Beauty and the Bully.

Chapter Ten.

Ayla.

The rest of the week flew by and today was Saturday. I hadn't seen Ryder that often because we have different lessons but I saw him once, walking with his friends. I'm sure I had English with him but either he wasn't in or he ditched class and went somewhere.

Did I miss him? I asked myself that question often in the past week.

I was ashamed to say I did, I missed him, but just a tiny bit.

It was almost two in the afternoon and I was downstairs watching a telenovela with mum. We loved watching this specific one, the plot was riveting and me and mum had a huge crush on the lead actor. I finish the remains of my lunch and washed my plate as I noticed I had an hour to get ready and go to Ryder's. Today was a good day, chilly breeze but the sun was making an appearance so I was happy. I threw on a light sundress with some nude fur lined tights to keep me warm. It was still winter but I just wanted to make an effort. I wore a little makeup and made my lips pop with a barely there pink lip oil. My hair was already curly from when I gave myself a blowout last night so I got a claw clip and clasped half of my hair up, leaving my front strands to frame my face. I take a tote and place my laptop and folder in, along with the rest of my things. I go downstairs and put my heeled boots on, glancing at the time I realise I'm going to be late.

"Mum I going to go study with Ryder."

"Anti Hayati, why didn't you tell me?" She said and I sighed. "Mum remember I told you on Thursday." She forms an 'o' shape with her mouth. She has pregnancy brain so I don't blame her. "Okay stay safe and don't do any bad things. Bhibak kamira." (I love you, my moon.) Nodding I gave her a kiss and left the house. Mum had been speaking more Darija lately, she says she wants the baby to hear but I'm pretty sure he or she doesn't have ears yet. Dad supports her so he speaks Spanish around the house. I don't mind as I've known Darija and Spanish since I was practically in diapers. I'm also fluent in French as it's Morocco's second language. The perks of having parents that come from different places means you're multilingual.

Walking to the train station I see the cafe that I had been going to quite a lot recently. Mum has been craving their warm bakes and drinks. Dad ended up visiting and found out the owner was his old friend. Now we're kept a separate batch of pastries for mum every time and dad picks them up on his way back from work.

I enter the shop and I'm met with warmth and the smell of cinnamon.

"Ayla! Como es stas. " ( Ayla! How are you?)I hear and smile knowing its Sebastian the owner.

"Muy bien, como estas tio seb? Es bueno verte de nuevo!" (Very good, how are you uncle Seb? Its so nice to see you!) I say and he comes from the counter to me. Seb kisses my cheek and smiles. "How is your Mama?" He asks and sits me down. "Mama is good, how is Amora and Alora." They were his twin granddaughters who he and I couldn't get enough of. They were the chubbiest angels with big fat gorgeous brown eyes.

"Ah my princesses are well. My darling how come your here, does your mum need some sweet treats?" He asks and I shake my head.

"Im going to a friends house and I thought I should get them the most finest pastries in London." I said and he laughed. "Ria, two hazel croissants and caramel tarts."

"Any drinks?"

"Just a caramel latte please." I answer. He orders again and continues to chat with me.

After receiving the goods I give him the correct amount of money but he refuses to let me pay. "Please Seb." I say and he shakes his head, I slump my shoulders. "At least let me put it in the donation box." He nods and I go to put the money in the box and say thank you to him.