The next morning, I was brushing my teeth in the hostel washroom when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Maddy.
Maddy: "My best friend Harsh is already on campus. Told him to show you around today. Don't get lost, okay? "
I grinned at my screen. I wasn't sure what to expect—Maddy hadn't gone into much detail about Harsh. But if he trusted him, I figured I could too.
An hour later, I met him outside the hostel gate.
He was tall, lean, with a lazy kind of confidence and this look on his face that said he probably didn't take anything too seriously. He gave me a nod as I walked up.
"So you're Diya," he said, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets.
"And you're Harsh."
"Yup. Let's go before the sun tries to kill us," he said, turning toward the main building. "I'll show you around."
I laughed. "Thanks for helping me. You didn't have to."
He shrugged. "Maddy asked. That makes it my problem."
As we walked across campus—the cafeteria, library, main halls—I found myself relaxing into his rhythm. He wasn't trying to impress me or babysit me. He was just… Harsh. Blunt, sarcastic, but strangely easy to talk to.
At some point, I nudged him. "You know, you're kind of like Maddy's brother. Should I call you my campus bro or something?"
He stopped walking and looked at me, half amused. "Yeah, no. I don't do the whole 'brother' thing."
I blinked. "Why not?"
"Because the word's overused. Everyone's everyone's 'brother' now. I've got my real siblings. That's enough."
"So what do I call you then?" I teased.
"Harsh works just fine," he said with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, Harsh."
We ended up at one of the outdoor hangout spots where a group of his friends had gathered—some sipping cold coffee, others arguing over something on a phone screen. He introduced me casually, and just like that, I was folded into their chaos.
They didn't treat me like Maddy's girlfriend. They just treated me like Diya. And for the first time since arriving, I didn't feel out of place.
Later that evening, back in my room, I called Maddy.
"So your best friend is... interesting," I said, dropping onto my bed.
He laughed. "Let me guess—he refused to let you call him your campus brother?"
"Yup," I said. "But I kinda like that about him. He's real. And his friends are fun."
"Told you he'd take care of you in his own weird way."
"You were right."
And maybe I was starting to find my own rhythm here—new faces, new jokes, unexpected friendships.
I still missed Maddy. But I didn't feel lost anymore.
Sometimes, all it took was one familiar thread in a brand-new tapestry to feel like you belonged.