The Girl in The Green Scarf

T w e n t y - e i g h t

"I couldn't sleep," I lie.

Hamsa, energized, set me up with numerous books for the past weeks. To my surprise, I managed to read through all of them without ridiculing every single concept.

"I didn't know Islamic books are marketed as a new treatment for insomnia."

I don't dignify his comment with a response, just shrug half-heartedly.

His black ball of fur jumps out of his hold, stretching on my carpet. I fight the urge to extend my leg and kick the thing out of the room.

"What have you been up to Bash?" Alex tosses the book beside me.

I debate telling another lie, but I'm too busy following the movement of the cat, preparing myself for defense, to think of something creative.

"Man I'm not messing around with you. I'll toss your bloody pet out the window if it touches me," I spit past gritted teeth.

"You wouldn't dare. You owe me too much," he says matter-of-factly.

Unfortunately he's right. Without Alex's help I wouldn't have once made it to the Factories province. Theo would have shadowed me, and I wouldn't have been able to meet with Hamsa.

On the thought of Hamsa, I swing my feet to the floor, lurching off the bed. "What time is it?"

My eyes dart to Alex, demanding.

He quirks up one eyebrow, but glances at his hand-watch anyway. "Minutes past nine. Is that supposed to mean something?"

"I'm late!" I shout this from inside the bathroom. I don't even bother to shut the door as I quickly splash water on my face and rush through the morning routine.

"What is so urgent to make you unglue your butt off the bed in this weather? It is monkeys outside," Alex mutters as I peel off my shirt, grappling with the top button with one hand, bending over to rummage a pair of jeans with the other.

"It has been cold for the past month," I say, sneezing.

"Not this cold."

Fighting with my trousers, I hop towards the curtains, tugging them open. Everything from the garden to the main court is covered in a white blanket of snow.

Great. Like I'm not late enough, I'll have to make my way through a mini-storm. Sneezing.

"I'll just have to put on a coat," I mutter.

After pulling on a shirt and jacket, I run my fingers through my hair to tame it and then dash downstairs to the kitchen. Alex follows and of course Black-fur-ball-from-hell makes an appearance too.

I yawn the fridge wide open, surveying the shelves. My hand reaches for a beer can, but end up closing around a container of flavored yoghurt. Snatching a spoon, I jerk out a chair and sit.

Leaning against the doorframe, Alex speaks up, amused. "Since when do you eat anything healthy?"

"Since... oh I don't know, none of your business," I say.

Guy bursts through the backdoor, a bowl full of potatoes in hand. He comes to a halt, his face reddening with anger. His lips form a tight line. It is amusing.

"MONSIEUR ALEX! IS THAT UNE CHAT IN MY KITCHEN?"

Alex chooses to overlook the agitation in Guy's tone. "A kitten. Blue is a kitten." He half-lifts the little animal towards Guy. "A cute one."

"I have a strict no-animals policy in the kitchen!"

"Hell, man," Alex replied, "you can't just throw out Bash like that."