SOPHIA
It’s just another night where I sit propped up against the bedpost, taking off my nail polish and trying to ignore Abdallah. Or, as in this case, the way he’s looking at me.
Seriously, do men think we don’t have eyes? I lift my gaze from my toes and meet Abdallah’s stare head-on.
It’s messed-up on a thousand different levels but the way his eyes slither into mine, I swear I can feel sparks lighting up in the air. As if electricity buzzes and something tangible snaps into place between him and me.
And at that moment, I’m more scared than I have been in a very long time. I have noticed how chill I am in front of him. As if he can’t hurt or betray me. To someone like me, that sounds an awful lot like trust. I hate that I can’t even decide who to trust.
If it were up to me, I’d tr
