"You know I want you
It's not a secret I try to hide"
~ Rewrite The Stars – Zac Efron & Zendaya
~Thursday Morning~
I was going to kill Aadya.
My phone had been buzzing non-stop since 7 AM with messages from the group chat she'd created without my permission.
"KASUKABE LEGENDS 👽" (because apparently Aadya thought emojis were a personality trait)
Aadya: Good morning beautiful people! Who's getting coffee before class?
Vihaan: Define "morning" because my body thinks it's still midnight
Aashika: It's 7 AM Vihaan. That's literally morning.
Vihaan: That's literally a hate crime
Ritika: I'll be there. Need caffeine to survive Professor Mitchell's lecture
Shivansh: Same. 8:30 at the usual place?
Aadya: Perfect! Kashvi you coming?
I stared at my phone. I had class at 9. I could easily get coffee on my own, avoid the group, maintain my carefully constructed solitude.
But something about the casual invitation—like it was just assumed I was part of this now—made me hesitate.
Me: Maybe. I'll see.
Aadya: That's Kashvi for "yes but I'm going to pretend I might not show up." We'll save you a seat 😊
I groaned into my pillow.
How did she already know me so well?
~
I was definitely not refreshing the group chat every thirty seconds to see if Kashvi would respond.
"You're doing it again," Aadya said, walking into the kitchen where I was attempting to make breakfast. "The obsessive phone-checking thing."
"I'm not obsessed."
"You smiled when she said maybe."
"I did not—" I stopped. I definitely had smiled. "Shut up."
"You're so gone for her, it's actually adorable." She grabbed an apple from the counter. "Also, you're burning your eggs."
"Shit—" I turned back to the stove, scraping the now-blackened eggs off the pan.
"Smooth. Very princely."
"I'm going to tell Mom you're being mean to me."
"I'm going to tell Mom you're burning down our kitchen over a girl you've known for a week."
Fair point.
Twenty minutes later, we were at the coffee shop near campus. It was packed with students desperately trying to caffeinate before their morning classes.
Our group had claimed the big corner table—our usual spot now, apparently. Vihaan was already half-asleep with his head on the table. Shivansh was reading something on his phone. Ritika was organizing her planner with terrifying precision. Aashika was sketching in a notebook.
"She's not coming," I said, checking my phone again. 8:35. Most people were already here.
"She'll come," Aadya said confidently. "Give her time."
"How are you so sure?"
"Because she wants to. She's just scared. There's a difference."
And then, like Aadya had summoned her, Kashvi walked through the door.
She was wearing black jeans and an oversized cream-colored sweater, her hair in a messy bun, headphones around her neck. She looked tired—like maybe she hadn't slept well—but still beautiful in that effortless way that made my chest tight.
Her eyes scanned the room, landing on our table. I saw the hesitation, saw her weighing whether to approach or run.
I raised my hand in a small wave.
She took a breath, and walked over.
~
I was regretting this already.
Everyone looked so comfortable together, so natural. Like they'd known each other for years instead of a week. And here I was, the awkward outsider who didn't know how to be part of something.
"Kashvi! You made it!" Aadya beamed, gesturing to the empty seat. "We saved you a spot."
The empty seat was, of course, next to Aadyant.
I sat down, hyper-aware of how close he was. He smelled good—something clean and expensive that made me want to lean closer and also run away at the same time.
"Morning," he said, his voice still a little rough with sleep. "You want coffee? I'm about to order."
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"Kashvi." He said my name like it meant something. "I'm not asking because I have to. I'm asking because I want to know what you like. So... what do you like?"
The way he looked at me when he said it—direct, genuine, like my answer actually mattered—made my stomach flip.
"Um. Just a latte. Regular milk, one sugar."
"Perfect." He stood up, and then paused, looking down at me with this soft smile that made my heart stutter. "And for the record? I'm really glad you came. My morning's already better."
He walked away before I could respond, leaving me sitting there trying to remember how to breathe.
"He's not usually this smooth," Aadya whispered, leaning over. "You're special."
"He's just being nice—"
"Aadyant doesn't do 'just nice.' Trust me. I've known him for eighteen years."
~
I was going to murder my sister.
But first, I had to get Kashvi's coffee without looking like an idiot who was way too invested in getting it right.
"One latte, regular milk, one sugar," I told the barista. "And..." I scanned the pastry case. Kashvi had that look this morning—the one that said she'd probably skipped breakfast. "Add a chocolate croissant."
"Making it a meal?" the barista asked with a knowing smile.
"Something like that."
When I returned to the table, Kashvi looked up at me, and the morning light caught her face just right. For a second, I forgot what I was doing.
"One latte, one sugar," I said, setting it down carefully in front of her. "And I got you a chocolate croissant because you looked like you hadn't eaten, and before you say I didn't have to—I know. I wanted to."
She blinked up at me, something soft and surprised in her expression. "How did you know I like chocolate croissants?"
"I didn't. But you strike me as someone with good taste."
Vihaan made a gagging sound. "Bro, that was so cheesy."
"Shut up, Vihaan."
Kashvi's lips twitched into an almost-smile as she took a sip of her coffee. "It's perfect. Thank you."
Those three words—it's perfect—made my entire morning.
~
He got my coffee exactly right. And bought me a croissant. My favorite kind.
And the way he'd said it—I wanted to—like it was the most natural thing in the world to pay attention to what I needed...
I was in so much trouble.
"So," Vihaan said, breaking the moment, "who's ready for Professor Chen's critique session today?"
I groaned. "Don't remind me. I have to present my concept sketches."
"Wait, you're in Chen's class?" Aashika perked up. "I've heard she's brutal."
"She is. But she's fair. If your work is good, she'll tell you. If it's shit, she'll tell you that too."
"What's your concept?" Ritika asked.
I hesitated. I didn't usually talk about my work before it was done. But something about this group made me want to share.
"Sustainable fashion using recycled materials. Trying to make high-end pieces from stuff people would normally throw away."
"That's incredible," Aashika said. "Like, actually innovative."
"It's just a concept right now—"
"Stop doing that," Aadyant said quietly.
I looked at him. "Doing what?"
"Downplaying your talent." His eyes held mine. "You're brilliant, Kashvi. Own it. The world's going to try to make you small enough—don't do it to yourself."
The intensity in his gaze made my breath catch. No one had ever talked to me like that. Like they actually believed in me.
"I... okay. Yeah. It's pretty good."
"Better," he said, and that smile—God, that smile should come with a warning label.
~
The conversation flowed easily after that. Vihaan told an elaborate story about getting locked in the library overnight and having to sleep on a beanbag in the children's section. Shivansh revealed he'd accidentally joined an advanced economics class and was too embarrassed to leave, so he'd been attending both. Ritika admitted she had a color-coded system for everything, including her closet organized by season, occasion, and fabric type.
Kashvi found herself laughing—actually laughing—more than she had in months.
"Okay, real talk time," Vihaan announced, leaning forward. "We need to play a game. Truth or dare. Right now."
"We're in a coffee shop," Ritika pointed out.
"So? That's what makes it fun. Public setting means embarrassing dares."
"I'm not doing anything that gets us kicked out," Aashika warned.
"Fine, fine. PG-13 dares only." Vihaan rubbed his hands together. "Aadya, you start. Truth or dare?"
"Dare. Obviously."
"I dare you to order your next drink in a French accent."
Aadya grinned. "Easy." She stood up and marched to the counter, launching into an exaggerated French accent that had the barista trying not to laugh.
When she returned triumphant, she pointed at Kashvi. "Your turn. Truth or dare?"
Kashvi's eyes widened. "I don't—"
"Come on, live a little!" Vihaan encouraged.
"Truth," she said quickly. Safer.
"Okay..." Aadya thought for a moment. "What's something you've never told anyone?"
Too deep. Way too deep for a coffee shop game.
Kashvi felt her chest tighten. "I... can I pick a different question?"
"Of course." Aadya's expression softened immediately. "Um... what's your guilty pleasure song? The one you'd be embarrassed if someone caught you singing?"
Relief flooded through her. "Barbie Girl by Aqua."
The table erupted in laughter.
"That's amazing," Vihaan wheezed. "I would pay money to hear you sing that."
"Not happening," Kashvi said, but she was smiling.
"Okay, your turn to ask someone," Aadya prompted.
Kashvi looked around the table, her eyes landing on Aadyant. "Truth or dare?"
His eyes met hers, something warm and challenging in them. "Dare."
Of course he picked dare.
Before she could think of something, Vihaan interrupted. "Ooh, I've got one. I dare you to give Kashvi your hoodie."
"What? Why?" Kashvi asked.
"Because it's freezing in here, the AC is blasting, and you've been rubbing your arms for ten minutes. And Aadyant's too much of a gentleman to offer without an excuse."
Everyone turned to look at her. She hadn't even realized she'd been cold.
Aadyant was already pulling off his hoodie—a soft, navy blue thing that probably cost more than her textbooks.
"Here," he said, holding it out. And then, quieter, just for her: "Can't have you freezing to death on my watch. Plus, you'll look better in it than I do anyway."
Her face burned as she took it. When she pulled it on, it was huge on her—sleeves past her fingertips, hem hitting mid-thigh. It was warm and smelled like him and she wanted to never take it off.
"Yeah, that's adorable," Vihaan said. "I'm uncomfortable with how cute this is."
"Shut up, Vihaan," Aadyant and Kashvi said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.
The table burst into laughter.
~
Seeing Kashvi in my hoodie did something to me.
She looked tiny in it, swimming in the fabric, but she also looked... right. Like she belonged there, wrapped in something of mine.
I was completely, utterly gone for this girl.
The game continued—Shivansh had to compliment three strangers (he chose to tell an elderly man his coffee choice was "excellent," a student her laptop stickers were "well-curated," and the barista that the espresso was "remarkably consistent"), Ritika had to let Vihaan mess up one page of her planner (she nearly had a breakdown), Aashika had to draw everyone at the table in under one minute (the results were hilariously bad).
Then it was Vihaan's turn again, and his eyes gleamed with mischief as they landed on me.
"Aadyant. Truth or dare?"
"Truth." I'd learned my lesson about his dares.
"If you could tell someone at this table anything without consequences, what would you say and to who?"
The table went silent.
I could deflect. Make a joke. Play it safe.
But I was tired of safe. And when I looked at Kashvi, saw her watching me with those guarded eyes while drowning in my hoodie, I couldn't.
"I'd tell them that they're stronger than they think they are," I said, my eyes not leaving Kashvi's face. "That watching them slowly let people in is the bravest thing I've seen. And that their coffee order is going to be permanently memorized in my brain, so they might as well get used to me knowing what they need before they ask."
The table was dead quiet.
Kashvi's eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, and I could see her trying to figure out if I meant her.
I definitely meant her.
~
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
He was talking about me. Definitely talking about me.
My heart was hammering so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
"I should—" I stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over my coffee. "I have class. Thanks for the coffee. And the hoodie. I'll return it—"
"Keep it," Aadyant said quickly, standing too. "It's cold today. You can give it back whenever."
"I really should go—"
"Kashvi, wait." His hand caught my wrist gently, and I froze. "Can I walk you to class?"
"You don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to." His voice was soft but firm. "But I want to. Please?"
The please broke me.
"Okay," I whispered.
~
We walked in silence for the first minute, the morning air cool against our skin. Kashvi had her headphones around her neck but wasn't wearing them—a small victory I was probably reading too much into.
"So," I started. "Sustainable fashion. That's really cool."
"You don't have to make small talk."
"I'm not. I genuinely want to know about it."
She glanced at me, surprised. "Really?"
"Really. Tell me about your project."
And she did. Slowly at first, then with growing enthusiasm. She talked about sourcing materials from thrift stores and donation centers, about deconstruction and reconstruction, about making something beautiful from what others had discarded.
I could have listened to her talk for hours.
"Sorry," she said suddenly, stopping. "I'm rambling."
"Don't apologize. I like listening to you talk about things you care about." I paused. "You light up when you talk about design. It's... it's really beautiful to see."
She looked away, but I caught the small smile.
We'd reached the fashion building too soon. I wasn't ready for this walk to end.
"Kashvi," I said as she started to head inside. "What I said back there. At the coffee shop. I meant it."
"I know," she said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "That's what scares me."
Before I could respond, she disappeared inside, leaving me standing there trying to figure out what to do with the fact that I was falling for a girl who was terrified of being cared about.
~
~Later that evening~
I was lying on my bed, still wearing Aadyant's hoodie (I'd tried to take it off three times and couldn't), when my phone buzzed.
Aadyant: Hey. How did the presentation go?
He remembered. Of course he remembered.
Me: Good, actually. Professor Chen liked the concept.
Aadyant: Of course she did. I told you—you're brilliant.
Me: You barely know my work.
Aadyant: I know you. That's enough.
I stared at my phone, my heart doing complicated things.
Me: Why are you so nice to me?
Aadyant: Why wouldn't I be?
Me: You don't even know me. Not really.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Aadyant: Then let me. Let me know you, Kashvi. The real you. Not the version you think you need to be.
Aadyant: I know that's scary. I know you're probably reading this and thinking of seventeen reasons why it's a bad idea. But I'm patient. And I'm not going anywhere.
Aadyant: Take your time. I'll be here when you're ready.
I read the messages three times, then a fourth.
No one had ever been patient with me before. No one had ever waited.
Me: Why?
Aadyant: Because you're worth waiting for.
I pulled his hoodie tighter around me and let myself believe him.
Just for tonight.
~
FOLLOW ME!! 😄
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