Chapter 1

Jovial's spoon clattered against the side of her bowl as she jerked her gaze back to her lunch. Her brother, Arjun, grinned at her from across the cafeteria table, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Was not,” she muttered, pushing a grain of rice around her plate.

“Were too. At Rohan.”

“I was thinking.”

“About what? His hair? His eyes? The way he—”

“Henry.” She shot him a warning look. “Finish your food.”

But the damage was done. The name hung in the air like smoke, and Maya felt heat creep up her neck. She risked a glance toward the far end of the table where Rohan sat, laughing at something a friend said. He was always laughing, always easy, always exactly the kind of person who made her feel like a tangled knot of nerves.

She’d known him for six years. He was her brother’s best friend, practically family. He came over for dinner, crashed on their couch, borrowed Arjun’s car. And every time he walked into a room, Maya forgot how to breathe.

It was exhausting.

“You know,” Arjun said, lowering his voice, “if you actually talked to him, you might realize he’s just a guy.”

“I talk to him.”

“You say hi and then hide in your room.”

“That’s talking.”

Arjun snorted. “That’s avoiding.”

Maya didn’t answer because he wasn’t wrong. She’d spent the last two years perfecting the art of being just out of reach. She timed her trips to the kitchen, slipped out of gatherings early, and kept her headphones on whenever Rohan was around. It was easier than letting him see how much she cared.

Today, though, the universe seemed determined to test her.

She finished her lunch and stood, planning to escape to the library before her next class. She’d made it three steps when someone bumped into her from behind, and her bag slipped off her shoulder, spilling its contents across the floor.

“Sorry, sorry!”

Maya knelt, grabbing at pens and notebooks, and then a hand appeared in front of her. A familiar hand, holding her favorite water bottle.

She looked up.

Rohan smiled down at her. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she said, her voice coming out too high. She snatched the bottle from him and shoved it into her bag. “Thanks.”

“Here, let me help.”

Before she could protest, he crouched beside her, gathering the scattered items with an ease that made her feel clumsy. He smelled like soap and something warm, and Maya’s brain went blank.

“You dropped your sketchbook,” he said, holding it out.

She took it, careful not to let their fingers touch. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He stood and offered her his hand.

She stared at it for a second too long. Then she took it, and his fingers closed around hers, warm and firm. He pulled her up easily, and for a moment they stood close, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

“Maya?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got a pen behind your ear.”

Her hand flew to her ear, and she pulled off the pen, cheeks burning. “Right. Thanks.”

He laughed, soft and easy. “Anytime.”

Then he was gone, walking back to his seat, and Maya was left standing in the middle of the cafeteria with her heart hammering and her palms sweating.

She fled.

The library was quiet, and she found a corner table where she could pretend to study. But the words on the page blurred, and all she could think about was the way his hand had felt in hers. The brief, accidental contact that had sent a jolt through her entire body.

This was hopeless. She knew it was hopeless. He was her brother’s best friend. He probably thought of her as a kid sister, someone to tease and protect. Nothing more.

But then why had he held her hand a second longer than necessary?

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on her textbook. It didn’t matter. She would go to class, go home, and go back to avoiding him. It was the only thing that made sense.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Arjun.

Rohan’s coming over tonight. Try not to drool.

Maya groaned and dropped her head onto the table.

An hour later, she walked through the front door of her house, hoping to slip upstairs before anyone noticed. But her mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

“Maya? Can you grab the mail from the table? And there’s a package for Arjun.”

She sighed and turned toward the living room. The mail was on the coffee table, and she picked it up, sorting through bills and flyers. Then she noticed a small envelope with her name on it.

She opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the message was simple.

I know you’re watching. And I’m watching too.

Her blood went cold. Then hot. Her hands trembled as she read the words again.

There was no signature.

The front door opened, and she heard Arjun’s voice, followed by Rohan’s laugh.

Maya shoved the note into her pocket, her heart racing. She didn’t know who had written it, but one thing was certain: someone had noticed her. And they wanted her to know.