kinda boring, i apologize!
BUT there will be a double update this week, chapter 11 will be published on Wednesday :)
thank you x
-
Samira had no explanation as to why dark bags sagged below her eyes.
"Come on, what is it?" Pestered Mahnoor.
Samira wasn't ready to tell Mahnoor what had done this to her: The thought of Harry had kept her up all night.
The two walked through the mall, a cluster of buildings surrounding a plaza, as it rained. Samira wore a braid, which had been messed up by the wind, and her olive raincoat; Mahnoor had a pink chiffon scarf covering her hair, cozy in a white sweater. Though Samira was always endeared by Mahnoor's petite size, Mahnoor kind of hated it.
They sat together in the food court, sipping their bubble tea. Samira found herself zoning out, distracted by thoughts about a certain someone, though she tried her best to comprehend Mahnoor's story.
As Samira kept glancing at her phone, she felt Mahnoor's eyes on her.
"Ma'am," Mahnoor said, shaking her head. "Why do you keep checking your messages?"
"No reason," Samira mumbled.
Before Samira could put her phone away, Mahnoor snatched it from her hands. Samira immediately reached out for it, but Mahnoor rose from her seat. At that moment, Samira regretted giving her the passcode.
"Mano!" Samira exclaimed. "Give it back."
"Oooh." Mahnoor raised her eyebrows. "Someone's been getting close to Harry."
Samira hid her blushing face with the palm of her hand. "Can I have it back now?"
Mahnoor giggled, returning the phone to Samira. "Is this why you haven't been sleeping?"
Samira's face turned a deeper crimson. "No . . ."
Mahnoor sat back down, staring at Samira with wide, curious eyes. "You have to tell me everything."
"Chill," Samira groaned, rolling her eyes. "There isn't much."
"I don't care, I wanna hear everything," Mahnoor retorted.
"Alright." Samira sighed. "Well, recently, I started to notice that he had . . . feelings. And I decided to confront him about it."
Mahnoor leaned in excitedly: "And then you?"
"Shut it down."
Mahnoor narrowed her eyes, giving her a look of hostility. "This isn't New Girl, Mimi," she said.
"Hold on, I'm not finished. He kinda lied and said that he didn't have feelings, and I was pissed. Then uh . . . I ghosted him for a week."
"You're really good at that," Mahnoor snorted.
"Shut up." Samira slapped her arm. "But then, you know when the . . . the incident happened at that masjid. I had no one, and somehow, he just showed up to make sure I was okay."
Mahnoor's eyes softened. "After you were a bitch?"
"Easy," Samira countered. She sighed. "It was weird. And he handled it so differently than I thought. Like, he didn't do or say anything stupid like a white friend would. He simply wanted to make sure I was okay."
Mahnoor snorted. "Reverse coconut?"
"Stop it." Samira paused, laughing. "Well . . . maybe."
"So, you like him now?"
"I think I always have. It just didn't hit me until he did that."
"We all knew except for you." Mahnoor rolled her eyes.
"Yeah . . ." Samira mumbled in defeat. "I kinda don't know what to do. I told myself I wouldn't date again, and Wapa is already looking for some guy, which I don't wanna worry about. And I also kind of rejected Harry," Samira explained. "God, this is a mess."
"Damn." Mahnoor sighed. "How are you going to fix this?"
"I have no fucking idea," Samira answered. "I have to apologize first, at the right time. But I'm not gonna do anything else."
Mahnoor glared at her. "Okay, but don't lead him on." She sipped her bubble tea, murmuring. "You do that without realizing."
Samira frowned, thinking of those moments she had with Harry. "Maybe that's how he caught feelings? Because, God, we are so flirty sometimes."
"See?" Mahnoor added. "Don't get sucked in. He is still white."
"It'll be hard not to." Samira thought of Harry's face, sighing in adoration. "His stupid smile has my whole heart."
"Well, take it back," Mahnoor rebutted.
"Okay, whatever," Samira said, changing the subject. "What's new with you?"
"Don't scream, okay?"
A smile lit up Mahnoor's lips, causing Samira's heart to hammer. This had to be the news she'd waited for since Mahnoor's marriage.
"You're pregnant?!" Samira squealed, covering her gaping mouth.
Then Mahnoor closed her eyes, sighing as she shook her head. "No . . . but we started trying."
Samira lost her breath, promising herself she wouldn't scream as her palm remained over her mouth. Mahnoor reached her hand out, squeezing Samira's shoulder and adding a sense of calm.
"Chill," she stated, smiling. "Make dua for us, okay?"
Samira nodded, holding a stupid grin on her face. "Okay."
After another hour of window shopping, Samira drove Mahnoor home before the rain got heavier. Before getting home herself, Samira went to the store to grab some junk food for the binge-watching she had planned for the night.
She discreetly opened the door of the home, hoping no one would catch her with the unhealthy snacks, but there Wapa was, staring at the grocery bag in her hand.
Wapa snickered, taking the bag from her hand. "Planning on going to the gym this week?"
"Nope," she replied, without her usual sunshine. It wasn't a question she wanted to be asked.
"Alright," Wapa replied, clearing his throat. "How's Mano?"
"She's good, alhamdulillah."
"Good."
The choppiness of the conversation made Samira chuckle; normally, he'd have something to tell her about, but instead, he stood silently with his lips pursed. She could see the two dimples on his cheeks, the same ones she got from him.
"Do you need anything, Wapa?" Samira asked, snorting.
Then she saw a sheepish grin.
"I thought we could go for a drive," Wapa suggested.
Samira swallowed; a drive alone with Wapa meant he wanted to talk about something serious. Drives like these were sometimes pleasant and sometimes not.
She rolled her eyes. "And where are we gonna go?"
"Costco."
Oh, Costco is fun.
She thought about it. If she went, Wapa would happily pay for anything she wanted, and there were a few things she needed to bring back with her to Liverpool.
"Okay, pops."
It poured heavily on the car; Samira watched the rolling raindrops as she sat in the passenger's seat. In the first few minutes of the drive, she remained silent while Wapa was on the phone either yelling at or kindly greeting whomever he spoke with. Samira could not tell.
After he hung up, he asked Samira about classes, about friends, about how it felt in Liverpool.
"So . . ." Wapa began. "Are you excited to graduate?"
Bruh, really? Not this question.
"I've only been in class for 7 weeks. I have a semester and a half to go, Wapa," Samira laughed disdainfully.
"I know. I'm just excited for after you graduate," he chortled.
Samira's cheeks crimsoned; this was why he brought her with him, so he could talk about her marriage.
"Wapa . . . can we not talk about this now?"
"But we have to, ma," he said. "Time will fly. You're 23 now. You'll be 24 by the time you come back."
Ah, the age card: She hated it. It was unfortunate that in her culture, all girls must grow up as soon as possible no matter their age. It was the driving force behind why she decided to study abroad: so she could learn to be independent and grow on her own.
"I know," she mumbled.
"I know you don't want to leave your old man," Wapa went on. "You get several choices. I'm not going to force you to marry anyone you don't like."
Samira sighed. "At least I have that."
"But he has to have good iman," Wapa added.
"Of course," Samira agreed.
"And he needs to be rich so he can take care of you." Wapa reached his hand over, raking his hand through the curls on her head.
Samira laughed, her heart warm. "I guess, Wapa."
The rain had stopped by the time they reached Costco. After circling around each aisle at least 7 times and watching Wapa devour food samples, Samira was able to get the things she needed.
When they got to check out their items, Wapa murmured in her ear, "See, this is why you need a rich husband."
And in that moment, looking at all the things Wapa had just bought for her, she understood. Maybe Wapa was going a bit overboard with the purchases, but she wouldn't mind having an affluent husband; it was actually one of the things that seemed promising about marriage.
After they got home, Samira bombarded Surat's bedroom, lying exhausted next to Surat on the bed.
"Hiiiii . . . " Samira got all up in Surat's face.
"Stop," Surat bellowed, trying to push her away. "Don't touch me."
But Samira obviously didn't listen; she wrapped her arms around Surat, squeezing her tightly. She only did this to annoy Surat, with full knowledge that her sister hated hugs.
"Noooo," Surat groaned. "Let go of me."
Elias, their fourteen-year-old brother, barged in and joined his sisters. He took the other side of Surat, embracing her, causing Surat to give up on freeing herself.
"Please let go of me," Surat mumbled, her voice muffled by her pillow.
"No," Elias retorted.
"I'll tell Omma you snuck in an extra hour of Fortnite," Surat turned her head to Elias, threatening him.
Samira lifted her head, shooting a glare at Elias. "You played without me?"
Elias began to giggle, showing off his crooked teeth. "You're annoying when you play."
"Hey." Samira got off Surat. "You're just mad that you die before me."
Elias blew a raspberry at Samira, leaving the room with his eyes glued to the game on his phone. Samira lay next to Surat, her head on her sister's shoulder.
Then her phone buzzed. She sat up and faced the wall, hoping Surat wouldn't see anything.
Harry: Sammmmmmmmm
Samira: Yeah
Harry: I've decided to call my phone charger apple juice.
Samira:
Harry: C'mon. That was funny
And Samira laughed to herself because it was funny. These new feelings surprised her every day.
Samira: Alright, it was
Harry: You laughed?
Samira: i did
Harry: Good
Harry: I wanted to make you laugh
Harry: But I am still going to call it apple juice.
Samira: aw 🥺
Samira: u do u fam
Harry: How are you?
Samira: I'm okay, u?
Harry: I'm fine.
Harry: Bored.
Harry: What are you doing?
Samira: listening to music
Harry: oh, what are you listening to?
Samira: Arctic Monkeys
Samira: Alex Turner >>>>>
Harry: Oh, I love them
Samira: omg twinz <3
Samira: do u watch bollywood?
Harry: I have, it's been a while though
Samira: do u have a favorite movie
Harry: Hmmm can't choose really
Samira: choose soon bc i wanna know
Samira: bro it's so late in England, why are u awake lol
Samira: It's like 2 am
Harry: don't know. I can't sleep.
Samira was endeared: He thought of a joke and texted her about it though it was so late into the night.
Samira: Okay well you should sleep
Samira: good night dummie
Harry: Haha
Harry: Good night
"You're still a white man's whore, huh?"
Samira gasped at Surat's comment, pressing the screen of her phone to her chest.
"You're so nosy," Samira whined.
Surat giggled, pointing at her accusingly. "You're on your phone all the time now, so I figured."
"Okay, so?"
"I know you're texting Harry."
Samira sat up, groaning as she leaned against the headboard. "I have a stupid crush on this dork."
Surat got up with her, taking the phone and scrolling through the texts.
"Man, he is a dork," Surat snorted, denoting the joke Harry made. "Apple juice? Did you think that was funny?"
"Of course I did." Samira sighed, thinking of his foolishness. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."
"Well, first you need to apologize for being a bitch," Surat lectured. "Then you can figure it out."
"I know, I will," Samira agreed. "I gotta do it as soon as I get back."
"Do you think he was jerking off before he texted you?"
Samira felt her cheeks redden, and she immediately snatched the pillow next to her, hitting Surat over and over again.
"Okay, dude, chill! I was joking!" Surat protected her head with her arms, screaming and laughing; it was all the same. "I'm sorry!"
Samira put the pillow down, trying hard to erase the image in her brain.
"I hate you so much," Samira said, rolling her eyes.
"Okay," Surat replied coolly. "But he was awake, texting you. He was thinking of you."
Samira's heart pounded in her chest. "I hope he does it all the time like I do."