Aarib didn't come to school today. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement of the year.
It's not like my heart craved to see him, rather I wanted to discuss about the assignment we are supposed to do together. He might be willing to fail, but I am not. I want to go to a good college someday in future, and looks like partnering with Aarib isn't gonna let me accomplish that.
"Aarib? Really?" Mehwish, my second best friend fake horrors by pulling on some weird scary expressions.
I shrug, saying, "He's not that bad. He just. . . Doesn't like to talk much." Oh em gee, did I really just defend him?
Zoha who's sitting opposite to me eyes me curiously. "What?" I mutter uncomfortably, while dipping my french fries in the sauce. The only fun thing about break is the food.
Mehwish casually drops her arm on Zoha's shoulder, considering they are probably even more good friends than Mehwish and I are. She tries to get it by smacking Mehwish, but ends up hitting the table instead.
Crazy people.
"Look Haya, we're just trying to look out for you. Aarib is dangerous and full of mysteries that nobody has ever been able to solve. Remember, you always used to read books about the bad guy with tattoos and piercings? The girl always suffers from his influence. You also know he isn't a good person," Zoha utters politely, despite the sour expression on her face.
I really don't know what's her deal. Just last week she was whining about Aarib being the perfect man, mean or not. And now suddenly she's ready to shoot him or something.
Pushing away the plate of fries, I argue, "This isn't a book, okay? And I know what I am putting myself into. What if this isn't the real him, just a mask he puts on so nobody tried to talk to him. And he doesn't have any piercings or tattoos."
Zoha rolls her eyes. "You also know this isn't about the tattoos and some metal in his face. Deep down you're sure he is going to be your biggest mistake of all." She grabs her bag and hoists up from the chair, her usual habit when she gets mad at me. "Don't say I didn't warn you." And then she's out of the hall.
~
My eyes go wide in shock when I see who's sitting on the sofa.
Aarib Feroze.
At my house? What even in the world does he want? And most importantly, how does he know my address?
His eyes snap from the carpet—at which he was intently staring—to me, and his expression darkens. I notice that he frowns lightly upon seeing whatever is sitting on the floor next to me. I look down and realize my bag fell from my hands.
Super. Great. Awesome.
Just when I pad over to him, he stands up. He's a fair few inches taller than me, so I have to stretch my neck to meet those blank eyes.
"What are you doing here?" I ask him.
He keeps on staring in my eyes. Why is he staring so intensely? Stop staring, Aarib. It's making me uncomfortable.
His lower lip disappears between his teeth, with a confused look pulled on his face. It looks like he himself has no idea. "I—I. . . We have an assignment to do. We can do it in school when we have free periods, but considering I couldn't make it today. . . So. . . ."
I nod quickly. The last thing I want is to make him uncomfortable or probably mad.
"Yeah, okay. Let's go upstairs in my room."
I wonder who let him in, but I hope whoever did is in one piece. I really love my family.
"Don't shut the door."
I still, with my hand on the handle.
Okay. . . Is he feeling fine?
So, with the door wide open, I cross the room and dump my stuff on the study table. He takes a spot on my bed, while his eyes take in my room. Although I've known him since probably forever, I know nothing about him. His family, siblings, lifestyle, nothing.
"Don't you feel sick of getting everything you wish for?"
My brows knit in the middle. I flop on the bed opposite to him with my gaze lowered. "I don't know how I am supposed to answer that," I reply with a half laugh. It's the first day and he is already making me nervous.
When I look up, I catch him staring at me with. . . probably hatred? I am not really sure.
He leans back against the headboard and crosses his arms over his chest. "Of course you don't get tired," his voice is barely above a whisper, almost like he's talking to himself. "You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You love your life."
I tilt my head to study him more carefully. He refuses to look at me. "Don't you?" He frowns, confused so I add, "love your life?"
He half laughs, half frowns. "It's none of your damn business."
I literally laugh.
None of my damn business? So he can ask me such questions but I cannot?
"You're the one who started conversing on this topic," I remind him. "I am sure you have a huge reason behind your rude behavior to others."
I've always wondered every reason for how he behaves.
"Whatever. Stop talking about my life."
I scoff with a roll of my eyes. Zoha was right. He isn't worth anything. All he does is treat people with such poor behaviour. I feel pity for his family because this boy sitting next to me, I'm sure, hasn't done anything nice for them either.
With a long sigh I march over to the door of my room while he stares blankly at me.
"I am tired. Maybe we can do it tomorrow in school." If you even bless us with coming.
The expression on his face changes from blank to mad as fast as lightning. My grip on the handle tightens when he nears me, for whatever reason. I know he would never hurt me.
"Just know that you make me so sick that I want to puke for days."
What?
He's gone and I am frozen on the spot trying to absorb his words. I make him sick? I was so nice to him! This man has a heart of stone. He will never be happy in his useless life. He clearly doesn't want to live it peacefully, neither does he want for us to have peace.
I refuse to cry over some rude comment he tossed at me. But the whole night I couldn't get it out of my system.
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