Location: College Bus to Tilaari Village

Time: 7:03 a.m. — Departure Day

The bus was loud. Too loud for people who had barely slept.

Between backpacks thumping overhead and juniors already singing, Aarohi regretted saying yes to this “eco-awareness & wellness promotion camp.”

But she had signed up.

Not because she wanted to save the planet.

Because she needed an attendance boost, and also… maybe, just maybe…

Karan was going too.

She told herself that wasn’t the reason.

It was the jungle.

The air.

The service hours.

Not the boy with the guilty eyes and stupid smirk.

So when she saw him step into the bus — hair still damp, sunglasses on, chai cup in hand — she turned her head toward the window.

The seat beside her was empty.

She prayed.

But prayers are rarely answered when you lie to yourself.

Karan Malhotra

He had told himself this trip was a break.

From Delhi. From the guilt. From her.

But of course, the only empty seat was next to her.

He didn’t ask. He just sat.

She didn’t greet. She just shifted.

And they sat like that — like strangers with unspoken novels between them.

Half an hour in, someone passed around chips.

Their fingers brushed accidentally.

She pulled back like he was contagious.

He didn’t react.

Just kept chewing quietly.

Meanwhile Aarohi:

*** He smells like mint and warm air. Disgusting.

Why did he sit here? Why couldn’t he sit with one of his loud theatre friends?

Is that a mosquito coil in his bag? Who even packs that?***

Karan with his impulsive thoughts;

***She’s wearing silver jhumkas again. And rolled her sleeves halfway. I hate that I notice these things.

She hasn’t spoken in forty-seven minutes.

Is it weird that I miss her voice more than I want to admit?***

---

Camp Site – Tilaari Jungle Edge

By 1:00 p.m., the students reached a clearing beside the village.

Tents were assigned in pairs — strictly same gender.

Karan and Aarohi were placed in opposite groups.

Still… their tents were right across from each other.

She pretended not to notice.

He noticed everything.

The locals began arriving slowly — women in sarees with toddlers, curious boys with sling shots, two barefoot men carrying sacks.

Aarohi stepped forward with leaflets and a rehearsed smile.

“Namaste aap sabhi ko, Hum yeh batane yaha aaye hain ke jungle mein rehkar bhi suraksha aur health compromise nahi karni chahiye.,"

"We will be guiding you all throughout the journey with all the available resources, we hope you will also support and help to change go good "

( Good afternoon everyone, we are here here to teach you all about the health and safety can't be compromised)

They listened, nodded.

Karan watched her from a distance.

Not as the girl who hated him — but as the girl who somehow always managed to belong wherever she went.

---

Later That Night – Bonfire & Bite Marks

Rain came fast.

Not full storm — just enough to ruin sleeping bags and make the air smell like wet earth and unfinished goodbyes.

Everyone huddled in the common shelter tent.

Torchlight. Wet hair. Dried instant noodles in plastic bowls.

Aarohi was seated between two chatty girls. Karan was on the opposite edge, arms folded.

He wasn’t looking at her.

Until she let out a sharp “Ow!”

He turned.

Her wrist had two mosquito bites. Red, swelling fast.

She slapped her arm again. “Ugh, yeh toh army level attack hai.”

Karan walked over, pulled something from his bag, and offered it.

A balm tube.

Half-used.

“Apply this. Stops the itch.”

She hesitated.

He said, “It’s not poison.”

She took it without eye contact.

“Mila kaha yeh?” she muttered.

He smiled. “Jungle ke liye jungle plan chahiye.”

For the first time that day, her lips twitched. A half-smile. Gone in a second.

---

Later – Inside Her Tent

Her roommate slept fast.

Aarohi didn’t.

She stared at the top of the tent, trying to ignore the jungle sounds and one uninvited thought:

> He still carries balm for others.

And maybe... guilt isn’t the only reason he keeps showing up.

---

Meanwhile – Karan, Under the Stars

He sat just outside the tent, hoodie zipped up.

Everyone else had gone to bed.

He stared at the stars — Delhi never had stars like this.

In his hand? That same blog post screenshot.

He read it again.

He whispered into the dark:

“I’m not trying to be forgiven.”

A pause.

“But I wish she’d look at me like I’m more than a mistake.”

---

❤️‍🩹 Final Line:

> In the middle of nowhere, beside trees that never judged, and skies that never lied—

two people didn’t speak.

But their silence said everything they weren’t ready to admit.

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