The Girl Who Was Invisible: Chapter 2

I waited. Every day at school felt like a ticking clock, but Mohan never said a word. He’d walk past my desk without even a glance, and that silence became louder than anything Anushka had said on the bus.

Finally, I snapped. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely type as I opened the school mail portal. I didn’t care if the teachers monitored it—I needed to know.

“What Anushka said to you after you got down from the bus (I guess) on…some day or maybe today, idk, was kind of true,” I typed, my heart racing.

“So… Um… Yeah. Anushka told me that you didn’t believe her on that, and that then she told you to ask me in school, but you never did sooooooooo I sent this mail. Also, you don’t still think I’m a snitch, do you? Also also, do the others ALSO think I am/was a snitch?”

I hit send and immediately regretted it. I wanted to crawl under my desk and stay there until 8th grade.

A few days later, my inbox pinged.

“Hey Sia, sorry for replying to your msg so late, I saw it today only,” he wrote.

My breath hitched. “Well yeah, Anushka did tell me this a few days ago and told me to ask you in school. I didn’t ask you though as I thought that might make it awkward and might hurt you. And trust me, I don’t think you’re a snitch anymore. I just thought that in the beginning of 7th because you complained to Mia ma’am about Sarika with some of the other girls like Saisha. So yea, it was just a misconception of mine. BTW, no one thinks you’re a snitch anymore so you don’t have to worry about that. 👍🙂”

He added a note at the bottom: “Also try not to use the school mail for something which isn’t related to school as teachers don’t like it, you can message me on my personal Gmail account tho: mohan2013@gmail.com. Regards, Mohan(Bad Boy)”

I stared at the screen, a weird mix of relief and panic washing over me. Bad Boy? I couldn’t help but smile. I waited a few hours—I didn’t want to seem too eager—before crafting my reply on his personal Gmail.

“Hey Mohan, Im finally replying on this account. Sorry about the late reply, i actually saw your message a little time after you sent it, but didnt know what to say at the time. Anyways thanks for clarifying about the snitch part and im glad we are good. Sia (The Good Girl (well, usually)” I typed, and hit send.

I immediately regretted it- like seriously that was such a cringe joke!!

He replied almost instantly. “Hey Sia, No issue, you replied that’s the good thing, and it’s fine that you took the amount of time you needed to understand what you really wanted to say. Haha nice joke at the end, I’m glad we’re good too…didn’t want to end 7th grade with any awkward situation and really happy that aisa nahin hua. See you in school on Monday. Regards, Mohan (the rizzler)”

I read his email until the words blurred. The rizzler.

But the victory was short-lived. The moment we were back in the classroom, the reality set in. Whether it was the “Bad Boy” signature or the fact that I now knew for a fact he’d read my confession, something shifted. I couldn’t help but track his movements, my gaze drifting to him constantly. And every time I looked, he seemed to look away.

He started avoiding me. Not aggressively, just… quietly. I was a “jack-in-the-box” of nervous energy, and he was the one keeping the lid firmly shut.