Don't Remind Me

Prologue

I was bunking class for the seventh time in my life. I guess no one can accuse him of being a good influence. I giggle as he karate kicks open a door saying "University Employees Only". 

"Why do people put up such signs in the first place? and then they leave it unlocked; I mean seriously? It's practically an invitation for thrill seekers like me." Azaan saunters dramatically around the roof of the library block, he looks like a king surveying his dominion. The open space was scattered with abandoned class furniture and surrounded by a short boundary wall about four feet high. 

"D'you know I used to be really good at gymnastics when I was a kid?" I kick off my shoes as I revel in the warmth of the sun-baked roof. He perks up at my revelation. I don't talk about myself much, and he knows what it takes for me to remember details. 

"Woah. Seriously Hayat? Why'd you stop?" He winks, "Gymnastic-y chicks are hot!" 

I bite my lip in tension, looking down at my bare feet, "It got a little overwhelming for me. My coach was really nice and all, but he was still a guy. And during that time, I couldn't bear to be around -uh- males at all; let alone let them touch me in my tight leotards." His jaw is hardening with every word I utter.

It's strange; whenever I unload myself to him, I actually feel better, while he looks depressed and angry.

"You shouldn't have stopped." He finally shrugged, pretending nonchalance for my sake "If it's something you love, you should have stuck to it."

"I still do it." I gave a small grin, "I'm not competitive materiel anymore, like I used to be, but I can do headstands in my sleep." I stand up, and stretch my arms above my head to limber out. My trackpants are not made for any rigorous moves, but I can do a decent salto. I pat my hands against the dusty ground, lack of chalk is hardly a problem. 

I do two backwards headsprings before bowing to an imaginary crowd; Azaan whoops and whistles. I feel breathless with energy. I haven't exhibited to anyone else for the past six years or so. This boy makes me fearless, something I have never imagined myself to be.

I decide to do something incredibly stupid.

Walking over to the four feet high ledge, I effortlessly vault myself over to the boundary wall, ignoring his gasp of fear. We are four floors above the ground, and I can see the surrounding cricket pitch and tennis courts of IBSA. My feet are firm on the thin ledge as I spread my arms wide. 

The wind is urging my hair to escape its jaw clip. I breath in and out ignoring Azaan's yells. 

"...freaking crazy woman! You like breaking every bone in your body? Do it when you're not with me! Don't you know I hate blood?...."

"Will you catch me?" I ask him, my heart thudding at his response. It's a classic trust exercise, and even he knows it. My therapist had constantly urged me to do it, but when it came right down to it, I never had the guts to let go. My survival instincts were too keen, too on edge to fully give up. 

He is silent for a heartbeat, "Only if you're sure Layla." 

I can't see him, but it's okay. 

I can still feel him. 

I close my eyes, and let go.