Anaya and Aarav had been a part of each other's lives for as long as they could remember. Their parents, best friends since college, had practically raised them together. From baby photos in matching onesies to joint birthday parties where they blew out candles side by side, Anaya and Aarav weren't just friends—they were a constant in each other's worlds.
Their friendship was the kind that didn't need words to explain. On rainy days, they'd sit side by side on the porch, watching droplets race down the railing, wrapped in a shared silence that only true comfort could bring. Every summer, their families took trips to the same hill station. They had their secret hiking trail, their hidden snack stash, and a tree trunk carved with their initials—a tradition they'd started when they were nine.
Aarav was the loud to her quiet, the spontaneous to her careful. He made everything feel light. When she got nervous before a school presentation, he'd whisper terrible jokes in her ear just to see her smile. When she tripped and fell in front of the entire school once, he was the first to drop beside her and dramatically fake an injury, making the crowd burst out laughing and forget her embarrassment.
She told herself it was nothing. Just friendship. Just Aarav being Aarav.
But over time, those moments stayed with her longer. Her heart would skip a beat at the sound of his laugh. She'd find herself watching him when he wasn't looking, memorizing the curve of his smile, the way his hair always fell messily across his forehead.
She started noticing things—how he bit his lip when he was deep in thought, how he always kept a spare band-aid in his wallet because she once cut her finger and cried like a child. All those little things made her fall for him, piece by piece.
She hadn't meant for it to happen.
But she did. And she fell hard.
The only place she dared admit her feelings was in her diary. It was her sanctuary, a quiet little world where she could be honest—where every blush, every laugh, every heartache had a place.
she wrote. In the pages of her floral-covered diary, she let it all out. The stolen glances, the aching what-ifs, the dreams that felt too fragile to say aloud. Her diary became her secret world, one where she could admit what her lips were too afraid to whisper.
It was just another ordinary Tuesday. Anaya had been running late, her hands full of textbooks and a half-eaten sandwich as she rushed through the corridor. In her hurry, she didn't notice that her diary had slipped from the stack and fallen beneath her desk.
She didn't realize it was missing until it was too late.
By the time the lunch bell rang, the air around her felt… different.
Eyes followed her in the hallway. People whispered. Some smiled knowingly. Others raised their brows in surprise. A group of girls giggled when she passed by, nudging one another like they were in on some secret.
Her stomach twisted. A chill crept down her spine. Something was wrong.
Then she saw it. Her diary. Clutched in the hands of one of the boys from her class—open.
Her breath caught. Her world tilted.
He didn't say a word. He just handed it to her with a smirk, as if he'd just read the juiciest plot twist in a teen drama.
She wanted to scream. To cry. To run away.
Instead, she clutched the diary to her chest and walked away, heart hammering in her chest.
Within an hour, her private thoughts were school gossip.
"She likes Aarav?"
"She's been in love with him for years?"
"Does he know?"
Each whisper felt like a dagger. The walls of the school felt like they were closing in on her. She kept her head down, her steps quick, but no matter where she went, she felt exposed, humiliated, raw.
She barely tasted her lunch, barely heard the bell ring. Her world had cracked open, and she was standing in the middle of it, trying not to fall apart.
But the final blow didn't come from the stares or the whispers—it came after school.
She spotted Aarav walking alone near the basketball court, heading toward the school gate.
She hesitated only a second.
Then she walked up to him, her legs trembling with every step. Her fingers clutched her bag tighter than necessary, and her throat was dry, but she kept going—because if the whole school knew, she wanted him to hear it from her.
"Aarav," she said softly.
He turned, his brows furrowed the second he saw her. "Anaya…"
"I know you've heard," she said, her voice cracking just a little. "About the diary."
His jaw clenched. "Everyone's been talking."
"I didn't want you to find out like this," she said, her voice quiet but steady. But I won't lie. It's true."
Aarav blinked, stunned. "Wait… what?"
She looked into his eyes. "It's true, Aarav. I have feelings for you."
His face twisted in disbelief, his hands instinctively going to his hoodie pockets. "Anaya… how can you have feelings for me? We're friends. Best friends. Say it's not true."
His words weren't harsh, but they were heavy. As if her feelings were a betrayal.
"I wish I could," she said honestly. "I wish I could just turn it off and pretend I never felt anything more than friendship. But I can't."
He ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "I don't get it. You never said anything. We've always been… us."
"That's because I was scared," she admitted. Scared it would ruin what we had. And maybe it has."
Silence settled between them, thick and suffocating.
Aarav finally said, "Anaya… I don't feel that way about you."
She gave a small nod, her heart aching. "I understand."
And with that, they parted ways—no harsh words, no promises, just silence and uncertainty.
But deep down, Anaya knew—
Things between them could never go back to the way they were.