ƒιяѕт ¢яυѕн

She was a premature adult. She was 13, but lived the life and enjoyed the freedom of a 20 yr old female of a conservative background. She was brought up that way, but at heart, she always doubted herself. She believed that she was where she was supposed to belong. She lived and developed to talk, walk and live the way she was taught... by her parents, by her teachers, by the damn society.
Four months in India. Four long months before she'd meet her friends back in school. This was going to be one hell of a vacation. Ofcourse, who wouldn't celebrate not having to study. But she knew that soon, she'll miss not wanting to go to school.
She hadn't met Rameez since a year and half. Her only friend in India who lived opposite to her home. She was 15. She looked up to her as a sister she never had. Plus there were other reasons they hung around together.
She liked Rameez's cousin. Rameez kinda knew it.
Initially, it was just enjoying Omar's company, laughing at his jokes, and eating greasy chips and pickles with him that she looked forward to. Probably being 13, she felt 'ready'. She felt mature. She felt independent. She thought things would've changed because the magic number 12 that stuck as her age for a very long year slipped to 13. She did not know 13 was unlucky.
Just days after her vacation started, she learnt his routine. He left home at 07:55 a.m. for college. Navy blue pants, neatly ironed crisp white shirt, awesome hair. He wud vroom away on his bike seconds later. She would still be standing at the doorway, looking on until his the back of his head disappeared. Those mornings were beautiful. Her tea would have a different aroma and taste when her eyes lingered on him. For those couple of seconds, she'd be up early during her vacation. She didn't know she'd sleep like a sloth later in life.
He'd be back exactly at 5:45. The routine almost never changed. That was also tea-time, an excuse to enjoy the tea, and some eye candy while sitting with a magazine on the marble steps in the verandah. She doesn't remember which magazine she had in her hand. She never read it.
She couldn't visit Rameez often, because she was busy studying, the nerd that she was, and continues to be 6 years later. Weekends were her only chance.. to catch up, to let Rameez tease her when Omar was around.
There was one problem. Rameez, with her parents, would soon move out of Omar's house, shifting to a more royal sized one several streets away. Half of her didn't want her friend to move, half of her began listing the excuses to visit Omar's house, ofcourse, to treat her eyes.
Rameez shifted. The excuses stopped working on her mom. She got over him, she eventually, really grew up, not the way people wanted her to, but the way she allowed herself to.
Four months did get over. Yearly one month vacations followed, but she never tried to meet him, or even steal a glance at him. Okay she did try to look, but not with much hope. Once in a while they did meet each other's eyes. The look on both the pairs of eyes was the kind shared among strangers in the bank or tiles showroom she now often visited. Damn society. Living with people whom you want to want to live with you costs you little pleasures, like friendly smiles.
Rameez and she grew apart. They don't talk anymore.
She thinks she saw Omar today. She isn't sure.
She is me.