Chapter 8: Awkward Walks and Unspoken Words

**Seven.**

Leaving the lab building, I offered to walk Meera back to her hostel.

The night air was thick with the scent of raat ki rani, and the streetlights cast long shadows on the footpath. I zipped up my hoodie against the cool breeze.

"It's a bit late, senior. It's not safe for you to be alone—let me walk you."

Meera glanced at me, her face cold, but she didn't refuse—just nodded lightly.

Her silence was permission enough. We fell into step, the sounds of distant laughter and the faint clang of a temple bell our only company. As we passed the hostel gates, a group of girls in pyjamas clustered near the entrance, gossiping under the yellow light. Meera gave them a curt nod, her posture stiffening, and they quickly looked away. Even here, she kept her guard up.

On the way, we didn't say a word. It was really awkward.

I fidgeted with my backpack strap, trying not to look as nervous as I felt. The silence stretched, heavy as Delhi humidity.

I felt like I should find a topic to break the silence.

I cleared my throat, searching my mind for something—anything—to say.

"Um, senior, thank you for today."

"It was nothing."

Her voice was flat, but not unkind. She stared straight ahead, steps measured.

"..."

This conversation was going nowhere.

I tried a few other topics, but Meera shot them all down.

"Nice weather today, na?"

"Hmm."

"Did you always want to do polymers?"

"Yes."

After the third failed attempt, I gave up, feeling like an idiot.

Maybe Kunal was right—Meera probably only had experiments in her head.

Back in the hostel, I complained to Kunal.

He thought for a moment and said, "Maybe you're just bad at finding topics?"

He grinned, tossing me a packet of Kurkure. "Dekh, you need more practice with girls."

"Really? I think my topics are pretty good."

"But your conversations are just too awkward. Are you like this with other girls, too?"

Other girls? I thought about it. Besides my school classmates, the only other girl was the Stephen's senior. Even though we only chatted online and never met, our conversations were always smooth—especially with her. She never let the conversation drop.

There was a warmth to her texts—always a clever reply, always a joke when I needed it most.

Comparing the two, I suddenly missed the Stephen's senior even more.

I sighed. I wondered how she was doing now.

I'd planned to meet her after the boards to thank her. If I added her back now...

The idea sparked in my mind and wouldn’t let go. Should I say sorry? Would she even want to talk to me?

Once the idea popped into my head, it grew like wild grass. I struggled for days. Finally, I convinced myself: No matter what, I should at least say sorry and thank you.

So I didn't hesitate—I clicked on her familiar profile and sent a friend request.

My fingers trembled as I pressed send, praying to all the gods that she’d at least read it.