(Irshad's POV)
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Ali: "Abort mission, nerds. Forgot about an assignment due tomorrow. I'm OUT."
Ali: "Carry on without me. Be brave."
I scoffed, locking my phone. "Idiot."
Seerat hummed in agreement, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "A complete idiot."
We were already at Marine Drive, sitting on the low stone wall overlooking the sea. The air smelled like salt and fried street food, and the wind kept tossing Seerat's hair into her face. She sighed, trying to push it back.
"Well," she said, tucking her legs up. "Guess it's just us."
She didn't sound awkward about it—just stating a fact.
"Guess so." I stretched my legs out.
A comfortable silence settled between us. The waves rolled in and out, the sound mixing with the distant hum of traffic.
Then she turned to me, eyes glinting. "Tell me something funny about your love life."
I raised a brow. "That's random."
She shrugged. "Ali keeps acting like you're some heartbreaker. I'm curious."
I smirked. "Oh, he's being dramatic. But fine. Once, I ghosted this girl during a date."
She choked on air. "What?"
"I mean—okay, technically, I just left for the bathroom and never came back."
She gasped, smacking my arm. "You did not."
"I did," I admitted, grinning. "To be fair, she spent the first twenty minutes talking about her ex's new girlfriend and said she wanted to make him jealous. So, I figured… might as well give her a real sob story."
Seerat covered her mouth, scandalized. "You're evil."
"Nah, evil would've been my other strategy."
"…Other strategy?"
I grinned wider. "One time, I told a girl I had chronic, untreatable chlamydia to get out of a second date."
Seerat howled. "Oh my god—what did she say?"
"She just nodded very seriously and said, 'I respect your honesty.'"
She doubled over, laughing so hard she nearly lost balance. "That's insane."
"What? I was doing public service. Saved her from heartbreak."
"You are the heartbreak," she accused, still wheezing.
I shrugged. "Not my fault. I'm kind of a menace."
She shook her head, still grinning. "Wow. I cannot relate."
I raised an eyebrow. "No horrifying dating stories? No exes plotting revenge?"
She hesitated. Looked away.
"What?" I nudged her knee.
"I don't have any."
I blinked. "What?"
She glanced at me, then back at the waves. "I mean, I've never—never been on a date or… anything."
Silence.
Then I scoffed. "No way."
She crossed her arms. "Why is that so shocking?"
"Because." I paused, searching for the right words. "That just—it doesn't make sense."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
I leaned back on my hands, shaking my head. "I just thought—someone like you, there must've been tons of guys."
Seerat rolled her eyes. "I doubt that."
"No, seriously." I meant it. She was funny, kind, and beautiful in a way that snuck up on you. The kind of girl someone should've fallen head over heels for by now.
She sighed. "I guess I never met anyone I liked enough."
I stayed quiet, watching her.
Then I smirked. "So basically, your standards are just too high."
She groaned. "Oh my god, shut up."
I laughed, but something about it stuck with me. The fact that she'd never had anyone to fall for, to even consider falling for.
I didn't know why, but I found it… adorable.
Before I could think about it too much, she fumbled with a chocolate wrapper, trying to open it. And then—
"Ow."
I turned instantly. "What?"
She held up her finger, a tiny red line forming. "The wrapper."
I grabbed her hand instinctively. "Of course you'd manage to injure yourself with chocolate."
She pouted. "It's not my fault."
I huffed out a laugh, brushing my thumb over the cut without thinking. The moment stretched—her skin was warm, soft beneath my fingers.
Then I caught myself.
I let go. Cleared my throat. "You'll live."
She snorted. "Wow, thanks, doctor."
And just like that, the moment passed.
We stayed a while longer, talking, teasing, laughing. Somewhere between debating bad Bollywood movies and sneaking fries from each other's plates, I forgot why I ever thought being around her would be complicated.
Somewhere in all of that, I realized something.
I liked being her friend.
And for now, that was enough.
***
I'd barely dropped my gym bag when Ali swooped in like a buzzard smelling gossip.
I knew that look. That smug, self-satisfied, I-told-you-so look. It made me want to turn around and walk right back out.
Instead, I ignored him and headed straight for the weights.
"Bro," he called, dragging out the word like he was about to say something obnoxious.
I sighed, already regretting my life choices. I should've picked a gym farther from our apartment.
Ali leaned against the bench press, arms crossed, grinning like he'd just won the lottery. "So, how was Marine Drive?"
I didn't respond.
"Ohhh," he whistled. "So it was that good."
I grabbed a dumbbell and started my reps. "We hung out. That's it."
"Uh-huh." Ali hopped onto the bench, watching me like I was one of his entertainment subscriptions. "And did you or did you not have fun?"
I didn't answer.
He gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, you did!"
I rolled my eyes. "We were just talking."
"Uh-huh. And laughing."
I exhaled sharply. "Ali—"
"And—" he cut me off, pointing a finger at me like a lawyer delivering a damning piece of evidence, "—at no point did you avoid eye contact, act like a weirdo, or suddenly remember an urgent meeting with the Pope."
I put the dumbbell down and gave him a flat look. "What's your point?"
"My point," Ali said, sitting up and lacing his fingers together like a mastermind revealing his grand scheme, "is that I was right."
I shook my head, grabbing another weight. "Don't start."
"I told you to stop being an asshole to her."
"I wasn't—"
"You were," he interrupted. "You were acting like she personally ran over your childhood dog. And now look at you—sharing deep belly laughs at Marine Drive, probably staring at her when she wasn't looking—"
I scoffed. "I wasn't."
"Liar."
I set the weight down with a little too much force. "Ali."
He grinned, unfazed. "Listen, bro, I don't need you to admit it. The facts speak for themselves. You had fun. She had fun. And now you guys are, what? Besties? Running off to the beach together, whispering secrets into the wind?"
I rubbed my forehead. "You're so dramatic."
"I'm right is what I am."
I sighed, grabbing my water bottle. "We're just friends."
Ali raised a brow. "For now."
I shot him a look.
Ali smirked. "Relax, man. I'm playing the long game."
That was what worried me.
Ali let the silence stretch for a moment before tilting his head. "You know… You really didn't know, did you?"
I frowned. "Know what?"
"That she's never been in a relationship before."
I hesitated, my grip tightening on the bottle. "I mean… yeah. She told me."
Ali watched me carefully. "And?"
"And what?"
"And you think that's adorable, don't you?"
I scoffed. "Shut up."
Ali leaned back, shaking his head with a knowing smile. "Man, you're so gone."
I exhaled and ran a hand through my hair. And before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.
"I'm scared, man."
Ali blinked. His smirk faded, replaced by something more serious. "Of what?"
I sighed, staring down at the weights. "Of this. Of her. Of... getting close. Because I know myself. I know how this goes."
Ali was quiet for once.
I continued, my voice lower now. "I like spending time with her, alright? She's—" I paused, shaking my head. "She's great. But you know me. You know what I've seen. What I grew up with. I've never felt like this before, and it scares me, man."
Ali's jaw tightened, and for the first time tonight, there was no teasing, no smirk—just quiet understanding. He didn't need me to spell it out. He knew.
"You're not your father, Irshad."
I swallowed. "Yeah, well. He probably thought that once too."
Ali shook his head. "That's not the same."
I let out a dry chuckle. "Doesn't matter. Every time I think about letting someone in—really in—I just... I can't. And Seerat, man—" I hesitated, gripping the water bottle tighter. "She's different. She's not someone you screw around with. She's not someone you hurt."
Ali exhaled, running a hand down his face. "So what, you're just gonna keep her at arm's length forever?"
"Yes." My voice was firm, with no hesitation. "I have to."
Ali studied me for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded. "Alright. No matchmaking. I promise."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"But just so we're clear," he added, smirking again, "you're still so gone."
I groaned, throwing my towel at him. Ali just laughed.
But later, as I went through my sets, my mind drifted—
To the way she'd laughed so freely tonight, the way the wind had played with her hair, the way her eyes had crinkled when I told her that ridiculous STD story.
And maybe, just maybe, Ali had a point.