Masqué Chapter 16

I'm sorry for the long delay, I'm still not in Kuwait and so, I couldn't post. But I found away to post, don't ask how but I was able to write this because honestly, I miss writing SO much.

Don't ask or nag for the next post because I don't know when it'll be, this isn't my laptop and the next post might have to be when I come back from my vacation. :/ Thanks to the people who have been patient and thank you for ALL the support, ESPECIALLY for the 1000 followers. THANK YOU!

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Previously on the last chapter..

"Al7een et3rfeen mnu hal bent ely y7bha?" I asked. I prayed she wouldn't say "it's you". I don't have feelings for Nawaf, he tricked me ages ago but all that did was make me love Saif even more. Secondly, this would ruin the relationship I had with my only sister, Bibi.


"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Bibi covered her face with her hands.


"Tell me, yallllaaa." I nagged, curiosity getting the best of me.


"He loves Asmaa too." Bibi mumbled into her pillow.


Whaaaaaat?

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It's been a few days since the last time I spoke to Bibi about Nawaf and his crush on Asmaa and Bibi. It was still shocking, it hasn't evaporated into my brain yet.

The whole situation felt a bit sneaky in a way, like that feeling you get when you know something is up, as if there's more to the story.

It was time for me to investigate. And this time, it was just me. Saif wasn't here to help out, he was still acting like he had amnesia, he had his eye on Ahmad, watching his every move, while I had my eyes on Ahmad's sister, Asmaa.

I had my caramel hair scrunched up into a tight bob, I had a pair of over sized shaped sunglasses on and my brown square checkered Louis Vuitton strap bag clutched in my hands. I was crouching behind a bush outside of KU (Kuwait University), my cotton light weight top hugging my heated up skin.

I know that this sounds crazy, but I had to investigate. Yeah, my knees were buckled and were aching with pain, the sun was beating against my back causing droplets of sweat to form over my forehead but I was doing this for Bibi. When I want something, I make sure I get it. And this time, I wanted an explanation.

I couldn't believe that Nawaf was Asmaa's second love. Bibi had slipped the fact that Nawaf hadn't actually said Asmaa was his second love, she had heard it from Asmaa herself. Bibi overheard Asmaa's conversation with her friend Dalia the other day back at my Grandmother's house. (She told me this after long hours of eating ice cream and watching Dear John 5 times.)

I pushed the dusty leaves out of my hair and tried to stick my head into the bush so I could catch a glance of Asmaa and her clique, sitting around at a white round table by the university.

Asmaa was sitting by her friends Farah and Dalia, all girls were wearing tight skin baring shirts that didn't compliment their curves, their curves were trying to spill out of their too tight cotton shirts.

I felt sorry for their skin, being suffocated by the corset type shirts. I had been observing the girls the last two days in the university, I heard Asmaa tell Dalia that she needed to talk to her about "the Nawaf subject" today.

Fingers crossed. I hoped that this was where I'd get my answers from.

My denim jeggings was grinding against the stone ground as I tried to listen onto Asmaa and her friends' conversation.

"Al7een yalla goulay, shel salfa Asoum?!" I heard Dalia bicker, her red smacked lips were pressed into a straight line in impatience.

"Ussh, wa6ay 9outich, zain?" Asmaa hissed in annoyance, her eyes glaring at Dalia's honey coloured ones. Asmaa kept turning her head around, looking for anyone who was close by, close enough to overhear Asmaa's words. This made it even more tempting to listen on Asmaa's conversation with Dalia and Farah.

"Shd3wa." Farah rolled her overly Chanel eyeliner-ed eyes. "Yalla goulay."

"Enzain, al7een mu 9a7 Bibi 3balha Nawaf y7bny?" Asmaa scooted closer to the girls, keeping her voice hushed.

"Eee, we planned that conversation that day 3shan tesma3na. Walla 9aida!" Dalia smirked, her grin slicing through her face and sharpening her features.

I knew it!

I dug my fingers into my Louis Vuitton bag to grab my iPhone, I hastily unlocked my cellphone and pressed on the Record app, I clicked on "record" with the brush of my fingers and urged the girls mentally to continue their conversation.

"Enzain," Asmaa repeated, "Al7een Nawaf yi7ib Bibi w gam y7girny!"

"Shtabeen men Nawaf? Offh, kela 3bala ohwa thgeel w a7la wa7d bil Kuwait." Farah bickered about Nawaf, smacking her tongue against her teeth to create the "tsk tsk tsk" sound.

"Chub, zain? Yishawig! Ever since he stopped my brother Ahmad from trying to hit me, I got the hots for him. Shifteeh bel shaleih? He's always shirtless and tanned. Akheeh 9ej ma76.." Asmaa whispered dreamily to herself, trying to imagine Nawaf shirtless.

"Wai3 khala9 fahemna, el walad 7ilu. Al7een shnu bitsaweeen? El walad ma y7bich, yi7ib Bibi." Farah reminded Asmaa in an insulting tone, not afraid of hurting Asmaa's feelings.

"Men 7alat Bibi? Hathee baby, when I show him how small her mind is, he won't want her anymore." Asmaa's evil grin returned, filling her face.

"And how are you going to do that?" Dalia asked with her tweez-ed eyebrow shooting up to her forehead.

I hinted a wave of jealousy from Dalia's side. I didn't blame her, she apparently dated Nawaf and was nothing to him now. I couldn't understand how those two girls (Asmaa and Dalia) were still friends. They were like snakes with venomous teeth, ready to bite off anybody's head that was brave enough to challenge them.

But it was clear that Asmaa was the leader of the clique. Whatever she wanted, she got, and her friends weren't about to meddle with her.

Asmaa was the mother of evil.

"Bikoun sahil, bagouleha ta3alay m3ana Chocolate Bar bel bidi3. We'll say we'll meet her there, she'll go alone and I'll call Thamer and Sultan to do the rest." Asmaa's dark chocolate eyes were dancing with dark evil joy.

"Thamer w Sultan?!" Farah's lazy eyes weren't so lazy anymore, they were practically bulging out of her eye sockets.

"Asmaa, la2 etdakhleenhum bel salfa." Dalia shook her head multiple times in disbelief.

Who was Thamer and Sultan? And why were the girls suddenly so afraid of the mere remembrance of the guys?

Were they dangerous?

"Cowards, it'll be even more fun this way." Asmaa widened her grin.

"Entay meynouna? Hal mara ma ra7 asa3dech. I'm not going to get myself into another one of your messes." Farah stood up from her seat, her hand reaching for her Burberry bag, ready to leave the table and give Asmaa her back.

"Farah, if you leave this table then you won't ever want to show your face in university." Asmaa threatened in a cool voice, her eyes glazing over Farah's shaky and sweaty hands.

Farah slowly let go of the strap of her Burberry bag and lowered herself down back into her seat, her face emotionless but her body trembling with different kinds of emotions, nervousness and fear.

"We promised to keep a rule about never telling anyone our secrets.." Farah mumbled in a frightful voice.

"Rules were made to be broken." Asmaa replied in another cool tone, causing Dalia's eyes to fill up with fear and regret as she watched Farah's fright exceed.

I'd never seen how powerful Asmaa was with her friends, I'd always had a feeling Asmaa was influenced in a bad way by her friends, that her friends had the control over her.

But in the end, the only one in control here was Asmaa.

Looks sure are deceiving.