Amatullah gasped, and blushed fiercely, feeling her face go red. Her old college buddy was standing outside her doorstep. She blinked, and was about to do her signature handshake with him when she remembered how old she was again.
Last year college was a different story. There was waaaay too much free mixing, and talking to guys, and giggling whenever a guy said something that was so not funny. And now she had changed. She had realised what she was like wasn’t good, so she changed. And she wasn’t about to back into her old habits any time soon.
Jamie had been her bestest friend ever, and they had gone everywhere together. She found girls to be too bitchy and gossipy, so she settled for a guy as a close friend. She had told him everything, all the troubles at home, the arguments she used to have with Abdullah – everything. (This was when Abdullah was a horrid brother just like all the others – when he was still a kid basically). And he told her everything back too. They were bonded in some sort of way that was impossible to break. That was when she didn’t know free mixing with guys was haraam. When she got to know, she started making more girl friends and tried to avoid him and edge away. He noticed something though.
The next day he asked her to marry him.
She had said yes.
He had left the day after that, with no sign of telling her anything.
She had gotten over it though, gotten on with her life; not like other people if they were in her situation.
After the whole surprise omg-it’s-you thing, he asked if he could come it. She took one look at Sarah and started laughing.
“Ha! We have kids in the house you know.” She sniggered.
Jamie laughed as well. “Ugh, I know, I know, whatever you felt I did too – seeing as you told me all about it.” He smiled, remembering the memories that deserved to be remembered.
An awkward silence walked in. They shifted for a bit, wondering what to do next. Jamie on some stranger’s doorstep, carrying another stranger in his arms, and Amatullah, in her own house looking at two strangers – friends she lost.
The silence got unbearable, and Amatullah being her couldn’t stand it.
“Look, you can come in if you want, dump her on the sofa in the front room. No-one goes in there anyways.” She made way for him to pass, smelling the odour of alcohol, sweat and vomit on Sarah. She nearly puked herself, thinking about changing her decision.
“Thanks,” he said, after dropping the passed out Sarah on the couch. “Is there any where where I can..err..wash my hands?” he said with a nervous grin.
“You know where the bathroom is.” She muttered, gesturing down the hallway.
When he had gone to the bathroom, she instantly let out a flood of relief, sighing as she dropped to the floor. She regretted letting him come in however, wishing she had gone out instead. But she needed some good answers. And fast.
Jamie made his way upstairs, feeling the familiar feel of the uneven banister. He got up to the bathroom, and opened the right tap, knowing that was the hot one. He rinsed his hands, massaging the flower scented hand wash into his pores.
What a coincidence he thought, me seeing her… he shook his head, smiling at the thought.
His smile turned upside down in an instant though, when he remembered the unanswered questions that were bound to make an appearance. He took a deep breath pacing himself for what was to come. He rubbed his hands together, blowing into them, eyebrows up, as he walked down the stairs again.
He was met with a very serious Amatullah, who was conveniently waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Nervous?” she said sarcastically, nodding at his hands.
“Yeah..haha…” he tried to laugh it off, but the laughter died as soon as it was created.
Amatullah pursed her lips together and her eyebrows shot up. Well let’s see what this guy has to say for himself. She thought, preparing herself for the heartbreaking answers she always yearned to know.
Crap… Jamie thought at the same time, giving her a nervous grin.
She set off to the living room, and nodded him to follow. Opening the door, she told her little sister, who was, Jamie saw, equally pretty as Amatullah, to shoo off somewhere. She sat him down on the sofa opposite hers and when she had sat down herself looked at him demandingly.
“Well what…” he muttered.
“You know exactly what Jamie.” She warned, her tone getting a pitch higher.
He sighed. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“Err, let me think, maybe why you proposed to me then decided to leave the day after that?!” she said, her sarcasm dissipating within the last few words.
“Ah, yes that.” He looked at the ceiling.
Amatullah huffed and crossed her arms like a fussy child. “Well, f you don’t want to tell me, then I don’t want to know. You know where the door is.” She looked him in the eye the whole time.
Jamie chuckled. “You were always the only one who could trick me with backward psychology. I’d forgotten how stubborn you were, erm, are.”
Amatullah almost smiled herself, remembering, but she managed to keep a serious face. “Well, did it work?” she asked hopefully.
“Totally. I’m a sucker when it comes to you Am.” He smiled at her again, and this time she smiled back, her heart fluttering at the use of her old nickname that he had made.
He sighed again his face straightening out, looking at her with a serious look on his face. He walked up to her so that their faces were almost touching.
“Amatullah, I love you.” He whispered.
That was all Asiyah needed as a topic to gossip about. Amatullah had a lover. Wait till she spread this to the entire community! She was going to be famous. She had already made up the story In her head: This random guy knocks on the door, and Amatullah totally fall at his feet, and they both admit they love each other and will do for the whole of eternity.
What Asiyah didn’t know – as she wasn’t patient to hang around to find out – was what Amatullah did next. And it was definitely NOT declare her undying love for him back.