A Collection Of Short Stories | ✔

Lovers at 5:52 - Part Two

Zoya jostled through the mass of sweaty people in the train as his voice followed her, "Hey, hey, wait!"

Suddenly, she heard someone else yelling simultaneously and she whirled around.

"Back down brother, she's not interested---"

"I know her, I just want to talk . . . "

"Do you know him ma'am?" an intimidating man caught her gaze and dutifully asked her. "He's been following you in the train, right from the moment you entered."

I know, I was dodging him purposefully.

"Hey, it's me---"

"I'm asking her, not you," the man cut him off and raised his eyebrow at Zoya.

Zoya's heart pounded in her chest as her eyes met those familiar hazel ones, this time instead of seeing the vibrant sparkle, she saw confusion.

She couldn't believe that she had crossed paths with him after two months of summer break. It felt surreal as if he had been in the train the entire time, waiting for her. But that wasn't even remotely possible since he was busy with that gorgeous girl she had seen him with- the sort of girl she could never become. 

The man's harsh clearing of throat broke the tense atmosphere and she came back to her senses.

The boy tried to take a step forward, but the man blocked him. His eyebrows knotted in indignation. Nevertheless, he threw his hands up in the air, surrendering. His eyes flashed back to Zoya, this time filled with hope.

"No, I don't even know his name."

* * *

Zoya dreaded to go to the station the next day, but her best friend insisted her to go, calling her a coward if she didn't confront her problems.

"It's just a boy, you can't stop taking the train for a boy."

Her best friend's practical words echoed in her head as Zoya stepped in the station with a newfound spirit, but that soon dissolved when she saw him in his usual glory- standing on the platform casually with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Just as he spotted her, she quickly turned around and started racing ahead. She heard light footsteps behind her and soon felt long fingers grip her arm. She twisted furiously and his eyes went wide. He hastily let go of her arm as soon as he had held it. The innocent gleam in his eyes calmed her.

He hesitated talking, bewildered at her coldness so she spoke, "Why are you not in the train and here?"

"I was waiting for you to come, I-I don't understand why you're running from me. Did I do something wrong?"

Zoya would have fell for his sincerity right then and there, but she knew better. 

She scoffed. "Nothing that matters, let's put this behind us and never see each other again."

"Is that what you want?" he asked dubiously, puzzled by her animosity. "I thought we had fun and I was hoping to get your number."

"Why? So you can make a complete fool of myself- oh I'm dating a super attractive girl, but there's this other girl I see in the train, well, I'm not sure which one I like. And she doesn't know I'm seeing someone else, poor her," she said in a high-pitched tone, mocking him, feeling a sudden rush of rage and confidence. She sounded ridiculous. "Too bad she isn't as naive as you thought she was."

The boy looked baffled, his entire face creased as to what the hell she was blabbering about. At that exact moment, Zoya realised that she had misinterpreted certain things and had made a spectacle of herself. Now, all she wanted was to run away from her own self- free her soul from this useless shell called body and become a new, mature person.

* * *

"That was my sister!" the boy exclaimed in amusement, laughing loudly as they both collapsed on the seat. "You couldn't have possibly  thought that."

Zoya shamefully covered her face with her palms and said in a muffled voice, "I hate myself so much. I'm so so sorry."

He was still laughing, brushing off her apology. "That felt like I was in a soap opera."

"You don't know how sorry I am, that scene I caused---"

"Was hilarious," he intervened, his dreamy eyes narrowing as he continued laughing. Then noticing that Zoya's face was a bright red from embarrassment, he smiled kindly. "It's alright, not a big deal. I get what you must have felt like, I would have reacted the same way."

"Yeah no, you wouldn't have dramatically flew away."

"Perhaps not," he said playfully and seeing her self-loathing state, he continued, "But hey, we're cool now."

"I was such a jerk to you, oh God," Zoya muttered bitterly and watched him take out his earphones. "What can I do to make it up to?"

He simply stuffed one bud in his ear and gave another one to her, clicking on the song- 'We Are Young.' "Let's start fresh."

"Okay." She smiled in relief and before the chorus came, the boy acted as if he had a guitar in his hand. Then instead of fake playing it, he cradled it in his arms and stretched it towards her. She was mildly entertained as she reluctantly took the fake guitar from him, hugging the apparently huge thing against her chest. "What?"

"Play it, I'll forget you ever being mean to me." Zoya gave him a 'are you kidding' expression, but he insisted, "Go on, I'm not joking.

She awkwardly pretended to hold the fake instrument and slowly started strumming it. The boy initially clapped in harmony to the music blasting in their ears and then he started shaking his head animatedly. She was transfixed by his silky, caramel-like hair lashing in the air and her own movements with the guitar became vigorous. Their eyes met briefly in this preposterous display and they both burst out laughing.

"No wonder, that old lady thought we were crazy," she quipped, exhilarated and he nodded in a haze, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "I missed us this summer."

"I know," he murmured then shrugged, unbothered. "We have now and tomorrow."

"And the day after tomorrow and the day after that . . . "

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, we do."

So they listened to the songs they had heard before, enjoyed new ones until Zoya got up unwillingly since her stop came. "If only l didn't have to go now."

He grinned. "We have tomorrow and the day after---"

"Yup, I know," she said and extended her hand to him. "I'm Zoya by the way."

He took her hand and warmly shook it. "Okay, hi Zoya."

She frowned, perplexed. "Won't you tell me your name?"

"You'll have to come tomorrow to know my name," he bantered and she crossed her arms against her chest.

"Is this your sort of blackmail for getting me to come back tomorrow?"

He smirked, unconcerned. "Tomorrow at 5:52, Zoya darling."

"Don't go around darling me," she jested and walked towards the door. "I'll be here whenever I please."

Just before the doors opened, he called out, "Hey!" She turned to him and found his eyes blazed with intensity, but his tone was light, "I'm Aiman."

"Alright, Aiman darling, 5:52 tomorrow."

* * *

A/N :

Are you all happy with this end lmao.