Keeping up Pretences

She had seen him. She pretended not to, but she did. She always did...pretend. She had to or everyone would know. After all he too pretended right. He too acted like he didn't know of her existence, but he kept track of her every move. What she said, who she spoke to, whether she laughed when he cracked a joke, whether she looked at him when he entered the room. He noticed. Both of them played the game well.

It wasn’t love she knew that. You did not fall in love at age 13, her mother told her that. So did all her friends. But yet she knew there was a special thing between them. A thing which had not name. She could see it in his eyes too. In those rare moments when keeping up the the pretences just did not matter. When they looked at each other to seek a quiet ally, to seek approval. More importantly when they looked at each other for silent comfort.

But most times they pretended, like right now. Walking down the dimly lit alley,going home without her usual friends accompanying her, she pretended to have not seen him. But she felt touched that he had decided to follow her home, to see her safe. He on his part tried to remain hidden from her, so that she would not know that he was only a few feet behind her. That he would not let any harm come to her. He couldn’t let her know that he was there. He had to after all keep up the pretences.