As he walked away, turning back just once with a soft smile, Zia stood rooted on the path for a moment longer, as if moving might break the spell of what had just happened. The park was slowly emptying, the trees, painting the sky in the softest orange-pink. The air felt lighter now, and yet heavier — the kind of heavy that came with a full heart.
She walked toward home slowly, her bag swinging slightly, her steps unhurried, like she was still floating somewhere between the present and that quiet moment when he held her hand and looked at her like she mattered.
Her phone buzzed just before she reached the main road.
"You smiled the whole way home, didn't you?"
"Like a fool. Couldn't stop."
"Same here. I kept replaying everything."
Zia grinned at the screen.
"Me too. When do we meet again?"
"Don't ask questions that hurt."
She laughed, quietly, looking around just to make sure no one saw how completely in love she looked.
That night, their phones stayed warm in their hands. They talked for hours. About everything and nothing. His favorite music. Her weird obsession with mango-flavored candies.
The way she fixed her hair when she was nervous. The way his voice softened when he said her name.
"I wish I could freeze time today."
"You kinda did. It's stuck in my mind forever now."
At some point, the world outside disappeared — no homework, no pressure, no exams. Just two people, texting like the moon wouldn't set.
The next day, life returned with its usual rhythm — teachers calling roll, pens clicking, Ruqayyah yelling about someone stealing her eraser again, Sana threatening to become class monitor "just for revenge."
Zia stepped into the classroom still slightly dazed, her face glowing with leftover blush.
Sana spotted her first. "Oh no. Look at that smile. That's a boy smile, isn't it?"
Ruqayyah turned from her desk, eyes narrowed dramatically. "You met him? When? Where? Why wasn't I informed like your emergency contact?"
Zia couldn't hide it. She just buried her face in her hands as they squealed like kids.
"I need details. Now. All of them," Sana said, dragging her to their bench.
Ruqayyah crossed her arms. "I want screenshots. Evidence. A timeline."
Zia laughed so hard she nearly choked on air. "You guys are insane."
"Insanely supportive," Sana corrected.
"I'll tell you," Zia whispered, "but after class."
"Deal. And also… let's plan a trip. Like… we need to do something chaotic before we're drowned in test papers again."
That's how the idea was born — their zoo trip.
It was impulsive. Decided on a Thursday. Approved on a Friday. Executed on a sunny Sunday morning.
They arrived at the zoo together, already giggling like they had their own inside sitcom running. Zia was wrapped in warm brown, looking like a walking cup of chai, calm and collected. Sana, in her checkered black outfit, kept adjusting her sleeves like she was about to lead a secret K-drama mission. And Ruqayyah — oh, Ruqayyah — in her bold pink-and-black mix, walked like she owned the zoo, pausing dramatically at the entrance as if the paparazzi might spot her at any second.
"Why are you walking like it's a fashion runway?" Sana asked, snorting.
"In case National Geographic is watching," Ruqayyah replied, flicking her wrist like a diva. "They might think I'm one of the rare species."
Zia shook her head, laughing. "You're definitely rare, alright. Endangered even."
"Excuse me," Ruqayyah said, pretending to be offended, "I'm the main character today. Don't ruin my entrance."
They stood in line for tickets, pretending they were VIP guests and whispering to each other in fake accents. Ruqayyah insisted they speak in "zoo language," which apparently included random animal noises. She meowed at the ticket counter. Sana barked. Zia hissed like a snake and then instantly regretted it when the man at the counter gave them the most confused stare of his life.
"This is why we don't get invited anywhere," Zia muttered under her breath, trying not to laugh.
As soon as they entered, the madness began, Ruqayyah gasped. "Do you think the monkeys are still single?" she whispered dramatically.
"They'd probably run away if they saw you coming," Sana replied with a grin.
"I'm offended. I'm a catch," Ruqayyah said, flipping her imaginary hair.
"And they throw bananas," Zia added. "Perfect match."
The monkey enclosure was their first stop, and naturally, it had to involve screaming.
"Look at that one!" Sana pointed. "It's staring at me!"
"It senses your fear," Ruqayyah whispered.
The monkey jumped. Sana shrieked. Zia dropped her juice box. Ruqayyah stood calmly… recording everything.
"Best. Content. Ever," she said, laughing.
They walked for hours — past towering elephants, lazy crocodiles sunbathing like they had no deadlines, and tigers who stared at them like tired kings. They paused at the hippo enclosure where Ruqayyah said, "He looks like he just gave up on life," making Sana burst into giggles. The rhinoceros barely moved, and the snakes sent a small chill down their spines.
Near the bird section, they spotted a peacock proudly displaying its feathers like it was ready for a fashion show.
"Aesthetic picture time!" Sana grinned, already getting her phone ready.
They lined up in front of the peacock — trying to stay still, trying to look cute. Ruqayyah took a graceful step forward, aiming for the center of the frame.
And then — crunch.
Her foot hit a stone. She slipped, arms flailing for balance, and landed on the grass with a loud thud right next to a bush.
"Ruqayyah!" Sana gasped, phone still in hand.
"I'm fine!" she shouted quickly, though her pride might've been slightly injured. "This is why I don't do nature."
Zia covered her mouth to hide a laugh. "You almost took out the peacock on your way down."
Ruqayyah sat up dramatically. "If anyone posts that picture, I'll cry in HD."
They helped her up, brushing leaves off her sleeves while the peacock casually walked away, like even it had secondhand embarrassment.
Sana was laughing so hard she almost dropped her phone.
"Pose ruined. Forever," Zia said, showing them a blurry photo of Ruqayyah mid-trip.
"I'm going to haunt that photo," Ruqayyah replied.
They sat on a shaded bench, their food laid out like a mini picnic feast. Everything was homemade — Zia had woken up early to cook creamy pasta, Sana had packed her signature fried rice with extra veggies, and Ruqayyah had prepared spicy noodles that looked dangerously red but smelled incredible.
"Careful," Zia warned, eyeing Ruqayyah's plate. "Your noodles look like they can cause emotional damage."
"Exactly," Ruqayyah grinned. "Spice equals personality."
On the way to the zoo, they had stopped by a shop and picked up chips, cakes, biscuits, and cold drinks — their bags now looked like they had raided a mini-mart.
Sana tore open a packet of chips like she hadn't eaten in a week. "I love how we all cooked something, but still bought half the store anyway."
"It's called balance," Zia said, passing her a cold drink.
Ruqayyah unwrapped a small chocolate cake she'd brought in a container. It had slightly melted in the heat, but no one minded.
"This is heaven," Sana said with her mouth full, pointing at the cake. "Can I marry this?"
"No," Zia said immediately. "It's taken."
"By her fridge," Ruqayyah added with a wink. "They've been in a long-term relationship."
They all laughed, sipping cold drinks and munching on chips. There were crumbs on their laps, sauce on their fingers, and jokes flying in every direction — but it didn't matter. This was their moment — three girls, homemade food, a zoo full of animals, and memories being made between bites.
By mid-afternoon, they were sunburnt, sweaty, and happier than ever.
"Promise me we'll never forget today," Ruqayyah said, lying back on the grass.
Zia smiled, eyes on the sky. "This day is saved in my brain forever."
Back in school, the zoo trip became legend.
Every day, someone would bring it up.
"The way you screamed—"
"That monkey loved you!"
"Zia dropped her juice box like she was in a horror movie."
The videos made rounds in their private chat. The memes started. And the inside jokes never ended.
But time had other plans.
Class 11 moved fast. Suddenly there were assignments due, half-yearlies, unit tests. The pressure of the final exams began to build like storm clouds.
They tried group studying once. Once.
"Focus, guys," Zia said, flipping her Business Studies book.
"Why does the textbook say 'distill'? Are we making alcohol?" Ruqayyah asked.
"I need tea," Sana declared, tossing her pen. "This brain isn't braining anymore."
They ended up playing antakshari and making Maggi.
But eventually, reality hit. Notes were revised. Chapters read. Zia studied late into the night, texting her boyfriend in short breaks.
"Tired?"
"Always."
"You'll do fine. I believe in you."
Sometimes, that was all she needed to hear.
And then came results day.
It was too quiet. Too serious. The envelope in Zia's hand felt heavier than her bag.
Sana opened hers first. Her mouth dropped.
"Eighty-four!" she gasped. "I got 84!"
Zia and Ruqayyah looked at each other. They didn't speak. Just opened their own slowly.
Zia: "57."
Ruqayyah: "59."
A second of silence.
Then they looked at Sana, completely deadpan.
Zia looked at her paper again. 57. It wasn't great. But it wasn't the end.
She passed. And more than that — she'd lived.
She glanced around the room. The same benches. Same walls. But something had changed. She had changed.
From awkward silences to loud laughter. From strangers to best friends. From just classmates to a family.
Later that evening, sitting at her desk, she stared at her mark sheet for a moment. Then picked up her phone.
"57," she typed.
"Still proud of you," he replied instantly.
"You gave your best. And I love you anyway."
Zia blinked back a tear. Smiled.
Some things couldn't be measured by marks. Like how much she laughed this year. How deeply she felt. Or how far she'd come from the girl she used to be.
Class 11 had ended.
Not with perfection. But with memories she'd never forget.
And that, she thought, was more than enough.