Alaya's POV

November has always held a soft corner in my heart.

Not because I was born in it — but because somehow, November always brings good things.

The breeze turns cooler, the mornings gentler, and life... a little more hopeful.

It was 7th November 2017 — the day that changed everything.

My first day of college.

Yes, you heard it right — I was officially 18, finally stepping into a new chapter of life.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the red kurta I had ironed the night before. It was simple, with white embroidery along the sleeves. I paired it with white capri pants and a soft red organza dupatta. My hair was tied in a neat braid, no makeup — just a bit of lip balm.

“Going full desi today, huh?” my elder sister peeked into my room, her voice teasing.

“College girls wear jeans now, you know. And BB cream. You sure you want to go like that?” she added, eyeing my bare face.

I smiled politely, pretending it didn’t sting. “I’m comfortable like this.”

“You should at least cover those spots, Alaya. Your skin already looks too... tanned. Add pimples to that and—”

“Okay, okay, enough fashion tips!” I cut her off before her words could go any deeper.

She left with a laugh, but the mirror in front of me felt sharper now.

Then came my brother — always ready with a joke. “Aye dusky heroine! Going to college or a shaadi? That red kurta is brighter than you.”

Mama laughed from the kitchen. “Let her be! It’s her first day.”

I’ve always been a simple girl. People said I wasn't pretty — dusky skin, a few pimple scars... and maybe they were right. But I always believed every girl is beautiful in her own way. And maybe, just maybe, someone out there would see me the way I wanted to be seen.

“Alaya, come early! Have your breakfast or you'll get late!” Mama’s voice echoed from the kitchen. She never had a second to herself in the mornings, always bustling around to make sure everything was perfect for the day. I loved how she cared, how she was always there for me — even when I didn't ask.

I quickly finished my breakfast, but I was already running late. Of course.

Mama came into the room, putting a tupperware of food in my bag. “Don’t forget your lunch, Alaya. Don’t skip meals!”

“Mama, I’m not a kid anymore!” I pouted, but it didn’t stop her from fussing over me.

“I know, but you're still my little girl.” She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I smiled back, feeling the warmth of her care settle in my chest. I grabbed my bag and ran out the door.

Arriving at the college, the nerves kicked in.

Why was I always late? I could never seem to get my timing right. But today, I wasn’t just late — I was already standing at the door, feeling the weight of every eye on me.

“Why are you late?” the professor asked, raising an eyebrow. He stood there in the doorway, arms crossed. Every student in the class turned their attention to me.

I could feel my face heat up. The whole class was staring. It felt like my insecurities were suddenly in the spotlight. I looked down at my hands, feeling a rush of panic. I was always so shy, always insecure about how I looked. Being called out like this made my heart race.

“I... I’m sorry, sir. There was traffic on my way.” I stammered, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

But he just nodded and motioned for me to go in.

“Sit at the back, please.” His voice was soft, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment as I walked to the last row.

The rest of the class was spent with me quietly sitting at the back, trying not to draw attention to myself. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to notice me as the “late girl.”

The days went by like this.

But something changed after a week. I made my first friend. Niya, a chubby, bubbly girl with a heart full of laughter. We clicked instantly. I didn’t even have to try hard to make her like me. She just did. That’s what I loved about her — no pretensions, no need to fit in.

“Alaya, is your portal open yet?” she asked one afternoon, her tone filled with genuine curiosity.

“No, yaar. I don’t even know how to open it.” I sighed. I had always been a science student, never into tech or computers.

“Oh, come on! The red hoodie boy is opening everyone’s portal today!” Niya said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Who’s the red hoodie boy?” I asked, confused. I’d heard of him, but I didn’t know much about him.

Niya’s eyes widened. “You don’t know him?! Oh my God, you have to meet him! He’s the guy who’s been opening portals all week! Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Before I could even respond, Niya grabbed my arm and pulled me down one of the college corridors. We passed a group of girls laughing together, their backs turned toward us.

Niya stopped, pointed, and whispered, “There he is.”

I looked up to see a guy sitting on a bench, his red hoodie almost glowing in the hallway light. He was focused on his laptop, opening a portal for someone else.

“Hello!” Niya greeted him cheerfully, interrupting his concentration.

And then, he looked up.

For a second, everything around me seemed to disappear.

His brown eyes met mine — deep and calm.

It was like time paused, just for that moment. No words, just a silent connection that neither of us could explain. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks flush.

To be continued... 💌