The cold had settled in completely by the time school reopened after winter vacation.
The fog made everything feel slower—like time itself didn't want to return to routine.
But Ahaana didn't mind.
The fog gave her cover.
Back in her uniform, scarf wrapped carefully around the left side of her face, she walked through the school gates like she had never spoken to him. Like she had never followed him. Like she hadn't spent half of her vacation staring at a screen waiting for his reply.
Ayaan Gazi hadn't texted her again.
Not after that night at the café.
No "hey." No apology. Not even a "goodbye."
He had gone back to being the boy with perfect hair and a crowd of followers.
And she had gone back to being invisible.
Only now, it hurt more.
Before, he hadn't known her.
Now, he knew—and chose not to care.
She didn't delete the Instagram account. But she turned off notifications.
She buried the memory in layers of homework, mock tests, and polite nods in class.
But life had a cruel sense of irony.
Because now… Ayaan was noticing her.
Not online.
Not in messages.
In real life.
It started with small things.
In the assembly line, she'd catch him glancing across the field. Not staring—just quick flicks of his eyes, like he was checking if she was still there.
Once, in the corridor, their shoulders almost brushed.
He looked directly at her.
She didn't meet his gaze. She stared at the floor like it had answers.
She didn't know what it meant.
Curiosity? Guilt? Recognition?
All she knew was: she was done hoping.
Her self-esteem had dropped so low, even standing upright felt like an act.
She couldn't look him in the eye. Couldn't even smile when he passed.
She was just the chubby girl with the scar—the one who had embarrassed herself at a party.
He, on the other hand, was everything she wasn't:
Effortlessly attractive. Wildly popular. Worshipped in every classroom he entered.
Girls hung on to his every word. He let them. He flirted, laughed, basked in their attention. He had the confidence of someone who had never been rejected in his life.
That's when Ahaana made a quiet decision:
She would no longer look broken. Even if she was.
She started walking closer to Aditya, her best guy friend.
He was the only boy who had ever called her beautiful without flinching. They shared lunch, inside jokes, and long rants about exam pressure. He had no idea about her feelings for Ayaan—but he protected her in ways he didn't realize.
It didn't take long for the rumors to start.
"Are they dating?"
"Did Ahaana and Aditya get together over the break?"
"They're always holding hands in the canteen now, lol."
She didn't deny it.
Let them believe it. Let Ayaan believe it.
Because if he could pretend she didn't exist, then maybe she could pretend she never cared.
But pretending didn't erase the ache.
She still caught Ayaan watching her sometimes—longer, now. As if trying to read the fine print of a story he hadn't bothered to understand before.
Too late.
The real Ahaana had shut the doors.
Or at least… that's what she told herself.