In which Anjali moves to Misayur, a small town in Western Tamilnadu to live with her grandmother and ends up running into her childhood crush Karthik, who is not the unserious boy she knew him as anymore.
"Um, I am not sure, Anjali. It's easy to misunderstand but you've got to ask him if you need the truth," Layla answered calmly as she sat in a beautiful white cotton dress on the other side of the screen.
"Come on, Layla. He really was flirting. Who says 'Whenever I see art, I think of you' to a friend?" Anjali protested, plopping down on her bed. She had been tossing his words around and around in her head all day. The conversation that Karthik and Anjali had wasn't normal. There was something more to it.
"As far as I remember, Karthik always spoke like he was reciting poems. He was a hopeless romantic at heart and used to read sappy novels," Vishal contributed, coming into the screen in his khaki shorts and navy blue shirt. He nudged his wife to move along so that he could sit next to her. "This could've meant nothing to him."
"But—"
"I know that you've had feelings for him ever since school, Anjali. And I really wish he had been flirting with you. But he has a child to take care of. He's also juggling too many responsibilities. Do you think he would be thinking about a relationship now? The timing doesn't make sense," Layla gently said.
"It's always the fucking timing," Anjali said, resting her face on her palm. "I am so sick of it. When is it really the right time? Will it ever come?"
"Anjali, look at me," Vishal said, grabbing all of her attention like he did with everyone. "Give it a few days and try to understand what he wants from you. If he is the old Karthik I know, he would be craving for a friend right now. If he's changed, he might be open to wanting something more. Once you figure it out, see if you can be friends with him and forget your feelings. If you can't hide your feelings, confess and let him make the decision."
Layla glances at Vishal with a proud smile, the kind that a wife gives her husband when he opens the door for him and surprises her with breakfast.
"Yeah, that makes sense."
"I always do," Vishal said, leaning back.
"Bullshit," Layla snorted. Anjali simply smiled at them.
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Anjali walked back from school, her tote bag filled with papers that mostly said I like you, Anjali Ma'am or You're the best teacher ever! and some shy ones that said You're nice to me and You're pretty.
They'd had a positive affirmations session today and everyone was glowing with confidence by the end of it. Anjali smiled, thinking about how Kiran had shyly given her the I love you note. He was such a cute ten-year-old.
She removed her claw clip to tuck back the unruly strands of hair when a bike zoomed past her. Anjali paused, sure that the person on the bike was someone familiar. She turned back only to find the bike turning around towards her.
