alizeh :: mgc

३ - 'i don't blush'

3 - 'i don't blush'

Alizeh had to meet Aisha beside the Technology wing of the school. She stood by a large trophy case, her shoulder pressed up to its wooden frame and a yawn muffled into her upper arm as she scrolled through her phone. She promised she would wait there -- to both Aisha and Michael. Alizeh was blessed with a teacher who believed the school bell meant instant dismissal, however Aisha and Michael probably did not. So, Alizeh waited, looking through Troye Sivan's Instagram for nearly fifteen minutes, until Michael appeared down the corridor from his lesson.

"Took you long enough," she said, crossing her right leg over her left. "Still need to wait for Aisha, though."

"I saw her coming down from T12, she won't be long." He took his own phone out of his pocket, then opened up his text messages, milling through the unread blue bubbles. Less and less students passed them, seeing as everyone left a good while ago. Michael nodded towards some of the upper years, then glanced at Alizeh. "Are we still on for today after school?"

She didn't lift her head. "Your persistence impressed me. I couldn't refuse."

"Was it because I promised to take you to Soho?"

"And that you promised to take me to Soho." This time, she looked up, and they shared a hint of a smile. She broke their gaze, her face returning to plain and bored and kept her eyes trained on her phone screen, as if it never happened. "Although, I wouldn't be surprised if you took me to some brothel instead."

"I can assure you that will not happen." He grinned. "Unless you want it to." He leaned over her, resting his forearm on the wooden panel of the trophy case. Swallowing back a laugh, she locked her phone, putting it into her breast pocket and looking up at him. He raised his eyebrows. "Do you want it to happen?"

Shaking her head, she pointed behind him, to the mouth of the open corridor. "Don't get too close. Your girlfriend's there."

He turned around and saw Aisha, her head bowed to her feet and her head scarf nearly uncovering some of her hair. She never wore it tight, Alizeh noticed, only draped over her head like a shawl. She held a photograph in her henna-dipped hands, facing her stomach so nobody could see the front. Biting her lip, she lifted her gaze, finding the trophy case, and then Michael, and then Alizeh. A shy smile took her, and she approached them, running the tip of her finger over the corners of the photograph.

"H-hi," she said in English, mostly so Michael knew it was for him as well as Alizeh. She dared herself to meet Michael's eyes, which took him by surprise. He regarded her, and when she realised she couldn't say anything else, she slipped back to Hindi with Alizeh, who stood, watching them both stare at each other with the most smug grin she'd ever encountered. "How are you?"

She shrugged, pushing up her glasses and folding her arms. "I'm okay. Listen, I won't be able to walk back to your bus stop today."

"Kyu?" Aisha asked. "Why?"

"I have to study for this Chemistry exam." She rolled her eyes, and Michael glanced at her with an eyebrow raised. "So much effort."

"Oh, I can help if you--"

"No, no, no." Alizeh set her hands on the other girl's shoulders. "It's okay. Tum jao. You go."

"Are you sure, because--"

"Aisha," she said. "It's okay, I mean it."

She bit her lip, then looked down. "Mm... okay." She nearly turned to leave, but stopped herself. "Also, Ali, you dropped this on your way to Lunch." She held out the photograph. "I thought you'd want it."