Bitter Sweet | (Published) ✔

{2} Subtle Stalking

Ibrahim Tarkan

"Why are we here again?" asked Thomas.

I quickly parked the car. "Bashir wanted to come here."

I had decided to come back to the Sweet Paradise Café. The Oreo cookie latte I tried a couple days ago was delicious. Even though the Muslim girl behind the counter was a pain in the ass, she knew how to make good food. I might have also been intrigued by the spitfire that was suppose to have better customer service qualities. Then again I did provoke her.

"Sure he did," said Thomas sarcastically as he opened the car door. "It's totally not for the pretty girl behind the counter."

Bashir slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked ahead of us. He turned to us, walking backwards, "Ibrahim has a thing for Sister Tasneem?"

"Her name is Tasneem?" I asked, curious. Her name rolled off my tongue with ease.

Tasneem wasn't unattractive from what I could tell. I didn't look at her for too long but she was definitely an eye stealer for men. Her golden skin contrasted well with her white hijab. Her eyes were a warm shade of brown. Her cute button nose and small lips seemed to tempt me.

The thing that caught my attention was her aura of innocence. She had no idea who I was. Even when I provoked her, she apologized immediately.

Bashir nodded. "Yeah, she works there with her family." He turned back around and walked in step with me.

"Kid, why you telling him these things?" groaned Thomas. "You realize he's going to go stalker 101 on her now."

I scoffed  "Like you're one to talk."

He glared at me. "Fight me."

"Gladly," I smirked as I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. I caught him off guard.

"Okay! Jesus, man! I surrender!"

I rolled my eyes and let him go. "I barely touched you."

"Fucking dick head," he muttered under his breath.

I heard Bashir snicker.

"Muttering doesn't mean I can't hear you," I replied dryly.

"No really? I thought it made me superior this whole time."

I gave him a blank stare, "Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

Thomas chuckled. His brown hair falling over his forehead at the movement. The sun was beaming on our faces. I squinted at the sign on the clear glass door. Closed.

I frowned. It was only Thursday, not even one pm yet and she closed the store?

"Damn it. I wanted to try her coffee cakes today," said Bashir, disappointed.

Thomas shrugged, "Oh well, better try again another day. Let's go!"

"Wait," I said as Thomas started to walk back to the car. I looked through the glass door. "You idiots, she's in there."

Tasneem was dancing around the café with a broom in her hand. She wore her typical white hijab I saw the other day. The café apron wrapped snugly around her hips. Her denim jeans clung to her thick thighs as she continued to dance to whatever she was listening too. She had ear buds in and was pretending the broom was a microphone. I looked around. It seemed like she was alone.

I knocked.

She simply ignored me.

I knocked harder this time.