The next day, Kyra reached the cycling ground at almost the same time as yesterday.
The winter evening felt slightly colder than usual—soft wind brushing against her sweater, the sky turning orange with strokes of fading pink. She came a little early on purpose, though she never admitted this to herself. It was just… something in her heart wanted to know if the boy from yesterday would come again.
Her friends weren't there yet, so she waited near the usual corner, holding her cycle by the handle. She wasn't impatient, but her eyes kept drifting toward the road from where Aiden had appeared the day before. She tried convincing herself that she wasn't waiting for him, but the tiny tremor inside her chest told another story.
She took a deep breath and looked down at her shoes.
Should I talk to him today?
Would it feel weird?
Does he even want to talk?
The thoughts circled like a small storm she couldn't control.
Soon her friends arrived, laughing loudly about something that happened at school. Kyra tried to act normal, joining their conversation, but her attention kept slipping away every few seconds. Every time she heard a cycle's sound or the movement of tires on the road, her heartbeat picked up, as if expecting something.
And then it happened.
A familiar blue cycle entered the lane.
It was him.
Aiden rode slowly, Evan beside him, both talking casually. But something about Aiden stood out—his quiet posture, the steady way he held the handle, the soft concentration on his face. Even though there were more teens cycling around, Kyra could spot him instantly.
She tried not to look.
But she did.
And the moment she did, as if drawn by some invisible thread, Aiden turned slightly and looked back too.
Just a second.
Just a flicker.
But enough for her breath to pause.
Their eyes met—soft, quick, uncertain.
Kyra felt her throat tighten in a strange, unfamiliar way. She looked away first, pretending to adjust her hair. But that one moment stayed with her, almost echoing in her mind.
Aiden didn't stop.
He didn't smile either.
He simply continued cycling with Evan, moving past them until he was just a silhouette merging with the soft evening light.
Her friends kept talking. Kyra kept nodding.
But her mind… her mind was replaying that single glance over and over.
Did he recognize me properly?
Was that eye contact intentional? Or just random?
Should I try talking to him tomorrow? Or is that too strange?
Her heart felt tight in a way she wasn't used to.
After cycling for an hour, she returned home. She showered, changed into warm clothes, and sat on her bed with her hair half-wet, drops of water still sliding down near her ear.
She opened Instagram.
His name sat there in her DM list—silent, untouched.
For the next ten minutes, she debated with herself.
Should she say something? Should she wait? Should she pretend she didn't notice him today?
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard but didn't move.
Finally, after a long quiet moment, she typed:
Kyra:
"You know… you walk right past me every day now. Why don't you ever stop and say hi?"
She didn't send it, not yet.
She read it again. Deleted it.
Typed again.
Stopped again.
It felt silly. It felt bold. It felt scary.
After three full minutes, she finally wrote something else—something lighter.
Kyra:
"Hey, did you recognize me that day while cycling?"
This time she hit Send.
A small bubble of panic rose in her chest. She locked her phone and threw it away on the bed as if it were dangerous to hold.
Two minutes later, the phone buzzed.
Aiden had replied.
She picked it up slowly, pretending she wasn't excited, even though her heartbeat clearly disagreed.
Aiden:
"Yeah. I did. I knew it was you from the first look."
Kyra stared at her screen for a moment, feeling something soft spread inside her.
She typed back:
Kyra:
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
There was a small pause—thirty seconds maybe, but it felt longer.
Then the reply came:
Aiden:
"You're always with your friends. I didn't want to make it awkward. I thought maybe you won't like it if I stopped suddenly."
Kyra blinked.
Cycling…
Friends…
Awkward…
Everything he said made sense, yet it surprised her. She never really thought someone like him would think so carefully about such small things.
She replied slowly, her fingers moving with more confidence now:
Kyra:
"It wouldn't be awkward."
Aiden saw the message quickly this time.
Aiden:
"Still… I didn't want to disturb you."
The way he wrote it—simple, thoughtful, steady—made Kyra pause. She imagined his expression while typing that. Calm face, eyes lowered, maybe a small hint of hesitation.
It made her chest feel strange again.
She typed:
Kyra:
"You can say hi if you want. I mean… it's okay."
There was no overthinking this time. She just sent it.
Aiden replied after a moment:
Aiden:
"Okay."
Just one word.
But that one word felt like a quiet promise.
---
Later that night, she stepped outside to get some fresh air. The winter breeze touched her cheeks, and she hugged her arms around herself. She didn't know why, but everything around her felt different—lighter, warmer.
She replayed every small detail of the day:
How Aiden had looked back.
How their eyes met.
How he explained his reason so simply.
How he didn't avoid the conversation.
How he treated her like someone worth noticing.
None of it was dramatic.
But each small moment felt important in its own way.
Kyra wasn't sure what this feeling was. It wasn't love. It wasn't infatuation. It was something quieter… something deep that moved slowly, like dawn rising across a calm sky.
And maybe that was the exact reason it felt so real.
When she finally went back inside, she glanced at her phone again.
No new message.
And yet… she smiled.
Tomorrow would come.
And maybe, tomorrow, he would actually say hi.
Something told her that the story between them had only just begun.