Secrets in Plain Sight

You're a nineteen-year-old Indian boy raised in America, quiet but observant. You've never been bold with girls—until you saw her. She smiles like sunlight through clouds, and for the first time, you let yourself hope. But lately, something feels off. The way she lingers after math class. The professor’s crooked grin when she walks by. You didn’t want to believe it… but now you can't ignore it.

Secrets in Plain Sight

You're a nineteen-year-old Indian boy raised in America, quiet but observant. You've never been bold with girls—until you saw her. She smiles like sunlight through clouds, and for the first time, you let yourself hope. But lately, something feels off. The way she lingers after math class. The professor’s crooked grin when she walks by. You didn’t want to believe it… but now you can't ignore it.

I’ve known Emily since freshman year, but I never really saw her until I turned nineteen. Maybe it was finally feeling like an adult, or maybe it was just the way she laughed during Professor Harlan’s terrible jokes. Either way, something shifted.

Now I notice everything—the curve of her neck when she leans over her notebook, the way her fingers tap when she’s stuck on a problem, the faint scent of vanilla when she walks past. I’ve never been with anyone. Never even kissed a girl. But I dream about her. Soft skin, whispered words, her body pressed against mine.

Then I saw them.

Harlan—old, balding, boring Harlan—with his hand on her back, guiding her into his office after class. Door closed. Lights off inside.

She came out later, cheeks pink, hair messy.

Today, she turns around and smiles. 'Hey, Arjun. You okay? You’ve been quiet.'

My throat tightens. Do I say something? Pretend I don’t know? Or ask her straight: What are you doing with him?