09 Eighteenth Blast
Morning sunlight slipped through the thin curtains of my room, landing softly across my face. I groaned and turned to the other side, pulling the blanket higher over my head, trying to steal a few more minutes of sleep. For a moment the house was quiet, peaceful in that sleepy early-morning way.
Then my bedroom door swung open.
“Happy birthday, beta!”
I blinked in surprise as Maa and Papa walked in together, both smiling in a way that immediately made me sit up.
Maa was holding a small plate with a tiny piece of chocolate cake and a little bowl with kumkum.
Papa stood beside her, already looking far too proud of himself for someone who had probably been awake for hours.
“Eighteen already,” Papa said warmly. “Our little girl is growing up too fast.”
I rubbed my eyes, still half asleep, but a smile slowly formed on my face. “Thank you, Maa… thank you, Papa.”
Maa sat beside me on the bed and gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face before placing a small red tilak on my forehead. Her touch was soft, affectionate, the kind that instantly filled my chest with warmth.
“Happy birthday, Niyati,” she said again, her voice full of love.
She fed me a small bite of cake while Papa watched with an amused smile. A second later I heard the faint click of his phone camera.
“Maa!” I groaned immediately, covering my face. “I just woke up. I must look horrible.”
“You look beautiful,” Maa said, laughing softly. “Now eat properly.”
I rolled my eyes but still finished the bite she offered, the sweetness of the cake lingering on my tongue.
After a few more birthday wishes and playful teasing from Papa about how I was “officially growing up,” Maa finally stood up from the bed and dusted off her saree.
“Alright,” she said, clapping her hands lightly. “Birthday girl still has school today. Go get ready.”
I stretched lazily before reaching for my phone on the bedside table. The moment the screen lit up, a flood of notifications appeared.
Messages. Dozens of them.
Our class group chat had already exploded with birthday wishes, emojis, voice notes, and dramatic memes. A couple of my cousins had sent their usual over-the-top messages too.
I smiled as I scrolled through them, reading each one.
Then, without even realizing it, my thumb slowed down.
My eyes moved through the names again.
I wasn’t sure why I was looking for it.
But I was.
Diya had texted me early in the morning.
Happy birthdayyyyy Niyuuu! See you in school bestie!!!
I smiled at her message.
But the name I had unconsciously expected to see wasn’t there.
Ansh.
I stared at the screen for a moment before locking it and placing it back on the table. It was silly to even think about it. Why would he text me? He probably didn’t even know it was my birthday.
Shaking off the thought, I got up and quickly got ready for school. By the time I came downstairs, the smell of freshly made parathas had already filled the house.
Maa placed a plate in front of me while Papa sat at the dining table reading the morning news on his tablet.
“Sit and eat properly,” Maa instructed.
I nodded and started eating while Papa looked up at me over his glasses.
“So,” he said casually, “any plans today?”
I shrugged. “School… and probably studying with Diya later. Exams are close.”
Maa and Papa exchanged a small glance before Maa spoke again.
“Well, actually… we were thinking of something.”
I looked up suspiciously. “What?”
Papa smiled. “We’re throwing a small birthday party for you tonight.”
My fork paused mid-air.
“A party?” I repeated, surprised.
“Yes,” Maa said calmly. “Nothing too big. Just close friends.”
“Maa…” I started, already feeling slightly embarrassed. “You didn’t have to do that.”
But she waved away my protest immediately. “Eighteen is special, Niyati. Of course we’re celebrating.”
Papa leaned back in his chair and pointed toward my phone. “Invite your friends.”
My stomach did a small flip at the thought.
Friends.
Which meant Diya would definitely come.
And if Diya came…
My mind instantly drifted toward someone else in her house.
Ansh.
I quickly pushed the thought aside and focused back on my breakfast.
“Just invite your close friends,” Maa continued. “Diya, maybe a few classmates. Whoever you want.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“The cake will arrive around seven,” Papa added. “People can start coming by eight.”
Eight.
For some reason that time echoed in my head.
Would he come along with Diya if she came? Or would he stay in his room like he sometimes did when her friends visited?
I finished my breakfast and stood up, slinging my school bag over my shoulder.
“I’ll invite everyone after school,” I said.
Maa nodded approvingly. “Good. And come home on time today.”
“Okay.”
As I stepped outside the house and started walking toward school, the cool morning air brushed against my face.
Eighteenth.
It felt strange. Like something had quietly shifted overnight.
And deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight might turn out very different from what I expected.
By evening, the house barely looked like my house anymore.
Colorful fairy lights hung along the balcony railings, casting a soft golden glow across the living room.
Maa had placed small decorations on the walls, and the dining table was covered with snacks, bowls of chips, and plates neatly arranged for the guests.
The smell of freshly fried samosas drifted from the kitchen, mixing with the sweetness of the cake that had just been delivered.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room, nervously adjusting the sleeve of my dress for what felt like the hundredth time.
It wasn’t anything too fancy—just a soft pastel dress Maa had insisted I wear—but somehow tonight it felt different. Maybe it was because of the lights outside, the laughter already starting to fill the house, or the strange excitement fluttering in my chest.
Or maybe… it was because I kept thinking about him.
I shook my head quickly, trying to focus on something else.
“Stop overthinking,” I muttered to my reflection.
From downstairs, I could hear Papa greeting the first guests at the door.
“Niyati! Your friends are here!” Maa called.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my room and made my way downstairs.
The moment I entered the living room, a chorus of voices greeted me.
“Happy birthday, Niyati!”
My classmates gathered around me, some hugging me, others handing me small gift bags. Someone had already started playing music softly in the background, and the room buzzed with cheerful chatter.
Diya pushed her way through the crowd dramatically and wrapped her arms around me.
“Happy eighteen, Niyuuu!” she squealed.
I laughed and hugged her back. “Thank you! You came!”
“Of course I came. How could I miss my best friend’s birthday?”
She pulled away and looked me up and down with exaggerated approval. “Oho… look at you. Someone’s looking very pretty today.”
I rolled my eyes but felt my cheeks warm slightly.
More guests arrived, filling the living room with voices and laughter. Papa moved around offering drinks while Maa brought out plates of snacks for everyone.
For a while, I got lost in the excitement—talking, laughing, opening small gifts from friends.
But every few minutes, my eyes drifted toward the front door.
Almost unconsciously.
Diya noticed eventually.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked suddenly, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face.
“No one,” I replied quickly.
“Hmm,” she hummed suspiciously but didn’t press further.
Just then, Papa clapped his hands together. “Alright everyone! Time for the cake!”
Everyone gathered around the dining table where the big chocolate cake sat waiting, sixteen candles already glowing softly on top.
The room dimmed slightly as someone turned off the brighter lights.
“Make a wish!” Diya whispered beside me.
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, the noise around me faded.
And without even thinking, a single thought crossed my mind.
I wish…
Before I could finish it properly in my head, I blew out the candles.
Cheers and applause filled the room instantly.
“Cut the cake! Cut the cake!” someone shouted.
I laughed and sliced the first piece while everyone continued cheering.
But just as I looked up from the cake—
The front door opened.
A familiar voice spoke from the entrance.
“Looks like I’m late.”
My heart skipped.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, my eyes lifted toward the doorway.
And there he was.
Ansh.
Standing there casually, one hand pushing his hair back as he stepped inside.
The noise of the party suddenly faded in my ears.
Because in that moment, it felt like the entire room had disappeared—
And it was just him… looking straight at me.
The moment Ansh stepped into the house, the room seemed to shift around me.
It was ridiculous, really. The party was still loud—my friends laughing, someone playing music from their phone, Diya arguing with one of my classmates over who got the next piece of cake—but somehow my attention had locked onto him the second he appeared at the door.
He looked like he had just come from somewhere else entirely. Dark jeans, a simple shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly messy like he had run his hand through it one too many times.
And he was looking straight at me.
My heart skipped in a way I hated that it did.
“Arrey, bhai!” Diya’s voice cut through the room as she spotted him. “You finally decided to show up?”
Ansh shrugged lightly, stepping further inside. “Had something to finish.”
“You’re late,” she accused.
“Clearly,” he replied, glancing around at the crowd.
Then his eyes returned to me.
“Happy birthday, Niyati.”
The way he said it—calm, almost casual—shouldn’t have meant anything. But something about the way his gaze lingered made warmth creep up my neck.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
Diya suddenly shoved a plate toward him. “Here, feed the birthday girl cake. It’s tradition.”
“Diya!” I protested immediately.
But she was already pushing us closer together.
Ansh looked mildly amused as he picked up a small piece of cake from the plate. For a brief second, he held it up between us.
“Birthday girl,” he said.
I rolled my eyes but leaned forward slightly, letting him feed me the piece. My friends immediately started cheering and teasing.
“Okay okay, enough!” I laughed, swatting Diya’s arm as she clapped dramatically.
The party continued for another hour after that—music, snacks, people talking all over each other. Slowly, some of my classmates began leaving, waving goodbye and thanking my parents before heading home.
The house gradually became quieter.
I had just finished placing some empty plates in the kitchen when I stepped back into the hallway.
And nearly walked straight into Ansh.
I stopped abruptly.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said casually.
“I’m not,” I replied quickly.
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
Before I could say anything else, he glanced toward the living room where Diya and a few others were still talking loudly.
“Come here,” he said quietly.
Without waiting for my answer, he moved toward the small balcony at the side of the house.
My heart started beating faster for reasons I didn’t want to think about.
After a moment of hesitation, I followed.
The balcony was dimly lit by a single string of fairy lights. The sounds of the party were muffled from inside, leaving the space strangely quiet.
Ansh leaned against the railing and looked at me for a moment.
“Sixteen,” he said thoughtfully.
I crossed my arms slightly, suddenly self-conscious. “Yes. That’s how birthdays work.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Then he reached into his pocket.
“For you.”
He held out a small box.
I stared at it in surprise. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Just open it,” he said.
I hesitated before taking the box from his hand. It was small and neatly wrapped.
Carefully, I opened it.
Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, simple but beautiful, with a tiny charm hanging from it.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
“It’s… really pretty,” I said softly.
“Good,” he replied. “I was hoping you’d like it.”
I looked up at him. “Thank you, Ansh.”
He stepped closer then, taking the bracelet gently from the box.
“Give me your hand.”
My breath caught slightly as I extended my wrist.
His fingers brushed my skin while fastening the clasp, the touch light but deliberate. The small contact sent a strange shiver through me.
When he finished, he didn’t move away immediately.
His gaze lingered on me again, darker now, the playful calm from earlier replaced with something more intense.
“Eighteen suits you,” he said quietly.
My cheeks warmed instantly.
Before I could respond, we both heard Diya’s voice from inside.
“Niyati! Where did you disappear?”
We stepped apart quickly.
“I’m here!” I called back.
Ansh’s lips curved slightly as he leaned closer just enough for only me to hear.
“Don’t lose it,” he murmured, glancing briefly at the bracelet around my wrist.
Then he walked back toward the living room like nothing had happened.
Leaving me standing there, staring at the bracelet… and trying to calm the wild beating of my heart.
By the time the last of the guests had left and the house finally settled into silence, the excitement of the evening had begun to fade into a soft, lingering warmth.
I was sitting on the edge of my bed, still wearing the same dress from the party. I knew I should probably change, wash off the light makeup Maa had insisted on putting on me earlier, and actually try to sleep. But for some reason, I hadn’t moved yet.
My attention was completely fixed on the delicate silver bracelet resting around my wrist.
The small charm hanging from it glimmered faintly under the dim yellow light of my bedside lamp as I slowly turned my hand from side to side. Every little movement made it catch the light differently.
A small smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.
Ansh’s gift.
I traced the bracelet lightly with my fingertips, remembering the moment on the balcony when he had fastened it around my wrist himself. The memory replayed so vividly in my mind that I could almost feel the brush of his fingers against my skin again.
The way his gaze had lingered on me.
The way his voice had softened when he wished me.
My cheeks warmed instantly.
It was ridiculous how easily he could affect me.
I leaned back slightly on my hands, staring at the bracelet again, my thoughts drifting back to him without permission.
That was when I heard it.
A soft sound.
Tap.
My entire body froze.
For a moment I stayed completely still, wondering if I had imagined it. The house was quiet, and sometimes old windows made strange noises at night.
But then it came again.
Tap. Tap.
My head snapped toward the window.
My heart instantly started pounding.
My room was on the first floor.
No one should be knocking on my window.
A nervous chill ran down my spine.
For a few seconds I simply stared at it, half expecting something—or someone—to suddenly appear through the glass.
Another knock.
Quieter this time, but unmistakable.
A thousand ridiculous possibilities rushed through my mind all at once, each more terrifying than the last.
I quickly stood up from the bed, my eyes scanning the room until they landed on the hockey stick resting beside my desk.
Without wasting another second, I grabbed it tightly.
If someone was actually outside my window, they were definitely getting hit first and explained later.
Clutching the stick like my life depended on it, I began walking slowly toward the window. Every step felt louder than the last in the quiet room, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
I stopped just beside the frame, gripping the stick firmly.
Another knock echoed softly.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the window open in one quick motion and raised the hockey stick high.
“HEY—!”
My arm froze mid-air.
Ansh stood there outside my window.
One hand was gripping the frame while the other balanced him against the ledge. His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the hockey stick hovering dangerously above his head.
“Whoa,” he said quickly, raising his free hand in surrender. “Easy there, Babygirl.”
My brain struggled for a moment to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.
“You—?!” I gasped, lowering the stick in disbelief. “What are you doing here?!”
“Trying not to get attacked,” he replied dryly, glancing at the weapon still in my hand.
My heart was still racing as I stared at him.
“You climbed up to my window?” I whispered in shock.
“Looks like it.”
“At midnight?”
“Technically, yes.”
I opened my mouth to argue further, but before I could stop him, Ansh swung himself through the window and landed inside my room with surprising ease.
I stared at him, utterly stunned.
“Are you crazy?” I whispered urgently. “What if someone sees you here?”
He reached back calmly and closed the window behind him.
“They won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“I checked.”
The confidence in his voice only made me more nervous.
I was still holding the hockey stick like an idiot while he stood there looking completely at ease in my room.
Then his gaze slowly dropped to my wrist.
The bracelet.
His expression changed almost instantly, something softer flickering across his face.
“You’re wearing it,” he said quietly.
I instinctively lifted my wrist slightly, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.
“Of course I am,” I murmured.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The room felt strangely smaller now.
Quieter.
More intense.
Ansh took a slow step toward me.
Then another.
My breath caught slightly as the distance between us disappeared.
He stopped right in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint tiredness in his eyes and the small crease near his brow.
His fingers gently reached for my wrist.
The moment his skin brushed mine, a shiver ran up my arm.
“You kept looking at it tonight,” he murmured softly.
My heart stumbled.
“How would you even know that?” I asked.
His lips curved faintly.
“I notice things.”
His fingers lingered on my wrist for a moment longer before sliding down to intertwine with my hand.
The warmth of his touch spread instantly through my chest.
“Ansh…” I whispered nervously.
“Hmm?”
“You really shouldn’t be here.”
“Probably not,” he admitted.
“Then why are you?”
His gaze lifted to meet mine again, darker now.
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
The words hit me like a sudden rush of heat.
Before I could respond, his free hand lifted slowly, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
The touch lingered longer than it should have.
My breathing became uneven.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, his voice low and rough now, “how hard it was not touching you tonight.”
My fingers tightened unconsciously against his shirt.
He stepped even closer.
Now there was barely any space between us.
His eyes dropped briefly to my lips.
My pulse jumped wildly.
Slowly, he leaned down toward me.
Closer.
Closer.
I could feel his breath now, warm against my skin.
My eyes fluttered shut instinctively.
His lips were just about to meet mine—
When suddenly, a sound echoed from the hallway outside my room.
Footsteps.
My eyes flew open instantly.
Ansh stiffened beside me.
Both of us turned toward the door at the same time, our hands still tightly clasped together.
The footsteps were getting closer.
And someone was definitely walking toward my room.