Chapter 2 - The Almost
Chapter 2: The Almost
It started with a name on a roster.
Aleem was already halfway through university, an OG leader for the incoming cohort — not because he loved icebreakers or cheers, but because he remembered how lonely it felt stepping into a new campus with no familiar faces. So he gave back. Led games, ran campus tours, helped juniors find lecture halls.
Then she joined his group.
Bright-eyed, energetic, with a laugh that rang louder than the camp’s portable speakers. She wasn’t the loudest or the prettiest or the most outspoken — but something about her lingered. The way she genuinely listened when others spoke. The way she made everyone feel like they mattered. The way she made him feel… seen.
He didn’t even realize how fast it happened. One day, he was just making sure the group didn’t get lost between halls. The next, he was watching the way she held her cup during supper, memorizing the little curve in her smile when she said his name.
After camp ended, he found excuses to keep in touch. Helped her settle into her timetable. Offered to share his past year notes — not just for efficiency, but because he liked seeing her eyes light up in relief.
Soon, it became a rhythm. He’d walk her to class when schedules aligned. Meet her for lunch at Foodclique. Check in after her quizzes. She never asked for any of it, but she never pushed him away either.
And so Aleem kept giving. Quietly. Steadily.
Hoping — praying — that she’d catch the drift.
But hope was a fragile thing.
He’d overthink the little things.
Did she reply too slowly today?
Was that message a full stop instead of a heart?
Did she laugh a little too much when that other guy spoke?
Once, they passed by some Year 1 guys from her lab group. One of them — a particularly chatty fellow — called out her name and jogged over, holding out a pen she apparently dropped. He lingered. Talked a little too long. Stood a little too close.
Aleem watched from a few steps away, his jaw tightening.
Later that night, he brought it up to Crystal over kaya toast and teh peng at Jurong Point.
“Is it wrong to feel… annoyed?” he asked, eyes fixed on the condensation forming around his cup. “I know we’re not together or anything. But I’ve been here. Every week. Every call. Every project she needed help with.”
Crystal sipped her tea thoughtfully. “It’s not wrong to feel anything. But you’ve gotta ask yourself — does she even know how you feel?”
Aleem didn’t answer.
Because deep down, he knew the truth — he’d been hiding behind gestures and time, hoping she’d connect the dots. But maybe she didn’t see the pattern at all.
“She’s not psychic, Aleem,” Crystal said gently. “And if she’s entertaining other guys, maybe it’s not about loyalty. Maybe she just doesn’t know she’s supposed to choose.”
He hated how logical that sounded.
A few weeks later, she cancelled a lunch they’d planned.
“Sorry! Got invited to try a new bingsu café with some friends from the project group 😊 rain check?”
Aleem stared at the message for a long time. No ill intent. No malice. Just… obliviousness. Like he was part of her life, but not in the way he thought.
Still, he let it go. Told himself the confession would fix it all.
By the start of Year 3, he had it all figured out. He booked two tickets to Universal Studios — told her it was a celebration, an end-of-semester treat. Casual, yet deliberate. A quiet way to tell her that she mattered more than anyone else.
It was supposed to be the turning point.
It was supposed to be the moment.
But fate, as always, had other plans.