The next morning, Aarya woke up feeling strangely heavy, as if a blanket of restlessness still clung to her even after a whole night's sleep. The fan hummed above her, moving warm air lazily around the room. She turned on her side and stared at the curtain where sunlight tried to sneak in, its rays falling in scattered patterns across the wall. For a long time, she stayed curled up, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, eyes sliding over posts and messages without really registering anything.
Then her phone buzzed.
It was a message from Priyanka:
"Don't forget, we're all meeting at Priya's house today. Don't be late!"
Aarya stared at the screen, thumb hovering, debating whether to reply. For a brief second, the thought of ignoring it tempted her—just pulling her blanket over her head and shutting the world out. But another part of her, the louder part, reminded her why they had planned this visit in the first place. Priya had been distant for weeks now, hiding something, slipping away behind her smile. If they didn't go today, she might never talk.
With a sigh, Aarya dragged herself out of bed. She pulled her hair into a loose bun, strands falling around her face, and reached for her favorite light-blue kurti the one that always felt soft against her skin, the one that gave her comfort like a hug. She stood in front of the mirror for a moment, smoothing the fabric, trying to look put together even though her insides still buzzed with uncertainty.
By the time she stepped into the living room, she had schooled her face into calm. But her father, Subhash, sitting in his usual spot with the morning newspaper, didn't miss much. His glasses had slid down his nose as he peered over the headlines.
"Papa…" Aarya began carefully, adjusting the strap of her bag.
Subhash lowered the paper slowly and gave her a look, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Wait. Why are you dressed like that? Are you… bunking school today?"
Aarya tried to play it cool, though a small grin tugged at her lips. "Yup. Not going."
The newspaper rustled as he folded it neatly and leaned forward. "And where exactly are you going, young lady? You're not even eighteen yet. Don't tell me you're sneaking off on some date."
"Papa!" Aarya laughed in disbelief. "No! I'm not going on a date. I'm just… meeting my friends."
He tilted his head, pretending to study her like a detective. "Hmm. Aru, sweety, do you want me to remind you what happens when you bunk?"
Aarya clasped her hands dramatically, slipping into full drama mode. "Papa, listen. Winter vacation starts from tomorrow anyway. One day doesn't even count! And " she leaned forward conspiratorially, "I'll bring you your favorite pyaj ki kachori on the way back. Deal?"
That softened him, but he wasn't done teasing. Subhash's mustache twitched as he tried not to smile. "Winter vacation, huh? You think you're clever. Fine. But you don't even know how to sneak out of the house properly. At least learn some skills if you're going to bunk."
"Papa, go away," she muttered, laughing as she bent to touch his feet quickly out of habit before hurrying out the door.
Outside, the August heat was already settling in. The air wrapped around her like a warm blanket, carrying the smell of frying pakoras from a nearby stall. She walked to the post office, their agreed meeting point, weaving between cycles, scooters, and rattling autos.
One by one, the group arrived Shruti first, her walk brisk and impatient as if she was already annoyed at the delay. Then Priyanka, adjusting her dupatta for the hundredth time, frowning at her phone. Only Ayush was missing.
"Typical," Shruti sighed, checking her watch. "He's always late."
And right on cue, Ayush appeared, jogging toward them, his hair messy and his smile wide. "Sorry, sorry! Blame the traffic, not me. Come on, Priya's house isn't far. We'll grab an auto."
They piled into an auto rickshaw, three of them crammed onto the backseat while Ayush climbed up front beside the driver like it was his throne.
Within minutes, Ayush had already started chatting. "Bhaiya, how long have you been driving this route? Must know all the secrets of the city, huh?" His hands moved as fast as his words, painting pictures in the air.
The driver chuckled and responded, and for a short while, the ride was filled with lightness.
Aarya leaned closer to Shruti, lowering her voice. "He's… actually really good at talking. Like, unnecessarily friendly, but it works."
Shruti smirked knowingly. "Just wait. He'll ruin it in three… two…"
And right on cue, Ayush asked, "Bhaiya, have you ever seen a ghost while driving late at night?"
The driver's smile vanished. He turned his eyes back to the road in silence.
The atmosphere dropped instantly, and Aarya clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. "I think," she whispered, "I like Ayush better when he's silent."
Shruti nodded in mock seriousness. "Exactly."
The auto finally pulled up in a quiet lane lined with modest houses, their nameplates faded and gates slightly rusted. Some children played cricket at the far end of the street, their shouts carrying in the air.
"That's the one," Ayush pointed eagerly. "Plot No. 52."
For a moment, Aarya froze at the sight of Priya's house. The gate creaked on its hinges, the paint on the walls was peeling, and all the curtains were drawn tight, shutting the house off from the world. Something about it felt closed, secretive—like it didn't want visitors.
"I should have called her first," Aarya murmured nervously. "At least let her know we're coming."
Shruti shook her head firmly. "No. If we warn her, she'll just act fine again. She'll hide it all, like always. We need to see her as she really is."
Aarya took a deep breath, gripping the strap of her bag. "Okay. Let's go."
Together, they pushed open the gate and stepped inside, each footstep heavy, each heartbeat louder than the last. Somewhere deep down, all of them already knew this visit wouldn't be as simple as knocking and smiling