Chapter 9 : Finding Rina

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 'Come! Quick! This you have to see!'

Wilma pulled at my hand just as I was about to enter the college's Library. It was here that I would seek refuge when the going got tough for me too handle. It was also my hideaway—the Library was not just a place to mug. I found solace in reading the translation of the Holy Qur'an in English there. Yes. Maybe because the Head Librarian was a Muslim woman, there were two copies of the translated Holy Qur'an in the reference section. When I grew tired of the textbooks and notes and writing, the Holy Qur'an became my beacon in college. It thrilled me no end to randomly opened it and then reading the translations, always trying to find a connection between that verse and my life at that point of time. LIFE magazine was my other favourite read. A3 in size, the cover page always would catch my attention. There was once Lucille Balle in the entire splendour of her 'naked' face—freckles and all and of course, those lovely, spectacular green eyes of hers. The article was on red-haired women. I learned that red-haired people usually have green eyes and are always freckled; from the face to the arms to the legs. This particular photographer was so mesmerized by the freckles that he had been photographing red-haired people for the better part of his life.

Thus, I dismally looked at the Library's entrance as Wilma pulled at my hand and practically drag me to follow her. I knew she was fast but she was surprisingly strong as well! I found myself breathless as I practically 'sailed' passed the corridor.

'Wait! Wilma! Don't! I will follow!'

'Be quick or you will miss this!'

'Miss what? Ya Allah ! Wilma!!!'

I was literally gulping for air when we finally reached the canteen.

'There!' Wilma declared triumphantly.

I followed her pointy finger and what I saw made me want to push her into a bin and post her to Timbuktu. A shiny, chili-red Honda sporty-looking car sat haughtily at the car-park. I could have ogled at it forever if not for the most familiar neatly brown-haired guy sitting nonchalantly behind the wheels.

Isaac.

It had just been raining but he was wearing a pair of I must admit, very cool POLICE shades. He took off his spectacles with deliberate slowness, and then squinted to no one and at nowhere in particular. I half-expected him to wave at his swooning fans, with the paparazzi chasing him from behind.

Well, I never!

He turned his head and before I could run, saw the giggling Wilma and the glowering me. He gave us his irritating half-smile that looked like a cross between a smirk and a leer.

'What's up ladies?'

'Wow...could we like go for some wind later?' Wilma purred coyly. Urgh! That shameless friend of mine!

Isaac actually chuckled.

'If you trust me. I just passed last night.'

'And you already have a car?' The adulation in Wilma's eyes was shining like stars.

Isaac shrugged. 'Not mine. My father's.'

'He must trust you a lot, 'insisted Wilma, still trying to be in Isaac's good book.

He smiled softly now. 'There is enough room for two more, I guess.'

'I rather go ride a trishaw!' I blurted.

Isaac was laughing wholeheartedly now. Seriously, this was the first time I saw him laughed that much. His brown eyes turned a warm toffee and there were laugh wrinkles around the corners of his eyes.

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