When Amani checked her phone for the third time that day, she saw that her messages had gone through after hours of delivering on the turtle-paced connections her uncle had. But there was still no response from the boy she hadn't spoken to since her father chased him out of the house and shipped her back home.
"He's ignoring you?" Reema asked, hitting her with the painful reality that Amani refused to acknowledge. Delusion was a lovestruck girl's best friend.
She shook her head. "Hardly. He's probably busy."
Reema sucked her teeth at the response. "Yes because boys that young are too busy to type out a few words on the phone they have on them all the time, aren't they?" She narrowed her eyes at Amani, attempting to burn the understanding straight into her brain.
But the girl remained in denial. "You could say that. He could have gotten a job since I left to distract himself from missing me."
"Amani, here's one thing I learned being engaged. One, you should always choose the person who likes you over the one you like and, two, if a guy wants to talk to you, he will."
"Not if they're busy."
Reema's hand was gentle on Amani's shoulder. It was obvious that she pitied her younger cousin. "If he has time to use the bathroom, fix his shirt, buy a drink, or do so much as think to himself, then he has time to text you, my love. Don't settle. Much less for a man, they're not worth it."
Amani didn't respond. Instead, she kept the other excuses she could have offered to herself because even she knew Reema would find a way to dismiss them. "I don't know," she muttered to herself, washing her hands with the pink bar of soap to remove the smell of the grape leaves she'd helped separate.
Reema noticed her silence. "Look, obviously I want the best guy for you, Amani, because you don't deserve anybody else. I just don't think this specific guy is the best one. In fact, I don't even think he's in the top half of the moderately good men." Amani glared at her. "You can do much better. Trust me."
"Maybe," she mumbled, glancing at the clock ticking above the sink. "I should head back before Auntie calls. After that run-in with the soldiers, she gets even more worried if I take a while."
"Okay, my love. Call me when you get home."
Amani collected her bag, shoving the journals and book she'd borrowed from the library earlier and hurrying out the front door. The streets were empty, filled only with voices of praying men pouring through the microphones. She glanced down at the dying plant near the wall of her grandmother's old home. Her uncle lived there now but his work always dragged him out of town and left it empty.
"What if he's praying?" A girl shouted in the distance.
Amani lifted her gaze to catch Yasmeen racing past her, speeding toward the masjid. "It doesn't matter right now!" She spun to watch the girl sprint the way she'd just come.
She huffed and turned back around, too frustrated with the conversation she'd just had with Reema to care. If he wanted to speak to her, he would have, but he spoke to her when she was there. They were together for eight months. Why wouldn't he want her now?
It's not that hard to type a single text back, whether it was a greeting or a break-up. Guys were so stupid. She kicked a rock.
"Stand up!" A bold voice ordered loudly.
Amani's head shot up to see an occupation soldier standing a few houses ahead of her, nudging a young boy with the barrel of his rifle. The child pushed it away. "I don't listen to you," he continued playing with his marbles.
"Stand up, boy!" The soldier repeated, pushing him with his knee this time. But the boy remained on the floor and continued organizing his marbles together near the edge of his feet. His nonchalance enraged the armed man and, with one aggressive kick, the boy fell onto his side and his marbles scattered across the street. "Get up!"
"Hey!" Amani shouted. The soldier finally noticed her when she rushed over to help the boy off the ground. "What's wrong with you?"
The soldier snarled at her like an animal. "He doesn't listen."
She rose to stand in front of the boy who covered his face, trying his best to keep his tears silent. "He is a child and you're a grown man pointing a gun at him when he was only playing in the street."
"He should learn respect," the man spat.
"You should grow up."
He held his weapon more tightly against his chest, flashing it in her vision in a threatening warning. But Amani was angry enough to spit in his face so she held his gaze. "You've forgotten your place, girl," he sneered. Through the foggy protective shield that fell over his eyes, Amani could still see the violence hiding behind his armor.
"Why? Did you want to steal that, too?"
"Step aside!" He shouted.
Amani glared at him, lifted her bag back onto her shoulder, and crossed her arms. She wasn't going to move and, when he saw her straighten in front of the boy, the soldier realized as much. He took another step forward but she remained in her place and held his gaze. So, he shoved his rifle into her chest.
Amani tripped over the marbles behind her and fell back with a frustrated grunt. The soldier smirked down at her. He spoke with his rifle. "I told you-."
But a hand seized the barrel and his gloating came to an abrupt stop when Bread Boy stepped in front of her. Amani knew his black thobe anywhere. The soldier yanked the weapon from his grip. "Pointing a gun at an unarmed girl and child," he spoke quietly. "That's a coward's move, isn't it?"
"Move aside."
"You're alone," Bread Boy pointed out. "You have only the gun in your hands for protection and, without that, you have nothing."
Amani climbed back up onto her feet and stepped beside Bread Boy as the soldier snorted. "It's you," he sneered. "I remember you."
Through his dusty shield, the soldier turned to Amani. "Is this your new friend?" Bread Boy's eyes were locked onto the man when she turned to him. "You have a pretty face so you're bold, but you'll have the same ending if you're not careful." He lifted his finger and pointed between their heads at the graveyard past them.
"I'm not afraid of you," she spat.
"You should be."
Bread Boy's response was quick. "She has no reason to be. You are the one who shouldn't push his luck in a situation like this. I suggest you turn back and leave the way you came before you get yourself in real trouble."
The soldier looked between them with a cocky grin then focused his attention on Bread Boy. "I will leave, but don't think you're off the hook. We're coming for you and the rest of your family." Then he turned to meet Amani's frown. "And her."
"Mommy, I'm shaking," she deadpanned.
He bared his teeth like an animal at her remarks and lifted his hand toward her jaw. Amani raised her own to catch his but it had already come to a stop when Bread Boy caught it, keeping the soldier's touch off her. "Are you trying to be smart with me?"
"For you, I don't have to try."
The soldier tore his hand from Bread Boy's. Steam could be felt pouring from his nostrils as he watched her. "You," he pointed at her as if Amani wouldn't have known who he was talking to if he didn't call her out. "Watch your back."
She raised her eyebrows at him in mockery but didn't say anything after that. He glared at her for a moment longer before spinning around and stomping away. Amani watched him for a moment before turning to the little boy. Bread Boy kept his eyes on the soldier until he disappeared.
"Are you alright?" She asked the little boy.
He nodded, wiping the dirt-stained tears from his cheek.
"Are you OK?" Bread Boy turned too.
But the boy didn't answer him and continued watching Amani expectantly. She nudged him to respond but, when she glanced toward the older boy, realized it was her that he was speaking to. "Me?" She asked, thrown off by the attention he was giving her.
He nodded, his eyes on the ground between her legs. "You're bleeding." Amani glanced at her feet and, seeing the red liquid trailing from the back of her ankle, realized she was bleeding.
"Oh, no, I probably just scratched it when he pushed me." She waved her hands to dismiss both boys' attention.
"Do you need to go to the hospital?"
Her jaw fell open. "What- no. It's not that serious. I'll just buy some bandages from the pharmacy and clean it at home."
"Then let me buy you some."
"What?" But Bread Boy who never met her gaze was already moving toward the distant pharmacy and the little boy followed him. She stepped on her leg and, when it burned with a jolt of electricity, decided to rest her weight on the other as she limped after the two. They were already in the pharmacy when she caught up. "Really, you don't need to-."
He wasn't listening. "...clean and wrap it."
The girl behind the counter nodded. "I can do that. You can take this seat and I'll be right back with the disinfectant." Amani complied, moving past the little boy to take the seat beside Bread Boy, who stood at the counter to wait.
She pulled her foot down to peek at the scratch above her Achilles tendon and found a deeper cut a few inches above. The dark red blood dried on its way down her leg but glistened where her skin was split. Amani stifled the natural cringe that passed through her body at the sight of the wound she'd failed to notice until Bread Boy pointed it out.
"Thank you," his voice joined the thought of him. Amani looked up to see him looking at the ground between them as the girl ducked onto the floor, spraying disinfectant on her cut. "For protecting my brother when he was alone. I appreciate it."
Amani smiled when she glanced down at the child holding his older brother's hands. He must be the other one of the two younger siblings because he looked older than the school boy she would have recognized as Bread Boy's brother. "It's okay," she grinned up at the boy, her tone teasing. "Besides, if I'd known he was your brother, I wouldn't have protected him."
But Bread Boy's response wasn't the one she received. It was the little boy who spoke up. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"
She met his judgmental gaze. "Clearly."
"Jokes are supposed to be funny."
Amani gasped. "It was funny."
"Nobody laughed."
"You've got quite the mouth, don't you, little boy?" Her eyes widened because she'd assumed Bread Boy's younger brother would be equally as peaceful and respectful as his brother. The stark contrast drew a baffled laugh from her.
His lips curled at her question. "Duh, we all have mouths. That's how we were created, didn't you know?"
She lifted the lollipop she'd been holding in her hand to gift him. "And to think, I was going to give you this candy I had because you lost all your marbles in the street," she challenged.
"Why would I want a lollipop? I'm not a baby."
"Lollipops aren't for babies!" Amani exclaimed quickly.
"Do you like them?" He asked.
Amani nodded. "I do-."
"Then you're a baby!"
She gasped. "Am not!"
He stuck his tongue out at her and, were it not for the lady carefully bandaging her foot, Amani would have grabbed him by the jacket on his back. "Hey, come here," she reached for him. "Come here, you little-!" But the boy ducked away from her hand and stuck out his tongue again.
Amani rolled her tongue over her teeth. "You see what you're brother's...," she turned up to Bread Boy who stood between them so he'd scold his brother. He lowered his head in front of her and his hair could've shielded his expression if Amani wasn't sitting on the low bench in front of him. For that, she was thankful because the way he pressed his lips together to stifle the smile threatening to reveal itself on his features was almost worth the bandage around her leg.
She scoffed, laughing at the two of them. "Wow, this is the thanks I get from you."
Bread Boy cleared his throat. "Amjad," he turned to his brother. "Did you say thank you?"
Amani stuck her tongue out at him.
"Why should I?"
"Yalla, say thank you."
"No! She's an ugly baby!" He shouted and sprinted out of the pharmacy. Amani, Bread Boy, and the pharmacist who finally rose from the floor both stood in shock at the insult.
Bread Boy called after him. "Amjad!"
Amani laughed. "An ugly baby? Me?"
"I apologize. I'll bring him back-."
"No," she waved him off. "I don't actually want him to say it. Accepting gratitude takes away from the nice feeling of it all, you know? Besides, I helped him and you helped me so you can say we're even. No need for anything extra."
When she looked up at the silent boy, he was looking out the front door of the pharmacy with a preoccupied expression.
"I didn't know you two knew each other," the pharmacist finally spoke up, looking between both of them like she'd just discovered the secret of the century.
Bread Boy turned to her slowly but said nothing.
"We don't," Amani clarified. "They just helped me over here since I hurt my leg. Chivalry and that."
She nodded. "Right."
"How much does she owe?" Bread Boy asked.
"Thirty coins for the bandage."
"Oh," Amani reached into her bag for the allowance her uncle had given her earlier that week. "I don't know why I thought it would be more expensive. Here you go...."
But Bread Boy had already placed the folded bill on the counter and left. Amani blinked at the pharmacist, placed her money down, then took his and rushed out after him.
"Hey, wait!" She hopped down the three steps and caught up to him relatively quickly once he'd stopped. "You don't need to pay."
He glanced at the bill she extended toward him. "I said I would."
"Yes, but you don't need to. Here."
Bread Boy's expression remained clear and composed as he stepped away from the hand she tried to extend further in his direction. "You were hurt protecting my brother. It's only right that I offer something in return."
Amani shook her head. "You don't owe me anything, though. I did it because I wanted to. I didn't even know he was your brother."
"Anybody in my position would do the same thing."
"Well, I don't want you to do it. Take your money and just let me have done this for the sake of doing it." Amani reached for his hand because, if he wasn't going to take it, then she would make him take it. But Bread Boy moved his arm out of her reach and Amani stumbled forward.
Every step she nearly fell forward, Bread Boy took backward to keep a gap between their bodies. She gasped and her gaze followed the careful breath he released as their movements synchronized, her feet stepping in the same place his had been only a second after. If he was anyone else, maybe he would have caught her against his body and the moment would have made her heart race.
But he pulled his arms behind his back to keep them a safe distance from her frame so that, even if she fell against him, Bread Boy's wouldn't touch her.
Amani caught herself before she crashed into him and would have stepped back quickly had his proximity not shocked her legs into ice beneath her. She lifted her eyes off her feet with a pounding heart. His tensed jaw was the first thing she saw and, with the realization that they were far too close, Amani pulled herself away.
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
His gaze lifted past her at the men beginning to pour out of the buildings now that the prayer had finished. She turned back to Bread Boy, who took another step back from her. "No," he looked over the ground. "I am."
"You...," she began but he'd already turned. Amani narrowed her eyes at Bread Boy's back as he walked away and chewed on her lip to keep her smile from growing at how close they'd gotten. If everything she heard about him was right, that was the closest he'd ever been to a girl and that girl had been her.
Now, she'd claimed a place larger than just the girl who admired him in passing. Her chest swelled with pride.
But, when she noticed the money still in her hand, her mood soured and Amani groaned at her loss. What a difficult man.
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Guys, what do you think? Maybe it's just the hopeless romantic in me but the whole tripping forward and him moving backward scene like I can imagine it PERFECTLY and I'm a little bit obsessed with it. Please tell me you imagined it just as beautifully as I did.😭😭