Chapter 1

54 0 0
                                    

"I'm going to tell Humza," I declare.

"Are you sure about this Lily?" Zara questions.

"It's now or never," I reply.

I am talking about my crush. His actual name is Christopher but his code name is Humza. We have code names for all of our crushes so we can speak about them without anyone knowing who we are talking about. It's a friend's thing. His code name comes from 'Humza Arshad' the internet star who plays diary of a badman. Man, I love his shows. Anyways, Rebecca, Zara, Alison, Serena and I are best friends. Their crushes code names are: Aiden for Rebecca's crush ,Jazzie for Zara's crush, M'n'M for Alisons crush( who is the English teacher Mr Tommy) and Serena doesn't need one as she has a boyfriend. Sadly, the only class we have all together is Spanish. Hence, we spend the entire lesson discussing and debating whether I should tell Humza. The teacher gets annoyed and tells us off multiple times, but we continue to indulge in our conversation till the end of the lesson.

Finally, the lesson ends and we go our separate ways to form time. Alison, Serena and Rebecca are in the same form, whilst Zara and I are in a different form. I have been in the same classes as Zara ever since year 7 and we always sit together.  Zara is African, has a slim frame, just like me, a cute button nose and the chubbiest cheeks that I absolutely love to grab and pinch. As we walk towards the classroom, I spot the uniforms officer coming in our direction. I immediately put Zara into a headlock and quickly run in the opposite direction. This is difficult because of how short I am compared to her. Nevertheless, Zara squirms and struggles to get out of my grasp but I do not let her go until we are safe.

"What the hell Lily! You have GOT to stop doing that!" Zara shouts, whilst struggling to fix her head scarf.

"The uniforms officer was there and I didn't want you to get in trouble!" I reply.

Unfortunately for Zara, the uniforms officer always picks on her for wearing a shiny black headscarf instead of a plain one. I don't know why Zara hasn't changed it yet, she is not much of a rebel and she always follows school rules. Personally, I don't think it's that big of a deal, I mean, it is still black, but just more fashionable because of the sparkles.

We enter the classroom and sit in our seats. We spend our time watching maths documentaries as our form tutor is also our maths teacher. I fidget, moving my bangs from one side to another and staring at my fingers nails. Zara automatically recognises my nervousness, so she tries to lighten up my mood with her dead jokes. She can always make me laugh, one of the qualities I love about her. We laugh so loud that we get in trouble with the teacher. Well, I get in trouble. Zara never gets in trouble because everyone thinks she is this shy innocent girl who never talks and is always well behaved. Please, I know the truth, she is just a bad girl that never gets caught. But I don't mind when I get in trouble for her, I'm used to it. Besides, out of the both of us, I am the loud and crazy one. Before we know it, the cacophonous sound of the school bell symbolising the end of the day, echoes around the school. We leave the classroom and I spot Rebecca's long, thick, black hair in the crowd. I call her over and she meanders her way through the army of students, tugging on her skirt to cover her long skinny legs, and flipping off the boys making fun of her strong Asian accent. When she reaches us, she dramatically pulls off her glasses and looks into the distance.

"It's time, Rebecca states.

We laugh at how much of a drama queen she is. Rebecca is like my sister from another mother. And father. She is half Indian, half Sri-Lankan. The best of both worlds. We bond over our love for music, food and boys. She brings these delicious egg noodles in for lunch which we all love and crave. Rebecca links arms with Zara and we make our way down the stairs, meeting Serena along the way. I can't help but think of the worst case scenarios, but I quickly dismiss them as we approach the exit. We reach the school entrance and I notice Humza's long slim frame. He is strolling along the pavement directly across the school; hands deep into his pocket, head held high, and his short, dark black hair blowing majestically in the wind. I seize the opportunity that he is alone for once. He is always with his squad who we call 'the gay group'(and of course they don't know we call them that) for various reasons.

1. They are all Asian and smart as hell; they are the definition of a typical Asian stereotype. Most people call them 'The Asians' which pretty much sums them up.

2. They only ever hang out with each other.

3. They hardly ever talk to any girls.

When we try to talk them they suddenly go all quiet and act all awkward. And that is when we realised. There is only one explanation for their strange behaviour. They must be gay. And so, that is where the name originated from. It also comes from all the gay things they do together which are too inappropriate to talk about. Humza and Aiden (Rebecca's crush) belong to the gay group but they are not gay. Or at least Humza isn't. I hope.

I breathe heavily, my stomach turning as I edge closer and closer to him. My friends yell his name and he looks around with a cute confused face trying to deduce who is calling him. At last, he turns around and his small brown eyes meet mine. My cheeks flush with shyness as I slowly walk towards him. Thank God I am Indian, otherwise I would be as red as a strawberry right now. My skin tone is on the lighter side though, so you can tell when I am flustered, but only if you look very close. I keep glancing back at my friends who are gesturing me to 'go for it.' My heart beat gets faster and my emotions run wild causing me to burst out laughing uncontrollably. I am always laughing, at everything, and in every situation. I am just a happy person, I can't help it. Soon enough, I am standing right in front of him. His actions mimic mine. Our heads hang so low it is almost like we are going to dive into the ground. His activity is not surprising as he is part of the gay group, so it is normal for them to act shy around girls. I gaze up at him and his hot smile sets me on fire. He has the Duchenne smile; the kind of smile where your eyes shrink and crinkle at the edges. He has deep laugh lines which are prominent and apparent. He rocks a ghost of a moustache above his plump pink lips. His teeth are perfectly straight and pearly white. After about 30 seconds of an awkward silence, I manage to blurt out the words 'I-like...you.' I can't stand to see his reaction and before I know it, my tiny legs are pulling me away from him. I sprint away, leaving him to ponder about what just happened. He stands there, perplexed about the situation. Meanwhile, the clouds drift from their original pale white colour, to dull grey and it starts to drizzle. Typical London weather. He begins to walk away as I am being bombarded with comments from my friends about how stupid I am for running. Then, Serena dashes over to him to try and save the day.

"Hi Christopher," Serena says.

"Hey," Christopher replies shyly. "Is this a dare?" He asks.

"No this is for real, she really likes you."

"Oh...um ok."

"She was too scared to see your reaction so she ran away but she likes you a lot. So...what do you think of her? "

"She is a cool girl I guess...but I have never really spoken to her. I want to get to know her before I make up mind, you know? "

  "Yea. I totally get it. Well then can she have your number so you guys can at least be friends?"

"Ok. It's 077...."

By this time we had all realised that Serena was talking to Christopher. I pace around in circles in the now pouring rain, wondering what is going on.  It is like watching a silent movie as I can't hear anything from the other side of the road. Serena crosses the road to where we are standing. Her perfect winged eyeliner now ruined and trickling down her face because of the rain. Her usually full, tight curly hair, now damp, shrinking, and sticking to her face. Despite this, she still looks really pretty. It is impossible for Serena to not look good, she is curvaceous, tall and a beautifully crafted mixture of Jamaican and Indian. All the boys want her and all the girls want to be her. She approaches us with a huge smile plastered across her face. I relax knowing that the news is good. She hands me the paper with his number and I immediately bounce up with joy and attack her with a hug. I scream and jump as the rain pours harder. Passersby look at me strangely, but pupils from school look at me, amused, as they are used to my crazy, hyperactive behaviour.  I splash around in puddles, dance in the rain and praise the glorious weather. (I love the rain in case you didn't know). My face shines with happiness and I smile all the way home. It is the greatest end to the school term.

What the heart wantsWhere stories live. Discover now