Salem's copying Ali's notes when Khalifa gets to school. They're lingering in the halls before class starts in five minutes, anytime now and one of the teachers (probably the one who's standing closest to them, sending them warning, threatening glances) will usher them away.
Just now, Salem's been describing his week to Ali while scribbling onto his notebook. He drones on about the beach, the girls who "tempt him". Ali rolls his eyes, expecting Khalifa to show up any second, so he can have someone to share looks with. He genuinely thinks Salem's a good guy, but sometimes the words that come out of his mouth are unbelievable. Anytime now, he thinks, Khalifa has to come walking their way. But every second passes, and Khalifa still doesn't show up. Ali's terrified things have changed since he decided to corner Khalifa into relenting his "secret desires" or whatever the fuck you call what happened after soccer practice yesterday. He wants to bury his head in his arms and forget all about it.
But Khalifa shows up, finally, and Salem's distracted, so he doesn't say anything more than a quick, "hi".
"I didn't study for the quiz," Khalifa says, leaning against the wall beside them.
"You didn't study?"
"I was busy," Khalifa shrugs. "And after soccer practice, I was floored. Couldn't be bothered for Physics."
Ali turns his attention to Salem. "Are you done?"
"Pig, I'm almost there. Are you on your period or something?"
Ali flips him off.
Salem finishes up and shuts Ali's notebook. "Thanks."
Khalifa watches him retreat, then turns to Ali, who's distracting himself by organizing his backpack.
"Will you help me out or not?"
Ali sizes him up. "Only because I owe it to you."
"Works for me."
They have to rush to class, and still reach there a few minutes late. Ali chooses to sit in the back of the classroom, and Khalifa follows. This time Ali knows what he's doing. He picks up his calculator and solves the first question and double checks his answer before he taps Khalifa's thigh twice. One tap, three taps, two taps again.
He doesn't receive a reaction, and Ali's pissed that having Khalifa's hand on his thigh got to him more than this is getting to Khalifa. What'd he aspect? A knee jerk, a glance, or even for him to move his leg and maybe fail the quiz?
On the last question, Ali lets his hand rest on Khalifa's thigh for a few seconds longer. He's determined to break Khalifa's walls down. Have him react for once. He wants to know what he looks like when his cheeks are red, when he wiggles in his seat, or stays very, very still. Would he?
All five of Ali's fingers wrap around Kahlifa's thigh. Ali feels the moment the muscles beneath his hand tense. He smiles to himself, until Khalifa's hand rest on top of his, fingers squeezing them in place, and something rushes through his bones like wildfire. Ali looks up, but Khalifa's focused on his paper.
He thinks his teacher's staring at them, he doesn't care, looks down at his own paper.
Ali taps three times before yanking his hand away.
He doesn't notice the way Khalifa smiles to himself.
-
Alia walks into Ali's room later that night. His document's empty and there's pages and pages of notes strewn across his bed. The AC's on full blast, and some papers flutter across his bed. Still, he feels like the room's still warm as the pressure to get a perfect essay out squeezes the oxygen out of his room.
Alia leans against the doorway. "What are you doing?"
"College applications."
"Where are you applying? Harvard?"
"Funny."
"I cleared things up with baba."
Ali looks up, massaging a knot that's formed at the base of his neck. "You have?"
"Yeah," she folds her arm over her chest.
"How?"
"Your friend Khalifa helped. I deleted all my social media accounts. I needed a break, anyway. Gotta get those A's, you know?"
"Khalifa?"
Alia raises her eyebrows. She's in her abaya still, having just arrived home from the mall with her friends. Her lipstick's almost all smudged out, and there's black eyeliner still dark around her eyes. "He's a good guy."
"Yeah," Ali glanced back at his laptop screen. "He is."
"So, can I call dibs?"
Ali's head snaps up. "What."
She laughs. "You should see the look on your face. Don't worry, he's all yours."
"Please stop saying that."
She grins. "In other news, Marwa says she's over you."
His jaw drops. "What the fuck?"
"I thought you'd be glad."
"I am," he splutters, "but, what the fuck?"
"She says you're too childish for her taste."
He snorts.
"She says," Alia goes on, "that she needs a man. Someone who knows that he wants."
"That hurts."
"I mean, it's a good thing she has standards."
He gives her a look. "Get out of my room, traitor."
"I'm just saying," she says, but follows that with a "goodnight" and shuts the door behind her.
Ali searches for his phone underneath all his notes and texts Khalifa.
U talk to alia?
Sometimes
Wtf man
Will u chill. I like someone else, if u haven't noticed already. Anyway, she's not gonna be online anymore, right?
Yeah she just said
His phone rings.
"So, you're jealous I'm talking to your sister now?"
"I'm not jealous."
"I never thought you'd be the jealous type, Ali."
Ali hangs up on him, and tosses his phone away so it falls on the floor with a loud smack.
"Fuck."
HI.
Just a couple more chapters left and then bye-bye
lol soz i should go study or something
thanks for reading!! xx
