Bitter Sweet | (Published) ✔

{1} Mr. Rude

Tasneem Uddin

"Please come to my wedding, Tasneem," begged my close friend, Amira, over the phone.

Amira was getting married in a few weeks. We had been friends since high school. Amira was of Bengali descent as well, which is why our parents were so close. I used to be in the same neighborhood as Amira until she moved away for college. At times, I would begin to miss our friendship. I didn't move away.

I would hear all these stories of college outside of this small town, yet I could never bring myself to leave the very people who raised me.

I leaned against the counter. "Relax, I will," I said, noticing that the café was empty as usual.

"Great! I need you to be my make up artist."

"Fine," I sighed. The phone pressed to my ear with my shoulder as I ran through the inventory for supplies. "Anything for my friend."

"Awesome!" she exclaimed, excitedly. I heard something crash in the background and some yelling. "I gotta go. Assalamualaikum!"

Then she hung up.

I placed my cellphone in the pocket of my jeans. It was extremely hot outside, given the fact that it was the beginning of summer. The sun shined through our glasses. My parents were off to stock up on supplies, so I was watching over the café. Business was slow today. Perhaps no one wanted to step outside in this heat. I stared at the clock after making my inventory list. It was only the middle of the day, past Dhuhr (midday) prayer.

Ring Ring.

My head jerked up to see a group of teenage girls. They were dressed in white shorts and tank tops, the complete opposite of my jean covered legs and pink button-up. My apron for the café was tied around my hip and fell close to my knees. I mustered up a smile as I greeted them.

"Welcome to Sweet Paradise Café! How may I assist you today?" I smiled as they walked towards the counter.

The blonde girl in the group scanned the diner. "Sure is empty here," she observed.

"It's a pretty hot day," I replied, keeping the smile still intact.

"We'll take three lattes," she ordered as she pulled out her wallet.

She paid me about twelve dollars, and turned back to her friends as I readied her change.

"Can you believe how hot he is? He's a Muslim too!" the brunette with curly hair whispered to the blonde.

"Here's your change," I said.

I turned around to prepare their drinks. The girls were giggling and gossiping about Allah knows who. There weren't that many rich guys around here unless you went downtown where the cities were. Usually, I only went there to go to the movies with Amira. The thought of her saddened me.

She was getting married soon, and probably won't be moving back here. My heart hurt thinking about my best friend being separated from me for even longer. When we were kids we'd always make jokes about never getting married, yet there she was with a ring on her finger.

I was a quiet person, who kept to myself. Amira had been there for me when I couldn't bring myself to talk to others. She was the one who pushed me into the real world. We shared so many smiles, laughter, sadness, and fears throughout the years. She stuck by me through everything, even now she still managed to make time to call me.

Distance really does strengthen love, I thought to myself.

The wave of nostalgia filled me as I remembered how we used to hang out in this café before college. I missed my best friend. I wasn't ready for her to get married, but the man she was marrying made her happy. If he didn't I would have to kill him.