The Shades of Spring

Weather update: The forecast is unclear...

Musa was absently shooting hoops in the public basketball court.
Why, Hafsa? Why don't you give an answer?

His shot missed and he chased after the ball.
Don't do this. Please.

He shot again, this time the ball ran along the hoop before it fell through. He picked it up again and continued his mindless shooting.

He had done his best to keep his wits together after sending the proposal. Like Sidra told, he prayed Isthikhara and believed he got a green signal. But now, Hafsa was silent.

He didn't know why he liked her so much. He'd known her for over five years, being from the same Model UN as Hafsa and Kevin. The trio - not a trio then - had gone on to work in the library at different points along the timeline. For years hence they had worked side by side without exchanging too many words. Then they'd warmed up to each other with the occasional disagreement but overall camaraderie.

But some time in the past year, it had changed. He had developed feelings for her seemingly out of the blue which even the cold war had failed to nip. He liked her headstrong attitude and blunt honesty. Hafsa was not as well-rounded as Sidra, but she had her own virtues; her caring nature and deep empathy among the top that attracted him.
But his feelings were worthless if they weren't reciprocated. Kevin snatched the ball from him and shot a graceful hoop from near the fence.
"Kobe!!" he shouted.

They struck up a conversation after that.

"So, what say your love?"
"Hafsa or my love for Hafsa?"
"I don't know. Surprise me."
"The first one is silent. The second one is screaming in my head."
"Sucks to be there. She really isn't answering?"
"If she did, I'd either be over the moon or a little more moody."
"Right."

They dribbled and blocked and shot hoops for a long time before they took a break. The snowing had stopped, but ice coated the edge of the concrete block making running a little dangerous. Kevin eyed Musa. His hands refused to stay still, dribbling the ball between his knees as he frowned at the ground.

"She'll come around," Kevin assured Musa, putting a hand on his knee. Musa stopped playing with the ball.
"Or so we hope."

Musa's dark eyes looked even darker in his current mood. His closely trimmed beard hugged his jaw that was clenched in a million emotions and his usually pale skin was tinged pink for the cold; but he wore no jacket or hoodie. Kevin genuinely felt sorry for him. Musa was his best friend, still even Kevin had missed the love taking root in the former's heart. But now, it was a huge tree that fairly spread over his every thought.

They sat in contemplative silence until Kevin's stray gaze landed on Ayaan walking on the other side of the fence. He did a double take to make sure it was him and then called out.
The third boy waved and jogged over with a smile; completely unable to bother with mundane tasks as pushing open grilled doors, he happily hopped the high fence.

"Pray tell me," Musa grinned, "why didn't you use that door?"

"Because doors are for people without imagination," he grinned back sitting next to Kevin. "That's from Skulduggery Pleasant if neither of you got it," he added.

"The one with a walking skeleton and all that magic wars?" Ayaan affirmed Kevin's assumption with a nod. "Ah, Sidra's other boyfriend," Kevin snorted.

"Other boyfriend?" Ayaan quirked an eyebrow.

"She falls a little in love with every sassy hero she comes across. If I'm not mistaken, she's currently in love with one Hansard May from Retrieval," Musa replied.

"Well, that's good to know."

"What were you doing out there?" Kevin questioned Ayaan.

"Ran out of bread this morning. Was going to buy some."

"I see."

"Yeah. And what are you two doing here without warm clothes?"

"I am in warm clothes. Musa isn't," Kevin pointed out.

"Good point. That brings me back to question of why."

"We come here when we're bored. The snow keeps others away on days like this and we have the court to ourselves. We normally bring friends, but everyone is lazy because of the cold."

"Good," Ayaan narrowed his eyes at Musa sitting sullenly, doing his best to appear casual. "Is everything okay?"

Musa was a little startled, so Ayaan quickly amended, "You don't owe me an answer, I would just like to help if you wanted."

"No...that's okay. I am in a sullen mood. The weather's getting to me."

Though he would very much love to ease the burden of his good friend, Ayaan did not push him to break the lie because he understood that every person was entitled to their own secrets. He offered them both sticks of gum which Kevin accepted and Musa politely declined. They chewed quietly on, enjoying the companionable silence and the crispness of the air around them.

"Ayaan, I have a very important question for you," Kevin started and continued with Ayaan's approval. "Let's say you fall in love with a girl you didn't see yourself falling in love with, and she rejects you despite your best efforts, what is the wisest course of action?"

"Kevin, I have to tell you, you suck at keeping secrets," Ayaan groaned, "learn subtlety at the very least. Musa, I can get going if you want."

"Well, now that it's out in the open, go on and humour us," Musa responded calmly; that, or he was storing the wrath for Kevin and Kevin alone.

Ayaan picked his words carefully because he didn't want to take too much liberty. "If you truly think you love her and you believe she's the one, there's one important matter of Isthikhara for us," he was about to explain the term to Kevin who quickly said he already knew it. Then Ayaan continued. "If your Isthikhara leaves you a good feeling, and she's still left you hanging, fortify your Salah and act according to the situation. There is no standard reaction. You don't give her all the space on earth or crowd into her personal space. You live in the moment, watch and improvise giving a fair attention to the future. Because love, for all the cliché and paradigms of society, takes variable arcs in each person's life."

The audience of two ruminated his words, slowly letting it sink in. Ayaan was right. There was no procedure set in stone. You had to watch and improvise. Musa had to watch and improvise.

"That was a really good pep talk," they agreed unanimously at last and Ayaan gave them a de facto shrug.

Musa cheered up soon after and the lost smile made its way back to his face. He couldn't be droll around Ayaan. There was just something about him that infected everyone with a desire to live and not just exist.

"Kevin and you against me," he ran to the middle of the court.
"No. You and me against Ayaan. I won't stand a chance against you."
"Well, you guys just asked for it," Ayaan laughed bunching up his jacket and tossing it away. They took up position - Musa and Kevin facing the basket, Ayaan blocking their path.

Musa and Kevin conversed with their eyes and suddenly split up around Ayaan and made their run for the basket. Musa passed the ball to Kevin underhand, and Kevin scored the first basket. Musa highfived him for their first score which he didn't realise would be their last too.

"Game on, boys," Ayaan smirked.
And he let them eat his dust.

Musa learned a new fact about Ayaan that day. Under his laid back attitude, Ayaan was a dangerously skilled player. Not one of them scored against him. He'd let them reach within feet of the basket then he'd have the ball as if by magic and shoot his shot straight over their heads, a full court length away from his own hoop. And he never, never missed. If any of them tried it with him, he'd snatch the ball out of the air and finish them before they started.

With all that victory, he didn't crow or make snarky comments. He'd make a joke or two about himself then modestly put down the scores to hard work instead of any special talent. Musa had a feeling this was only a layer or two of his personality that Ayaan showed them. However, his humility greatly humbled Musa.

A couple shots later, Musa offered to drive Ayaan to the store and back to his hostel. While waiting for him in the carpark, he caught a glimpse of Hafsa and her mother who incidentally were walking out another door. Musa's heart did a double somersault at the sight of the purple hijabi who owned his heart and toyed with it at the same time. What good if I can see you, not own?