Just a face in the crowd
where my heartbeat is found
No promises spoken, no grand
sweeping part,
Just a shy little flutter
tucked deep in the heart.
A smile over notebooks, a
laugh we half hide,
The world feels much warmer
with you on my side.
It’s silly, it’s simple, and
it’s nothing too much
But oh, the sweetness of a
first teenage crush
They say teenage years are a mix of books, dreams and moments you never forget. This story is about a girl and her first crush – a soft, quiet chapter of her life that still lingers in her memory like a faded photograph. It isn’t my story, but when I first heard it, I could picture it like a little film: shy smiles, stolen glances and that gentle magic only the first crush can bring.
Class 9: New batch, New books and something new…..
A new session had begun: fresh books, tougher lessons and the sudden realization that she was now in class 9. It felt strange as next year she will appear for boards. She could still remember her first day in school, a tiny little girl with a bag almost bigger than her and now here she was. Being a quiet girl and an average student, school had always been a little challenging. Now, it felt even tougher. She just hoped she would survive this year. On top of that, she had joined two coaching classes- one for Science and Math and another for Language. School bhi karo! Tution bhi karo! Aur padhai bhi karo! (Go to school! Go to Tuition! And still study more!) it was a lot. Evenings were for her Language tuition (Wednesday and Friday).The best part? She got to go with her friends, so it never felt lonely. Coming from a girls’ school, she hardly interacted with boys, and honestly, she didn’t think she was missing much. She was the kind of girl who didn’t fall for someone easily.
But then… that one evening happened. A new student joined their tuition. The first time she saw him, she felt… something. She didn’t even know what that feeling was just that it was new and strange. All she knew he was handsome. Maybe it was just his looks that caught her. After all, it was just a crush. She wasn’t expecting anything. They ended up sitting face to face in class, and she realized she liked it that way. On days when they didn’t sit like that, or if he was absent, she felt oddly sad. Their conversations were nothing more than tiny exchanges - “Can you pass the notes?” or “What’s the answer to this?” it made her happy. One day, they even exchanged numbers, purely for sharing notes, of course. But for her, that small thing felt like something special, a little treasure she kept quietly to herself. The quiet, naïve girl in her had no courage to confess anything. All she could do was steal little peeks, occasionally lock eyes with him by accident, and then feel her heart burst with butterflies. That was her Class 9 - a year filled with silent happiness. He was never close, yet somehow close enough to make her smile. And between schoolwork, coaching, and late-night study sessions, she still managed to carry that little crush in her heart all the way to Class 10.
Her Final Year
began: To be honest, she was very scared of the
boards. Her grades weren’t that great and time had run so fast that she barely
realized she was already in her board year. It was an important phase for any
Indian parent - if you know, you know. But in all that chaos, in a small
corner of her heart, she still carried the deepest liking for someone. She was
excited to go back to her Language tuition not of course, for the studies, but
to see him and talk to him again. When she reached tuition, her heart broke
into pieces. He had left the tuition and joined another. She was so sad but
couldn’t show it on her face. She thought to herself, “What could be worse?”
Suddenly, tuition felt longer, duller like she just wanted it to be over so she
could go home. On some days, she felt like not going at all. The only reason
she survived was because of her friends, tuition felt lively at least. After a
few days, the ache dulled. She threw herself into her studies because now, her
main goal was just to pass. But deep down, in that tiny heart of hers, the
crush still lived a little spark that still made her smile. Sometimes she saw
him somewhere; she would feel happy, even though she never had the courage to
call out to him. Just a glimpse of him could make her day. Sometimes, she would
even take the same route on purpose, hoping she might catch sight of him but
luck didn’t always favor her.
Ahh, was she
crazy? She wondered. I
mean… even she didn’t know.
Boards
arrived, and her concentration shifted completely to her studies. Preparation,
revision it was a crazy year. She forgot about everything else. The D-day came,
and within a few days, it was over. Then come the long vacation follow by
results and admissions. Life felt busy. She took admission back in her school.
It felt familiar yet new: same building, but friends scattered in their own
directions and the only visible change was the uniform.
Days went by. One afternoon, while talking to her friend Enei, she heard something that left her both shocked and secretly happy.
(As the author of
this story, I realize I forgot to mention an important detail.)
Back in tuition, there was a girl named Rhene - confident, open, and friendly the opposite of our quiet protagonist. Rhene became close to him because they walked home together along the same route. Naturally, they became friends, exchanged numbers, and stayed in touch. Rhene was also friend with Enei, and they would often joke around teasing him for his little quirks and sometimes teasing her too, but always in a light, harmless way.
Back to the present: so Rhene and Enei were catching up, talking about the old tuition days. When Rhene suddenly said, “You know… he really liked her, from the bottom of his heart.” Enei repeated it to her exactly as Rhene had said it. When she heard those words, she was stunned,”He liked me? Really? Why would he?” She didn’t believe it fully, but deep inside she was blushing so hard she felt like she could float. Outwardly, she tried to act like it didn’t matter but her smile betrayed her. That night at home, she kept thinking-Could it be true? Does it even matter now? She told herself.
And then one day, completely out of the blue… a message popped up on her phone.
“Hi.”
She looked at it, and her heart skipped a beat. It was him. Luckily she didn’t delete his number. After years… he had messaged her. The pop of that message skipped her heart, but with calmness she replied back. It felt surreal, like a page from an old diary suddenly opening again. This wasn’t the world of WhatsApp or endless social media scrolling. Back then, it was just simple SMS no emojis, no stickers, no fancy typing just plain words. And yet, those words carried weight. From a simple “Hi” to “How have you been?” their conversation slowly unfolded. Each reply felt like brushing dust off forgotten memories. And then, at last, she asked the question that had lingered in her heart when heard about it.
“Was it true… did you really like me back then?”
His reply was almost playful, yet uncertain.
He said, “Rhea
told me you liked me a lot”. She thought “I, when did I confess to them ? Never.” It was like a circle of half-truths and whispers. Till this
day, she never knew who had spoken the truth. Maybe it was real, maybe it was
just a story planted by their friends. Who knows?
This is how there texting started and sometimes late night talks. Well, It was she who mostly texted. She found herself slipping into his world, exploring the things he liked. The naive girl sometimes lied, saying she too loved reading, or that she was into Hollywood pop songs. But in truth, she was a complete Bollywood girl, with little knowledge about the rest of the world. Still, what started as small lies slowly became discoveries. She began reading, listening to English songs and watching movies outside her comfort zone. Looking back now, she laughs at herself: silly, innocent, desperate to impress. But thanks to him, she learned new things and unknowingly expanded her world.
Then, one rainy evening, it happened. She had asked him for a book suggestion and he replied warmly, “Yeah, sure. I have this book. I can give it to you today.” That started their first meeting. Her heart raced. They fixed a time to meet. She told her mother casually, “I’m going to meet a friend to get a book.” Suspicion flickered in her mother’s eyes - after all, wasn’t it easier for a friend to give her the book at school? But since she studied in a girls’ school, her mother let it go. Carrying an umbrella, she set out nervously. She was fine over text, but in person her shyness wrapped her like a second skin. Still, she was excited after all, this would be the first time seeing him after so long. The rain poured harder as she walked quickly, her umbrella trembling in her hand. And then, in the middle of the road she saw him standing there, holding his own umbrella. For a moment, the world seemed to blur around her: just him, just her and the rain falling softly between them. They exchanged a soft “hi,” and he immediately handed her the book. She thanked him, trying to calm her racing heart and turned as if to leave. But then he said, “Let me walk a little with you.” So they walked under their umbrellas in the rain, the air heavy with unspoken words. They didn’t say much, just the usual questions: “How’s senior secondary?” “How are studies going?” He spoke briefly about the book, insisting, “It’s a good one, you’ll like it.”And then, too soon she reached her lane. It was time to part. They exchanged a quiet “bye,” a shy smile, and walked their separate ways. But in her heart, that small walk in the rain became a memory she would carry forever.
| After reaching home that evening, she texted him to let him know she got back safely. She thanked him once again for the book. A little later, he replied, saying he was still on the way, and added casually that his clothes had gotten wet in the rain.Their chat went on for a while, lighthearted and playful, until suddenly, out of nowhere, he typed: |
“You
know, I wanted to kiss you… but I thought it wouldn’t be ideal. And maybe you’d
punch me.”
Her
heart skipped a beat. She froze. This was so unexpected for her. Somehow, with
all the courage she could gather, she replied: “Well, you should have tried.
Then you would’ve known whether I’d punch you… or not.” She tried to sound
calm, but her heart was a storm. He had no idea that he was the very first boy
to say such a thing to her. His reply came after a pause: “Hmm, okay… next
time, if there’s a chance.” And there she was, lying on the floor of her
room, her eyes wide and butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. She was
shouting quietly and replied back with a simple “okay… bye.”
But
for days after, that last message kept replaying in her head. She would catch
herself smiling, blushing like a fool, hugging her pillow in secret. That tiny
conversation had changed something inside her.
A few days later, he asked if she was free to meet. It was almost dark outside, but she wanted to see him too. She planned everything carefully so that nobody at home grew suspicious. With a small excuse, “I’m going to meet a friend” she got her mother’s nod. A lie, yes but only half of one. The friend was real… only this time, it was a boy. She dressed up simply, yet beautifully. Not too much, not too little just enough to feel special. They met by the street. Dating, after all for teenagers without money, was just walking together, stealing moments.
“I can stay only for a little while,” she said softly.
“Me too,” he smiled. So they walked together, down the dimly lit road toward her lane, talking about random things, laughing, enjoying the few minutes they had. When they finally reached her lane, she said gently, “So… this is it. It’s time to say bye.”
He
nodded, “Okay.”
But
then, before she could take another step, he suddenly leaned in and kissed her.
Just like that.
Quick,
Soft,
Sudden
And
without looking back, he walked away. She stood frozen, clueless, her mind
blank. And then slowly, as the warmth of his lips lingered, she realized what
had just happened. Her first kiss. On
her way home, she kept touching her lips, smiling to herself, blushing in the
dark. When she finally reached her room she stared at herself in the mirror and
her cheeks glowing, eyes sparkling. It was overwhelming, magical and impossible
to put into words. Unable to keep it to herself, she grabbed her phone and
called her closest friend. Breathless, she repeated the same line again and
again: “He kissed me. He kissed me! It was so sudden, I couldn’t react but
he did kiss me!” Her happiness spilled out like sunshine after rain.
Later
that night, she texted him, “Why was it so sudden?”
His
reply made her laugh: “I was in a hurry… my stomach hurt. So I just kissed
you and ran home.”
It
wasn’t the dreamy reply she had expected, but it was honest. They ended the
night with a goodnight text. And for her, that day remained one of the best
days of her life - the day she got her first kiss.
Days passed and slowly, meeting him became easier. She became an expert at sneaking small permissions, little escapes from home just to catch a glimpse of him. And every time they met, their comfort grew. A hug here, a kiss - soft, shy, filled with innocence. This went till for a month. For her, every day was magical and she had the best glow at that time. After a while days went by. The meetings became fewer, the texts shorter. What once was full of butterflies and stolen smiles slowly faded into long silences. She felt something was strange, but brushed it off thinking maybe he was busy, maybe it was just a phase. Then one day, while they were casually chatting after a long gap, his words dropped like a stone into still water.
“You know… we should end this. I think you’re not my type. It’s not working out. I’m sorry.”
Her fingers froze. She didn’t even know what she replied maybe a simple “Okay”, maybe nothing at all. All she remembers is the wave of hurt that followed. That night, she cried quietly, wondering what went wrong. The pain was unlike anything she had ever known. A first heartbreak: raw, sharp, unforgettable. What stung most were not his words, but her silence. She couldn’t ask him why. Couldn’t tell him how much it hurt. Couldn’t say a single thing. And so she carried it inside her, a weight too heavy for a young heart. At that time, she truly thought, “Was I not good enough?”
She hated it so much that she wanted to erase every memory of him, to pretend he never existed. She never spoke to him again and yet inside, she wished she had once told him how much she felt, how deeply she cared. But she never did. She kept her pain quiet and in silence, it slowly faded.She threw herself into studies, friends and little joys of everyday life. She ignored everything else, convincing herself she was fine. Yet sometimes, tiny fragments of memory would come back uninvited that rainy walk, the first kiss, their talks. They hit her suddenly, unexpectedly. At times, she hated it. But now, after all these years, she remembers those days with a different heart. She laughs at her own silliness, at the innocent lies she told just to impress him, at how nervous she used to be that she wouldn’t even open up and express her feelings for him. They are no longer wounds just sweet, innocent memories of a girl discovering what it means to like someone for the first time.
Because of him, she changed. Maybe she made mistakes, maybe she was naïve but she also learned. She learned how deeply she could feel, how much she could give, and how to pick herself back up when it hurt the most. And now, when she looks back, she smiles not with regret, but with gratitude. Gratitude for a first crush that taught her the sweetness of butterflies, the ache of goodbye and the strength of moving on.
“Maybe it was never meant to last forever,” she thinks, “but it will always be a part of me forever - the part where I learned to love, to grow, and to heal.”
And life… it always surprises us. After all, sometimes the chapters we think are closed still find a way to reopen in the most unexpected of places. Whether it was fate or coincidence, whether it mattered or not well, that’s a story she still keeps quietly to herself , like a secret folded between the pages of her heart.
As an author, I wonder… did she truly love him, or was it simply the innocence of her first crush that hurt so much? Maybe both. Maybe neither. All I know is that time has turned her pain into something softer a memory she can laugh about, a lesson she carries with warmth. And about whether she met him again or not… well, that part is something I choose to keep folded away, like a page I never quite read aloud. Some stories are sweeter when left unfinished leaving it just enough room for your own imagination to wonder and maybe, to smile.
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