After the long, silent years of lockdown and quarantine, the shadow of COVID-19 was finally lifting. Life was slowly returning to its rhythm. Schools and other institutions reopened after 2 years, and here I was—back in my school uniform, standing at the familiar gates.
But something had changed.
This time, I wasn't dragging my feet or sighing with exhaustion. Instead, my heart was beating a little faster, my steps a little lighter. I wasn't dreading school—I was excited. Excited... to see Sam again after all this time.
But why was it Sam who made my heart race, and not Drew?
As always, I found my way to my bench after catching up with my friends, sharing laughs and gossip that had been long overdue. The classroom buzzed with post-lockdown energy, until a familiar voice called out, "Anu, can I borrow your notebook? I didn't do my homework."
It was Sam.
Without thinking much, I handed it over. He scribbled down his answers quickly and gave it back with a small smile.
An hour passed, and our teacher began collecting notebooks to check. I didn't think much of it—until her voice rang out, sharp and loud.
"Anu and Sam—who copied from whom?"
The room fell silent. So did we.
My cheeks flushed with anxiety. My heart thumped like a drum against my chest. I wanted to speak, but the words were stuck.
She scolded Sam for copying, and turned to me for letting him do it.
And then—he stood up.
"Teacher, please don't scold her. It wasn't her fault," he said calmly but firmly. "She didn't even know I took her notebook."
The class fell silent again.
The teacher's eyes narrowed, then she scolded him even more harshly. But in that moment, all I could feel was the way he had stood up for me.
Later, he came over and said softly, "I'm so sorry."
I stayed quiet for a moment, then replied gently, "It's okay." That was all I could manage—I was never good at expressing myself out loud.
But inside?
Inside, my whole day felt brighter. Because he had done something no one had ever done for me before—he had protected me.
And that meant something.
As the day went on, I couldn't stop replaying that moment in my mind—his voice, steady and sincere, standing up for me when he didn't have to. It was such a small thing, maybe even reckless, but to me, it meant everything. I had always been the quiet one, the girl who stayed in her corner, who smiled softly but rarely spoke. And yet, he noticed me. Not just my notebook—but me. For the first time in a long time, I felt seen. And maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something I couldn't quite name yet.