Chapter 4
1245 Words
"If you give thanks, I will give you more."
-Al-Quran
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Gloomy light poured through the curtains, faintly illuminating my bedroom.
I lay on my bed, gazing at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow would bring for me. It is first day of A-levels, meaning I would need to get a grip of myself, be confident, keep my back straight and chin high.
Sighing, I rolled over to my right, catching sight of the twin bed—a few feet away from mine--unmade from a year and a half. It's been so much time, so many moments have been made, but that day still seems like it was yesterday.
My chest felt heavy from the guilt that made its way through me, the worries numbing my feelings. I feel the wetness on my arm where my head rests, but I don't feel the tears falling out. I hear the loud breathing, yet I don't feel any air entering my lungs.
And then it happens. The twist inside my stomach causes me to hunch forward like a ball. Bile rises up to my throat. I try to swallow it back in, but it threatens to choke me. So, I run. Upon reaching the bathroom, I empty everything inside me. The pain. Guilt. Sadness. The anger. I watch it one last time before flushing the toilet. The clean water replacement matches my current state now.
Clean of thoughts uninvited, no pain, just existence.
Tada. I am ready for school.
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First day of school was crazy. I had to constantly run from here to there, up and down the stairs to look for the right classes, as it was the start of the semester. A-level was supposed to be a sort of 'freedom' in some people's perspective, as compared to O-levels.
Well, we were gonna see that.
"You're going to America for some months."
Or, I guess not.
"Shahdab's going to go with you," Mother says, trying to act as casual as possible, while she cleans the dishes. "Remember Mrs. Khan coming over? They're going back to America, and they want to take you as well."
I almost choke on my fries that were stuffed in my mouth. What the heck?
"Are you alright?" I mutter, irritated. "We don't even know them, and you're sending me off to America with them?"
Is this for real?
She drops the cloth on the counter, and sits opposite to me, pulling back a chair. "They're not just someone. Don't you remember them?"
I shake my head no. "Was I supposed to remember them? You know I am very forgetful."
Her lips form a thin line. Oops, she is disappointed. "You seriously don't remember them? Dear God! you better start eating some almonds. She is your father's adopted sister. You met them last time on Aqil's wedding, and both you and Adian would play together when you both were younger."
"Play together?" I almost laugh. "Mom, I don't think this Adian boy would ever play with anything except for hearts that belong to girls."
I do remember her. Sort of, now that she has pointed out. But, I still cant go back to the times me and my enemy actually used to play together like best friends. That way too delusional.
"Aaleyah," she warns, "He was never like this before. That boy has been through a lot."
Haven't we all, I almost say, but keep my mouth shut.
"Mom, I didn't even remember them a few seconds ago, and now you expect me to spend my precious moments with them? I don't see that happening."
"Well, you were gonna marry her son anyway."
"I never agreed to it."
"You never denied either."
God, it was impossible to win an argument with Mom.
"And besides," she eyes me curiously. "Hadn't it always been your dream to visit America?"
I sigh. "That was when I used to obsess over their TV shows and movies. Meaning, I was like thirteen then. Ich bin achtsen now." Oh, I forgot how much my german sucks.
I hoist myself up from the chair, now that my food is in my belly.
"He is coming to pick you up tonight."
My feet still. I meet Mom's eyes. "Who?" Oh God, why am I not ready to hear the answer?
"Adian."
That's why.
Damn it.
"Mom! Why would you do that?" I whine, slapping my hands on the table in the most rude way possible. I'd apologize to her once I am cooled down. "He is a jerk!"
Mom's eyes widen. "Language? And why do I get the impression you've both been in an incident which has clearly increased your hatred for him?"
"Increased?"
She nods. "Yeah, you both were basically never nice to each other since. . ." She sucks in a sharp breath. "Since many years."
I raise my brows. "Well, that's concerning."
She ignores the sarcasm. "Your Dad loves his sister. He would be unhappy to hear you denied everything. Go out with Adian, ask him about stuff, his brother whom you'll be marrying—"
"Might be marrying," I correct her.
"—considering they both look the same, almost."
"Seriously? I thought looks didn't matter? Anyway, I've gotta call this Sherry guy who has to ask me some stuff about literature. If you come in my room, and see his name popping up on my mobile screen, please don't eat me up."
I plant a kiss on her head, and pull back to give her a small smile.
"Be nice with him," she warns, gently tugging on my scarf. I shrug my shoulders and run away before she can give me any more instructions.
Once in my room, I can't stop thinking about Adian, and how today would go by. It could either be a total disaster, or perhaps we could agree on some mutual things. A very low chance of the second option, but hey, at least I'll give it a try.
Flopping down on my bed, I check the time from the clock resting on my nightstand.
Seriously? It is 5 pm already? And at what time is this Adian coming anyway?
Bang! "Aaaleeeyyaaaahhhh!" Bang! Bang!
I let out a startled scream, running towards the door with my heart up in my throat. Cold fear grips my knees, almost making me fall, but I don't, surprisingly.
"What happened!" I gasp, yanking on the door. Shahdab is panting, his hands placed on his knees while he bends over and tries to get some oxygen. "Oh God, are you alright?"
Straightening up, he is almost my height already. Frowning, he says, "Me? Yeah, perfff. But you? Pffttt nahhh."
I slap his arm. "You just gave me a heart attack! How many times do I have to tell you to not scare me like that?" He laughs, batting my hand away.
"He is here."
"Who?"
Shahdab rolls his eyes. I hate when he rolls his eyes. It is so annoying. "Adian, duh."
Okayyy. "Okayyy?" I draw the word out. "I literally just got home like some minutes ago. Tell him to come after an hour or something, if he really wishes to stay alive."
"Can't. Dad said you'd say that. BTW, sistah, he ain't our driver. Have you even heard his accent? He definitely has more class than you."
Damn. "What is up with you weird way of talking? He ain't our driver?"
"Yep," he says, popping the p. "He ain't our driver."
And then he jogs away.
Ugh.
- Writer
