you. I value our friendship, but that's all it is."

His expression turned from hopeful to heartbroken. "Please, Naaz. Just think about it. You deserve someone who truly cares for you."

I shook my head firmly. "No, Shafiq. I won't reconsider. Siddique might be a lot of things, but he's honest with his feelings. And so am I. I can't give you fake hope. I'm sorry."

Shafiq's face fell, but he managed a weak smile. "I understand. I just... I had to try."

"I appreciate your honesty," I said, trying to be gentle yet firm. "But this is not something I can entertain. Please, don't bring this up again."

With that, I turned and walked away, feeling a mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and a hint of sadness for Shafiq. He might have had good intentions, but his timing and approach were all wrong.

As I walked, I couldn't help but think about Siddique and the complicated web of emotions surrounding our relationship. If anything, this encounter with Shafiq made me realize how important it was to confront my feelings head-on, not just for my sake, but for Siddique's as well.

After my heated exchange with Shafiq, I decided it was best to head straight home. I managed to get a ride, and as I walked up to our front door, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

"Welcome home, Naaz," Mom greeted me with a warm smile as I stepped inside. "Go freshen up and change quickly, I'll give you some snacks to eat. You might be hungry."

"Yes, Mom," I replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm. I headed to my room, feeling the weight of the day's events. Laziness took over as I moved sluggishly, wishing I could just collapse onto my bed and forget everything.

Once in my room, I stripped off my clothes and headed to the bathroom. The cold shower was a small comfort, washing away some of the stress and tension. I quickly changed into something comfortable—a loose t-shirt and soft pajama pants—then flopped onto my bed, feeling utterly drained.

Grabbing my phone, I started scrolling through my social media, trying to distract myself from the turmoil inside me. As I mindlessly scrolled through posts and pictures, my mind kept drifting back to Shafiq's words and Siddique's intense gaze.

I sighed, feeling the weight of confusion and frustration. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

A message notification popped up, and I instinctively checked it, hoping for a distraction. It was from one of my classmates, Aisha, sharing a funny meme. I smiled faintly and replied with a laughing emoji, grateful for the small moment of levity.

"Naaz, snacks ready!" Mom called from the kitchen.

"Coming, Mom!" I shouted back, reluctant to leave the comfort of my bed. I took a deep breath, trying to push all my complicated feelings aside, at least for now.

With one last glance at my phone, I set it aside and got up, ready to face the evening with my family. As I made my way to the dining room, I resolved to take things one step at a time, hoping that somehow, everything would eventually make sense.

I headed straight to the dining room where mom had laid out evening snacks. The aroma of freshly made samosas and chai filled the air, a small comfort after the eventful day I had.

As I settled down, Mom looked at me with a smile. "Naaz, we're invited for dinner at Siddique's place tonight."

Her words jolted me from my thoughts. Dinner at Siddique's place? Just what I needed—a confrontation I wasn’t ready for. I felt a knot form in my stomach.

I nodded, trying to appear unfazed. "Sure, Mom. I'll get ready by 7:30."

She seemed satisfied with my response and turned back to her tea. But my mind was already racing. What will I do when I see him? What will I say if he brings up his feelings again? I felt a wave of panic wash over me. I didn’t know how I felt about him. Romance and marriage were far from my mind. My focus was on my studies and future career, not on falling in love.

Pushing these troubling thoughts aside, I forced a smile. "Tea is amazing."

I quickly finished my snacks and headed back to my room. I needed some time to clear my head. I lay on my bed, scrolling through my phone, trying to distract myself. After half an hour, I got up to get ready for the dinner.

I chose a maroon red salwar kameez, a color that always made me feel confident. I did light makeup—just enough to enhance my features. A touch of red lipstick to match my outfit, a bit of mascara to bring out my eyes. I let my long black hair fall freely over my shoulders. For accessories, I opted for diamond stud earrings and a delicate gold bracelet, along with my favorite wristwatch. A spritz of my favorite perfume, and I was ready.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smile. The maroon salwar kameez suited me well. But then, my smile faded as Siddique's words from the last time we met came rushing back.

"You're looking so beautiful in green, Naaz. You always look beautiful in green. waka'anak li,"

A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the intensity in his eyes when he said that. I had looked up those last words—"waka'anak li"—and discovered they meant "like you're mine." His words were filled with possessiveness and authority. It was as if he had already claimed me as his own.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to shake off the unease. Tonight was just dinner. I had to keep reminding myself of that. I could handle this. I had to.

With a final glance in the mirror, I smiled, albeit a bit nervously, and headed out to face the evening.

**

We arrived at Siddique's house and were greeted warmly by Rizwan and Amina aunty at the door. Amina aunty enveloped me in a warm hug, her familiar scent bringing a sense of comfort.

"Naaz, my dear! It's been too long," she said, her eyes crinkling with a genuine smile.

"Yes, Amina aunty. It's always a pleasure to be here," I replied, smiling back.

Rizwan grinned at me. "Hey, Naaz! Come on, let's go to my room. I have so much to tell you."

I glanced around, subtly looking for Siddique, but he was nowhere to be seen. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. At least for now, I could avoid any awkward confrontations. But there was also a strange pang of disappointment. Pushing it aside, I followed Rizwan.

As we walked through the familiar hallways, Rizwan chatted animatedly about his medical studies and the latest case he was studying. We entered his room, a cozy space filled with textbooks and anatomical models. It was always a comfortable place to hang out.

"Sit, sit!" Rizwan said, motioning to a beanbag chair in the corner. "I've got this new study technique. You've got to see it!"

I laughed and settled into the chair. "Alright, show me what you’ve got."

He fired up his laptop and started explaining the study method. As he talked, I tried to focus on his words, but my mind kept drifting back to Siddique. Where was he? Why hadn't he come to greet us? Was he at work? Might be.

"Naaz, are you even listening?" Rizwan's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Sorry, Riz. I guess I'm just a bit tired," I said, giving him an apologetic smile.

He looked at me, concerned. "Is everything okay? You seem distracted."

"I'm fine," I reassured him. "Just a lot on my mind lately."

Rizwan nodded, accepting my vague explanation. "Well, if you ever need to talk, you know I'm here."

"Thanks, Riz. I appreciate it," I said, genuinely touched by his offer.

We spent the next half an hour chatting and discussing his medical studies, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. It was nice to just relax and enjoy a moment of normalcy. But in the back of my mind, I knew that eventually, I would have to face Siddique.

A sudden ring of the doorbell startled me, and I immediately knew it must be Siddique. Anxiety twisted in my stomach, and my heart skipped a beat. I strained to listen as I heard the door open and Siddique’s deep voice greeting my parents with a warm salam.

"Wa'alaikum salam, Siddique," my father replied.

"Siddique, my boy! How have you been?" my mother chimed in, her voice filled with affection. She loves him a lot.

"I'm good, Uncle, Aunty. It’s so good to see you both," Siddique said, his voice polite and steady.

Their conversation continued for some time, filled with the usual pleasantries. Then I heard Siddique excuse himself, "I’ll just go freshen up and change."

"Sure." Dad said, understanding.

As the footsteps receded, I realized I had been holding up my breath. I let it out slowly, trying to calm the nerves that were now on high alert.

"Naaz, are you okay?" Rizwan’s voice pulled me back to the present. He was looking at me with concern.

"Yeah, everything’s fine," I managed to say, forcing a smile.

Rizwan nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. "Alright. So, where was I? Oh, right! My latest crush. Sadia."

I chuckled at his sudden shift. "Sadia? Tell me more."

"She's in my medical college. She's absolutely brilliant. Top of our class and so dedicated. And she has these incredible hazel eyes. I swear, I get lost in them every time she talks," Rizwan said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Sounds serious," I teased. "Does she know you exist, or are you just a silent admirer?"

He laughed, "Oh, she knows I exist. We’ve had a few study sessions together. She even laughed at one of my jokes once. I think I have a chance."

"Riz, you’re hopeless," I said, shaking my head with a smile.

"Hey, hope is all I’ve got! Besides, you never know what might happen. I mean, look at you and brother..." His voice trailed off as he realized he might have touched a sensitive topic.

I was surprised that he knows what happened between me and Siddique. They always share each other what's happening in their life. Bros.

"Riz, let's stick to Sadia for now," I said, hoping to avoid any discussion about Siddique.

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But seriously, she’s amazing. I’m thinking of asking her out after our summer vacation."

"Good luck with that. Just be yourself, and I'm sure she'll see how great you are," I encouraged him.

As Rizwan continued to talk about his medical college and Sadia, I tried to focus on his words. But the anticipation of seeing Siddique again loomed over me. The thoughts of his confession and what it meant for us were hard to shake off. Yet, for now, I was grateful for Rizwan's cheerful distraction.

Soon after, we were called for dinner. Rizwan and I made our way to the dining table where everyone was already seated. I scanned the room quickly but couldn’t find Siddique. Amina Aunty began serving everyone's favorite biryani with beef kebab and chicken roast, and egg curry the aroma filling the room.

"Here you go, Naaz, have some biryani," Amina Aunty said with a warm smile as she placed a generous serving on my plate.

"Thank you, Amina Aunty," I replied, my voice tinged with distraction.

Everyone started eating, and the room buzzed with the sounds of clinking cutlery and light conversation. My mind, however, kept wandering towards Siddique’s locked room. Why wasn't he here for dinner? The question gnawed at me, and I found myself constantly glancing at his door.

"Naaz, is something wrong?" Amina Aunty asked, noticing my distracted state.

"Oh, no, Aunty. I was just wondering where Siddique is," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Siddique already had dinner outside," she explained. "He won’t be joining us tonight. You should eat, dear."

I was surprised to know that he had dinner outside when his mother cooked such delicious food for us. His favorite biryani was here. Didn't he knew about it? Or is he just trying to avoid me? Whatever it was I was sad I don't know why. I was a confused soul, who doesn't know what she wants in life.

"Oh, I see," I murmured, nodding absentmindedly. A feeling of disappointment settled in my chest, and I realized my face had probably given away my sulked mood.

"Is everything alright, Naaz?" my mother asked, looking at me with concern.

"Yes, Mom. Everything's fine," I replied, forcing a smile. "I’ll eat now."

I picked up my fork and spoon and started eating, trying to focus on the delicious food in front of me. But the thought of Siddique avoiding dinner with us lingered in my mind. It was strange not to have him there, and his absence was more noticeable than I had expected.

••

Thank you ❤️