The Secret Note in Chapter 5
She opened the ancient poetry book, and a folded piece of paper fell out. It was written in faded blue ink: 'Meet me behind the old banyan tree at 4 PM.'
Meera had borrowed the book a hundred times before. It was the most dog-eared volume in the college library — a collection of Faiz Ahmed Faiz poems that nobody was supposed to love but everyone did secretly.
The note was not there last week. She was certain.
She looked around the empty library. Afternoon light cut through dusty windows. The librarian, old Mr. Sharma, was asleep behind his desk as usual.
She checked the handwriting. Careful. Deliberate. Someone who wrote with intention.
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Behind the old banyan tree. That was between the library and the canteen — a spot where groups gathered to debate, gossip, fall in love in slow motion.
At 3:58, she found herself walking there. Just to see. Out of curiosity, she told herself.
Karan was already there, leaning against the enormous trunk, looking nervous for the first time in the three years she had known him.
"You came," he said.
"I was going to the canteen anyway."
"You hate the canteen food."
She crossed her arms. "How long has that note been in that book?"
He looked at the ground. "Two months."
"Two months?!"
"I kept borrowing it back before you could find it. I wasn't ready." He looked up. "I'm still not ready. But I'm running out of excuses to be in the poetry section."
Meera looked at this boy she had sat next to in every lecture for three years. This boy who made her laugh without trying and argued about films with genuine passion and always, always saved her the window seat.
"Karan," she said.
"Yes?"
"You're an idiot."
"I know."
"Ask me properly."
He smiled. The nervous look melted entirely.
"Meera. Will you let me spend the rest of college being a complete idiot next to you?"
She uncrossed her arms.
"Fine. But you're buying the tea."
