A Chance For Love episode 12
A CHANCE FOR LOVEđ
Episode twelve
đ”ïžFriends
âI donât think we can be friends. We are from two different worlds.â
***
An hour or two ago, I had stridden into the sickbay, hopeful that the end of my drip session signaled brighter days ahead. But here now, I headed back to class, my hope drained to nothing. What would become of Cinderella without her fairy godmother?
Half-way up the stairs, I stood face-to-face with Raheem, the last person I wanted to see at the moment. He stood motionless for a second too long, giving me the idea that his haughtiness wouldnât let him step away for me to pass.
I side-stepped, but he mirrored my move, making me almost bump into him. Clenching my fists, I sidestepped again, but there he stood, blocking my way yet again.
âWhatâs your problem?â I asked, my voice softer than what Iâd gone for. Curse my ill health and todayâs news.
Raheem grinned. He obviously cared nothing about my off mood. If anything, it seemed to intrigue him. âArenât we destined to always run into each other right here?â
As subtle as I could, I examined my surroundings. I noted his point. We stood at approximately the same place weâd stood on our first meeting. But todayâs meeting differed greatly, as evident in the way he stared at me. His eyes held no trace of hate or irritation. Rather, he regarded me as he would a friend. Did he see me as a friend? After the time weâd spent trying to unravel the Bloody Miri case, it would only be natural for friendshÂĄp to ensue.
âAre you okay?â he asked, searching my eyes.
âWhy would I be?â I asked. âYou make me sick.â
Smiling, he bit his lower lip. âAh. Look what effect I have on you. Intense.â
âDo you need something?â I asked.
He seemed to ponder over my question for a moment or two. Done, he shrugged. âNone that I know of.â
âThen I want you out of my way,â I said.
âSuch a hurry to get rid of me,â Raheem said, clutching his chest in mock pain. âAnd just this morning, you badly needed me back as your seatmate. TouchĂ©.â
âWhat? I never said anything like that.â Or had I?
Raheem chuckled, his eyes twinkling in a way that made my heart leap. Although he could not see the colors of emotions in,side of me, I inwardly cringed at the unseen mess unfolding.
âSo you think, Miss Brown,â Raheem said. âSo you think. Werenât you the one trying so hĂŠrd to get madam Charity to make me return to your seat?â
I never had any intentions of making him return to my seat. If anything, I wanted him to rot somewhere else. But I would not stoop so low to explain myself to him. And he probably knew better than to expect an answer.
âYou lied about the Hypermetropia,â I said.
A proud smile settled on his face. For a moment, I felt like a pupil staring up into the proud face of her teacher after solving a brain-tangling equation.
âOf course,â he said. âOh, and about what you said back there, thanks.â
I couldnât believe Iâd allowed him engage me in a conversation. I could just walk away, make it all end. But every fiber of my being willed me to stay back, and against my will, I found myself easing into the discussion.
âWhat?â Although I knew nothing good could come out of this, I had to know what he referred to.
âAbout me looking like a rockstar.â Raheem punctuated his statement with a drop dead gorgeous wink.
âI didnât mean that,â I said in a futile attempt to shield my reputation, although I knew the harm had already been done. Now he saw me as no better than those other girls drooling over him. How could I have let the rockstar thing slip?
âSure you didnât,â he teased.
âI didnât mean that! I would never compliment someone like you.â My face wrinkling with disgust, I made a fanning gesture.
He glued his lean body to the balustrades. âSomeone like me?â
I couldnât help but notice the open road calling out to me. With nothing in my way, I could leave now. But here I stood, rooted to the sâ±0t, spelled by Raheemâs irresistible aura. He spelt trouble. Him and all the messy emotions he brought with him.
Iâd thought staying away from him would come easy. But here I stood, barely even one day away from him, but already aching to spend just as much time with him. Days ago, Iâd been in a hurry to rid myself of the hellishly addictive emotions he triggered. But for some reason I could not fathom, I died to feel them all over again. Iâd never been such a fool.
Knowledge of Stellaâs departure had left me vulnerable, emotional. And I couldnât do a thing about it. Against my will, my mind had worked to find someone with which to fill in the void sheâd left. And it chose Raheem.
I stared into the sinfully handsome face that rubbed me off speech. As though heâd been waiting for me to hold his gaze for the umpteenth time, he asked, âDo you have a problem with me?â
Of course. Had I not had a problem with him, I would be able to gain control of my limbs and escape from his line of sight.
âAll racists can rot, for all I care,â I said.
Raheemâs brows furrowed. But why would he be bothered about the statement Iâd just made? More than once, I had already clarified my stand against racists, and although I cared nothing about how he felt, I noted he hadnât been bothered then. So why now?
âI am no racist,â he said.
Although I wanted to stick to my first assumption about him being racist, I knew holding on to it would only be an act of foolery. His actions these past few days said a lot, kicking racism out of the question. His hate for Sir Amadi had a reason other than racism. And then, the sluttiness of Cynthia and his other fangirls had earned them his attitude. I doubted heâd act any different had they been white.
A wry smile turned up the corners of my l-ips as I remembered the case with Ingrid, a science student from Madrid. Obviously, sheâd also thought him as racist, and her white skin as an advantage. But she irritated him no less.
And me? Did he despise me? Two days ago, Iâd scre-m out a âyesâ. And Iâd be as sure of it as I was of being a girl. Now, though, yes seemed wrong. And I had many points with which to back up this claim.
While there were many people to choose a sidekick from, he had chosen me. Who would want to spend so much time with someone he despised? If he despised me, wouldnât he treat me the same way he did the others? But here I was, with him trying hĂŠrd to engage me in a conversation.
With a snap of his finger, I snapped out of my thoughts. He gawked at me, still expecting me to speak. I thought back to the statement hovering in the air; the statement of racism.
âOkay, maybe you arenât racist,â I said, defeated. âBut you receive special treatment from everyone. You donât even try to discourage it.â
âHow on earth am I supposed to discourage it?â Raheem asked.
I shrugged one shoulder. âYou could just ask them to stop or something. Give them the idea.â
He held up a finger. âWait. Youâre jealous?â
Jealous? Was that the word? Prior to now, I could have sworn Raheem had a devilishly sharp brain, especially after he successfully exposed Nengiâs schemes. But now, he had altered my perception.
âExcuse me?â I asked. âWhy on earth would I be jealous of you?â
âWow,â he said. âIf looks could kill. You should go easy on me, Toria. Keep treating me like this and youâll be driving me back to my ruined country. I bet youâd love to hear of my death.â
âDonât joke about things like that,â I said. Just to let him know my Iâd heard my petname slip off his tongue, and that my opinion about it hadnât changed, I added, âRah.â
Although I acted like I only intended to irritate him, deep down, I wanted him to get used to my nick for him. His numerous fangirls flashed across my mind. I hoped none of them had the guts to âRahâ him. Not even in a slutty chit-chat with their friends, or in the dirty black box of their minds.
I cringed at the thoughts running through my mind. Did I even have any right to think like this? To be jealous over him?
Diverting my mind from this evil emotion surging through me, I watched him feign indifference as though he hadnât been pissed off by the petname. Although he only did it to match my nonchalance, I felt a flicker of hope within me.
My wandering mind returned to our ongoing conversation. Securing my attention, he said, âIâm only repeating the things you said when Sir Amadi introduced me to the class. According to you, Iâd be blown to bits in the twinkle of an eye.â
At the snap of his fingers, I cursed the moment Iâd said those awful words to him. Nobody deserves to be blown to bits. I shuddered at a mental image of tens of people, maybe hundreds, lying helplessly on the ground as the Iraqi war raged on. These people had families. Families that would never see them again.
Families like the Kadirsâ who had lost a member in the Baghdad suicide bombing. As much as I wanted to pry, to find out about his other family members, if they were all safe, and how theyâd coped during these heated times in Iraq, I knew he would not welcome my probing.
Raheemâs mock innocence stole me over.
âWhat now, Miss Brown? You donât look so thrilled about me dying anymore. What has changed?â
âOnly fools joke about death,â I said.
âBlowing me to bits was your idea. So weâre together in this, I guess. Seems weâre stuck being partners. Seatmates. Sleuths. And now, partners in foolery. How exciting.â A bubble of laughter erupted from his l-ips.
The other Raheem deserved being blown to bits. But not this one. Now I felt like a horrible person. âIâm sorry I said that.â
âWhat?â he asked.
âAbout you beingâŠblown to bits. I was just so annoyed, Iââ
âDonât apologize,â he said.
Iâd been wrong about him all along. He should at least let me apologize. It would make me feel more human than monstrous. âI really am sorry.â
âYou said you wished me dead because you were annoyed,â he said. âAnnoyed about what exactly?â
âYou were an a$$,â I said. His subtle nod told me to elaborate. âFirst, you called me a sleepwalking zombie. And as though that wasnât enough, you regarded me as though I were less than vermin.â
âBullocks! I made you feel like vermin?â
âLess than vermin.â I corrected. A wry smile stretched my l-ips.
âNow I admit I really was an ass.â Mirroring my smile, he raked a hand through his hair. âWould you blame me though? Iâm forced to school here, and as though that isnât enough, I have tons of fangirls to deal with. When I should be thinking of a way to convince my dad to join us here where itâs safe.â
I gasped. âYour dad is still in Iraq?â
Raheem raised his brow at me and I knew Iâd overstepped my boundaries. I took a step back as though the literal move would be any good.
âSorry,â he said. âBut I donât discuss my family with strangers.â
âOh,â I said, hoping I looked as indifferent as I sounded.
âYeah, so, how about we try to be friends? Like get to know each other all over again?â
âDonât flatter yourself,â I said. âI donât think we can ever be. We are from two different worlds.â
âHuh?â Raheem said, his voice drenched with an amusement I couldnât understand. âRelax, please. Iâm not asking for a date or anything. You intrigue me is all. So letâs take a shot at it?â
âI intrigue you?â
âScratch that. Toria, I want to be your friend. Will you reject me?â
He wanted to be my friend? He had to be teasing. I stared into his eyes for a clue. Anything to give him away. But found him eagerly waiting. The genuinity of his proposal unnerved me. FriendshÂĄp was no big deal. But Raheem had made it clear from the start that he could go on just fine with close to zero friends. So what had changed?
âWhy me?â I blurted out. âYou reject everyone else. I should give you a taste of your own medicine.â
âFair enough.â
Silence built a bridge between us. And while this seemed to unnerve me, I couldnât say the same about Raheem. Taking his time, he gawked at me as though seeing me for the first time. With folded hands, I looked away, only to hear him burst into laughter.
Before I could ask, he said, âThe perfume I wore the first day made you sick and drove you away from me. But todayâs perfume seems to win you over.â
I rolled my eyes. He needed more than a good perfume to win me over.
âI thought you were going somewhere?â I asked. âI mean, you were hurrying down the stairs.â
âYeah,â he said. âI was headed somewhere. But that wonât be necessary now. Iâve got what I was going to fetch. You.â
I smiled. Although I knew heâd joked about it.
He smiled back. âThere. You should always smile. Hiding your beauty behind a grim face isnât cool.â
âAnd hiding the Western High student in you behind stubbles, a stylish hair and unfitting shoes isnât cool either.â
When he clenched his teeth, I knew Iâd struck a nerve. Clearing his throat, he said, âGo get your stuff. Iâll wait for you at the lot.â
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. âUnless you want to trek home. But I doubt you have the strength for that. Then again, Iâm probably wrong, since you have the strength to annoy me. If you had a wristwatch youâd know the closing bell went off almost an hour ago. Seems you had a hangover at the infirmary. So, are you letting me drive you home?â
So much for forgetting to wear my wristwatch today. Raheem gave me a moment or two to think things over. Walking home would make me arrive an hour late. And my stepmother wouldnât be pleased. Hell! I was already an hour late. Things wouldnât go well. And I didnât want to make it all worse by prolonging my away time. A ride from Raheem would sure he helpful.
âI will find you at the lot,â I said.
âIt takes you eons to make up your mind over petty things,â he said. âHow long then would it take you to reply yes to a date?â
âYou have to ask to find out,â I said.
âVery well then.â With an old fashioned bow, he said, âGo on a date with me?â
âNo.â
Grinning, he took a squint at his wristwatch. âHalf a split-second. Now letâs see how many split-seconds it takes you to fetch your bag and meet me at the lot.â
He turned on his heels and descended the stairs. I headed for my locker, grabbed my backpack and str-de to the lot.Resting against his car, with dark sunglasses hiding his gorgeous eyes, he glanced at his watch.âTwo minutes,â he said, seemingly impressed. âDid you run?â
âI need to be home early,â I said. âThatâs the only reason I accepted your help.â
âItâs a little too late for that now. Arriving home early, I mean.â He walked around the car and yanked open the front passenger seat. âIâm sure your family will understand you didnât mean to turn up late.
âI wouldnât be so sure if I were him. Ignoring the door he held open, I reached for the back door.
âI donât need help getting into a car. And besides, hereâs where Iâll be comfortable.â
Raheem watched me climb into the car. Before I could protest, he helped me shut the door. With a subtle shake of his head, he said,
âA gentlemanâs got to be a gentleman.â
Grateful for the tinted glasses, I smiled as I watched him shut the front passenger door. Once sat behind the steering wheel, he strapped on his seatbelt, started the engine and turned on the air conditioner. He pulled out of the school premises. âWhich way is your house?â
âLeft,â I said.He took a left turn and glanced at me from the rear view mirror. âAre you cold?â
âIâm fine.â Could I say otherwise? Being with him triggered an unsettling feeling in my stomach, turning me back into the quiet girl I once was. I found myself counting down to when Iâd get home.Embracing the cold overwhelming me, I hugged myself. Atleast, I knew that feeling, as opposed to the foreign ones Raheem triggered.â
So, Cynthia Brown is your sister?â he asked. âOr is it just a coincidence with the surname? Because I see nothing similar between you two.â
âWe are sisters,â I said. Although if he asked Cynthia, she would say otherwise.
âWow,â he said, the word heavy on his l-ips. âReally. I could never have imagined. That is, without the surname thingy, and the fact that you come to school in the same car. You are from two different worlds. The only similarity is that youâre both in the same school, same class, youâre both really bright students. And then the surname thing, which leads me to the conclusion that you share the same parents.â
For the next few moments, he kept mute, probably wanting me to speak. It didnât take long for him to realize I would not sever the silence.
âTwins?â he asked.
âNoâ
He tilted his head to look at me from the rearview mirror. âArenât you both 17?â
âSheâs August. I am October.â I knew my honest answer would only make him probe. But what could I do? Lying wasnât one of my strong points, unfortunately.â
How is that possible?â he asked. âUnless of course, thereâs something you arenât telling me.â
âOf course,â I said, focusing my attention on the road.â Keep going, straight ahead till you reach the junction. From there, itâs left till you pull over.â
âGot it,â Raheem said. He slid back into the conversation I didnât want to have with him. âItâs weird. The kind of relationshÂĄp you have with your sister. Arenât siblings close? If I had a brother or a sister in my class, we would be really close friends. But thatâs not the case with both of you. Problems?â
I didnât remember being obliged to answer every question he ask. Determined to end this conversation without a word, I kept my gaze focused outside. Perhaps when his next questions went unanswered, he would get the message.
âDonât worry,â he said. âSheâll come around. Siblings fight anyway.â
âNot a fight that goes on for a lifetimeâ, I almost said aloud.
âYour parents. What do they do?â
âMum manages dadâs factory,â I said. âSheâs home almost 24/7 though, so letâs call her a semi housewife.â
âTypical. And dad?â An image of dad drifted to my mind. I blinked, willing it back to the unlit corner of my mind. I couldnât dwell on my hurt now. âHeâsâŠdead.â
Raheem hadnât expected a news like this. His momentary quietude told me so. âIâm sorry about that,â he said, his voice comfortingly soft.
âNow you know everything about me,â I said. âTell me about you.âGuilt snarled at me as I realized the dishonesty in my words. Iâd made him believe he knew everything about me, when in reality, my life could fill volumes of books, and hebarely even knew the prologue. Then again, did I trust him enough to disclose this to him?
âWhat can I say?â Raheem said. âWe relocated from our country because of the bloodshed and all. Trying to fit in here.â
âDo you like it so far?â I asked.
âSo far so good,â he said. âWhat can I say?â
âAnd your father?â I asked. Raheem played deaf to my question. âThatâs not fair now, is it? I told you about my father. And besides, you made me believe that once we became friends, you would tell me.â
âHe stayed back,â Raheem said. âHe owns a hospital and doesnât think it proper to leave the sick and injured and flee. Weâre trying to make him understand that his place is here. Family must come first. Not some other people. But then again, these people have lives, families, and hope.But still. I donât know what Iâd do if I lost him.â
âYour dad is a hero,â I said. âHe will be fine. His good heart and the Almighty will keep him safe. You believe in God, donât you?â Raheem didnât seem pleased with my question.
âDo I look like someone who doesnât?â
âYour dad will be fine,â I said.
âI am scared,â he admitted. And in that moment, an almost irresistible urge to comfort him with more than words tugged at me.
âI know my dad is a hero. But this isnât fantasy, Miss Brown. This isnât fiction. This is real life. A place where heroes donât live to tell the taleâŠ
ââHush,â I said. âDonât say things like that.â
âBut itâs true. And you know it. Iâm just really scared, and I canât help it. I know I sound overly emotional, but I ring him every minute. Hearing his voice and knowing heâs alright is what keeps me going.â
âI know this is hĂŠrd for you,â I said. âBut trust me on this one. He will be fine. He will come back to you.â
âHe better,â Raheem said. âOr I swear Iâll go get him myself.â
Going back there would be suicide. How could he let such thoughts cross his mind? If he didnât fear death, he should at least consider those who cared about him.âTell me youâre kidding,â I said.
âI wonât be kidding when things get rougher than they are now andâŠâ He trailed off, his eyes burning into something on the other side of the road. I followed his gaze and found a teenage girl hanging around with a boy most likely in his mid twenties. But why were they the object of his fury? Pulling over, Raheem yanked off his seatbelt. âWait here.â
He darted out of the car and zigzagged across the busy road. Honks blared at him, but he paid them no mind, not even slowing his stride till he reached the couple. Once there, he pulled the younger girl away from the boy. Glowering at him, he spat out some noticeably unfriendly words. With every word, he jabbed his right pointer toward the boy. And although I strained my ears, I could not make out a single word.
âHave you lost your mind?â the boy said, his voice only loud enough to reach my ears.
Raheem spoke, his voice still inaudible. His hands lashed out, shoving off the boy. The boy jumped a step backward,and the next moment, he lunged forward, poised to retaliate.The girl sprang forward, placing herself between the boys.
âPlease, Iyke. Let it go.â
The fight, whatever had triggered it, had drawn the attention of many. I stared, unblinking, trying to figure out what relationshÂĄp Raheem had with the girl.
âStay away from us,â Raheem roared. âOr the next time, it wonât be funny.â
Grabbing the girl by the wrist, he led her toward the car. She turned back to give her other friend one last glance. Raheem let go of her as they neared the car. He stood by the driverâs seat and waited for her to occupy the front passenger seat, but she just stood there, gripping the handle and glowering at him.
âGet in right this minute, Farah Kadir!â Raheem said.The girl, Farah, yanked open the door and plopped down on the seat. Raheem did the same, the slam of his door echoing his sisterâs. Without a word, he started the engine.
Moments passed, and no one said a thing. If it were up to Farah alone, the silence would last an eon. Arms folded defiantly, she looked out the window. She could be mistaken for a Nigerian, save for her reddish brown hair and her accent.
âI canât believe this,â Raheem said. He obviously didnât want to use the menacing tone heâd used on the other boy with his sister, and so heâd stayed quiet to extinguish the rage burning intensely in,side of him. âYou arenât fully recovered and canât start school. But youâre fit to hang around with Iyke! Hell! Youâre starting school on Monday!â
âI am yet to recover,â Farah said.
âDo not infuriate me with your lies!â Raheem retorted. âHow come you were even with him anyway?â
âHe came over,â she said.
âWhat? Mum let him? Good lord! Youâre only thirteen!â
âFourteen!â Farah corrected.Raheem flicked his right hand.
âWhatever!â
âYouâre forgetting heâs our cousin,â Farah muttered.
âDo not call that son of a gun my cousin!â Although Raheem did a good job at keeping his voice calm, the menace lingering in it didnât escape my notice. âYou know what kind of life he lives. Smoking and heavy drinking and gambling. Not to mention wild partying and his criminal records. Is that the kind of a person you want to associate with? Iâm having a word with mum as soon as weâre home. She is never to let him meet with you again. Unless under my supervision.â
Farah let out an animated grunt. âGood lord. Why do I have a big brother?â
âBecause you need someone to stop you from walking into hell,â Raheem said.
âThere is no way Iâm starting school on Monday,â Farah said. âThose kids will laugh at my inability to hear without an additional pair of ears.â
She had a hearing disability? I could never have guessed she relied on hearing aids. Surely, if I hadnât noticed, then the kids at school wouldnât either.â
Curse that stupid bomb,â Farah said, dissolving into tears.Raheem fumed.
âHad you stayed home like I asked you to, your ears would be intact. But you! You had to sneak out to see a movie! A very lame movie. As though you would die without it. And did you see it in the end? No!â
âDonât remind me,â Farah said. âPlease. Now, I regret stepping out that day. I shouldnât have. I didnât know.â
âYou didnât know?â Raheemâs voice rumbled. âJust how many times did I ask you not to leave home once you were back from school?â
âIt could have happened anytime!â Farah yelled. âEven when we were going to school!â
âBut it didnât! What if I had lost you? Do you think I can cope with that? Do you think mum can live through another loss? She hasnât even gotten over Uncleâs death! You didnât even think of that, did you? Now, youâre out with Iyke, despite my warning to stay away from that no-goodboy. You never learn to listen to elders, do you?â
âDonât sound like a sage,â Farah said. âYouâre only 17!â
Raheem raised his eyes to the rear-view mirror, and they met mine, making me shrink back in an emotion close to fear. Iâd listened in on a private conversation, knowing more than I should.
What next? âYou said after the junction, is it left?â he asked.
Farah turned away from the window. âHuh?â She still hadnât realized a third presence. Not until she heard my response. âYes.â
Her head snapped in my direction. I noticed her emerald green eyes, just like Raheemâs.âWhat? Thereâs someoneâŠ?â Turning to Raheem, she smacked his upper arm.Raheem grunted. âWhat the hell?â âYou should have told me we were not alone,â she said.
âI would have put on my best act, saving the drama for when we got home.
Now youâve made me mess up my first meeting with her. God knows the impression she has of me now.â
âSorry,â Raheem said. âYou should have told me the bomb also damaged your sight.â Waving him off, Farah returned her focus to me. âSheâs beautiful!âShe twisted around in her seat and trapped my hand in a firm handshake. âIâm Farah!âI beamed at the little darling. âVictoria.âGasping, she gripped Raheemâs shoulder and wiggled her full brows. Ignoring her, Raheem hummed a tune.She returned her attention to me.
âSorry. I didnât know someone else was here. Iâm sorry you had to listen to such a messy conversation. Raheem and I, weâre always like that. But Iâm still his little cupcake.â
âIâm sorry about the war,â I said
.âBlah,â she said. âItâs okay. Like, I get to mute him out when he talks too much. I just yank out my additional ears and ta-da! I donât hear a thing he spits out. Thatâs an advantage.â
Raheem hadnât stopped humming.âHeâs told me a lot about you,â Farah said.
âFarah!â Raheem warned.â
This boy, he tells me everything. Sometimes I wonder what I am. A human diary?â Flipping back her hair, she went on, âWhen he told me you got sick, I knew it had to be that cursed perfume of his. To be honest, it makes me sick too.
ââFarah!â
âAnd then I asked him to use mine,â Farah went on. âAfter much persuasion, he did. He said he was going to approach you and note your reaction. He said if you reacted to that one as well, he would stop using fragrances, because obviously, he was planning to get close to you.â
âI am going to kill you,â Raheem muttered under his breath.Farah chuckled.
âNot before I kill you with this exciting behind-the-scenes, sweet brother. You should be indebted to me âcause my bottled love potion worked, and now sheâs coming home with us.â
âSheâs not coming to our house,â Raheem said.
Farahâs face dropped. âWhat?âWhen she got no further response from Raheem, she turned to look at me, her eyes cute like a puppyâs. âYou arenât?
I shook my head.
She pouted.âButâŠbutâŠwhy?â
âBecause she has a home,â Raheem said.
Farahâs face lit up. âOh, youâre giving her a ride then? Amazing! Raheem never gives any girl a ride. Private space intrusion. What has changed?â
Raheem played deaf to her question. But at least he had stopped humming that dreadful tune. The sign board of Crystal Avenue stole my attention, and my joy. If it were up to me, Iâd stay forever in the company of my two new friends.
âUhmâŠI am okay here,â I said.
âHere?â Raheem echoed, his gaze locked on the street. He slowed down, and it took forever for him to brake the car. âAre you sure?â
His question almost made me laugh out loud. How wouldnât I be sure where I lived?
I could tell he also wished I could stay longer, but his ego would never let him admit it.
âWhere is your house?â Farah asked.
âIf itâs in,side the street, Iâm sure my brother doesnât mind. Let us drop you at your gate.â
âNo,â I half-scre-med. âNo. Please. Itâs trouble.â
âPlease,â Farah insisted. âItâs no trouble. Iâm sure Raheem would be honored.â She cast her brother a side-glance, willing him to speak. But he said nothing. He just held the steering wheel in a death grip and stared straight ahead.
âMy stepmother is going to kill me!â I said, my voice giving away my fright.
âOkay,â Raheem said. âBye.â
âBye.â Flashing Farah a smile, I climbed out of the car.
âHey,â Farah called. âCan I have your number? Iâm sure my brother is dying to ask for it, but heâs too arrogant for hiscomfort.â
âI donât have a phone, Farah.âFarah held her breath. She looked over at Raheem, and when he didnât return her stare, she redirected her stunned gaze to me. âAre you serious? Who doesnât have a phone in 2017?â