I had left mum for the remainder of the morning and the most part of the afternoon in the apartment to settle, while I made a half-hearted leave to my lectures and tutorial. As I sat in the lecture hall drumming my fingers on the small pull up desk, I mentally hoped that mum was cooking. I've missed having a proper meal being made for me, and in fact I specifically missed mum's cooking, although I would never tell her that. Mum's the type of person that thrives off praise- once she hears it she won't forget and she won't let you for that matter either. That's why I generally keep my thoughts to myself- it's best.
Around me people start to stand and move off and it comes to my attention that I've spent the last five minutes of the lecture calculating the possibility of mum cooking instead of paying attention. Sighing, I slide the desk back between the armrests of the two seats and stand, grabbing my backpack and fitting it between my arms, as I make my way into the crowd on the centre steps leading up to the double doors.
Once I finally manage to make it out and the bodies around me disperse, I'm unforgivingly hit with a brutal gust of air that makes me sharply inhale and tug my jacket tighter around my body. The pavement is wet, covered in thin and damp lifeless leaves. It's Autumn, I remind myself. Only Autumn. I'd honestly rather not think of what winter in Melbourne is going to be like, because coming from Adelaide, I've skipped Autumn and pulled out my winter attire. Now I realise, I'm in need of more parkers and vests.
I try to walk as fast as I can back to the apartment without running, whilst praying it doesn't rain- I don't want a wet scarf. I'm almost certain nothing is worse than damp cotton weighing your head down on your neck. As go however, I can't help but glance around at the people around me, trying to pick out a familiar face; Noah's face, but amongst the crowd of people who've finished for the day, it's nearly impossible. Instead, I just focus on the path ahead, convincing myself that I don't need someone to keep me company as I walk, although it is nice from time to time.
As I turn to the apartment building, I mutter a brief 'hamdu li allah' for not raining on me and I breathlessly push open the door to be greeted by Noah and who I guess must be a resident, standing at their mailboxes. As soon as the door opens, both heads turn to me, causing the redness from the cold to further deepen in an embarrassed blush. I close the door quietly as Noah smiles and the man beside him turns back to the mail in his hand.
I make to go straight past them and up the stairs, but once Noah calls my name and I hear the rattle of his key in his mailbox lock, I pause and turn, mustering up a feeble smile and tug on the end of my scarf.
"Hi." I say.
"Hey," He replies. "You just finished?" I nod and make to continue up the stairs with Noah alongside.
"Yeah, you?" I steal a cautious glance in his direction as he shuffles the envelopes in his hand. I don't miss the handwritten text on one of them that resembles the two envelopes I mistakenly received. Once I see it, I can't help but think that whoever it is must be old fashioned or have a lot of time on their hands.
"Around three." Again I nod and bite the inside of my cheek. "I saw you out the balcony this morning." He comments and I can feel him looking at me as we reach the landing. He nods to my door. "Is your mum here?"
"Yeah." From where I stand I can smell mum's cooking slipping through the sides of the door and infusing the landing. What were the odds? However, despite being satisfied at having confirmed a gourmet meal, I now feel embarrassed to stand with Noah, who can probably smell it too. In the moment as we stand, I debate with my etiquettes and morals of inviting him for dinner. In my mind, right now knowing him, and knowing mum's inside, I have no problem in suggesting the offer, in fact I'm so inclined to do so considering he's offered me up a meal in two occasions at Abu Tamer's Kebab Hut, and this would simply be returning the offer. But, my morals, as they always do, seem to be offering more of a convincing argument with the words 'haram' and 'fitnah' being overly used.
And so, I linger awkwardly at my door, feeling stupid for not having anything to say and wimping out of inviting him to join mum and me. It no longer feels cold anymore, in fact given the embarrassing ordeal in my head, I've warmed up a few degrees and I'm sure it's evident on my face. Noah flickers his gaze between me and the envelopes in his hand as his hair fall over his forehead, now long enough to cover over his eyes.
"I'll see you 'round." He nods as he pushes his hair back and smiles.
"See you." I turn to my door as he turns to his and I enter, breathing a sigh of relief. I stand at the door and squeeze my eyes shut. 'You did the right thing' I tell myself, 'it was embarrassing, but you did it.' "Oh God." I groan, slipping off my shoes and placing them to the side.
"Hana?" Mum calls from the kitchen and pops her head out from the side of the wall. I don't reply, but I drag myself to the kitchen and drop my backpack on the floor. The kitchen is practically engulfed in the warm scent of proper cooked food that appeals to my nose but I no longer have the appetite. "I made a pasta bake. You barely have anything to cook with." She pauses as she opens the fridge and pulls out a sealed pack of spinach leaves. "You do know vegetables have a best before date."
"Noted." I mumble as I squeeze past her to grab a glass of water. Mum continues to rummage through the minimal contents of my fridge.
"You should start a compost bin on your balcony, it's a waste to throw this in the bin." She stands, holding the spinach and now half a lettuce sealed with glad wrap and a bag of carrots. To further emphasise, she shakes them in the air in front of me before placing them on the counter. "If you're not gonna try it, don't-"
"Buy it. Yeah I know." I bend down to the oven and glance inside as the top of the pasta where the cheese is bubbling into a melted pool.
"It'll be ready in a bit."
"Okay." I stand and walk around to the other side of the counter and can feel mum watching me.
"You okay hun?"
"I'm starving." I raise my eyebrows and unwrap my scarf. "I'm going to get changed."
~*~
Mum and I ate dinner on the floor, where she became well acquainted with Gibbo and laughed when I told her it was supposed to be Evan's idea of a souvenir. I did the dishes after and mum made shai and we returned back to my make do living space to drink it.
"Have you met your neighbours?" She asks. I blow into my mug as the first and only person comes to mind is Noah.
"Just one. He lives next door." Mum raises her eyebrows and takes a long and loud sip. "His name's Noah. He goes to Melbourne Uni." I shrug and take another sip from my mug, keeping my eyes trained on the red liquid.
"He's young."
"He's a third year."
"What does he look like?"
"Normal."
"Do you see him often?" I shrug.
"I guess." I look up from my mug to find mum staring at me with a smile. It's small, but it's there and I can almost hear what she's going to ask next. It's the same thing she asked when I told her about Evan.
"Do you like him?" I bite the inside of my cheek and fight the blush that's trying to make itself seen. However, unlike my straight mortified 'no' that I exclaimed when she asked about Evan, I found myself hesitating to reply.
"He's Muslim." Is what I go with, and just as it surprises me coming out of my mouth, it surprises mum. "He's an Aussie convert." I explain.
"Oh." I don't know what she means by that, but for some reason it doesn't sit well with me. "When did he convert?"
"About a year ago."
"So he's a proper Muslim."
"He's learning." Mum just nods.
"Well as long as you've got a good neighbour, there's nothing to worry about."
"Yeah." We both fall silent for a moment as I drink my slightly cooled shai.
"Do you think I'll see him?"
"Maybe." I don't let on to the fact that that I was speaking with him outside my apartment door only an hour or so ago, or that I almost invited him in for dinner, but for some reason, speaking about him with someone makes me feel shyly happy- the type of giddiness you get from doing something you shouldn't- and despite knowing it's wrong, I can't help it.
I guess on occasions like these, having a Christian-Buddhist mother, and parents with a not so relationship like relationship, has it's perks. Mum, despite her lack of heartiness, won't judge me for engaging with the opposite gender- she won't make me feel like I'm committing a crime, which right now makes me feel better. And what's more, she won't make mention of it to Baba- he won't ask her and she won't tell, and for me right now that's what I'd prefer.
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It's a bit shorter than usual I think, but I feel I can work quicker with this length. I'm trying really hard to stick with the schedule and give you frequent updates, so this is the Wednesday one. I hope you like this, and I'd appreciate if you tell me what you think of the pace, if it's too slow or too fast (keeping in mind I'm trying to keep it realistic).
Vote, comment, share- let me know what you think :)