Le Chase Chapter 12

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"Zaid?" My mother's voice echoed through the whole house.

"3aysha.." My father stuttered. The woman besides him looked confident, her grin was plastered against her plastic face.

"Ma tisti7y etyeebha ehny!? Jidam Thari w Wath7a?!" My mother wasn't so gentle anymore, she screamed her words at my father, leaving me utterly shocked.

What? She wasn't shocked by his affair?

Did she know about this all along?!

"Yuma, shnu!?" I turned around to face my mother, my expression full of hurt. My mother faced me, noticing that I was suddenly here, hearing every word.

"Uhm. Thari.." My mother was speechless for a second.

"Kentay t3rfeen? About that wh*re?" I asked my mother, my voice barely heard.

"Thari kalem 3adel! Hathe murty!" My father yelled at me, his voice full of fury. He took a step towards me, ready to strike but my mother stood in front of me, protecting me.

Murt obouy? He had two wives all along? All this time? And he never told us?

And my mom knew about this?

"Wow." I breathed out, I felt 3 pairs of eyes on me. My mother's, father's and his "wife's". They were waiting for me to speak, to say something but I couldn't utter another word.

I was in absolute shock.

So first my sister created a blog to hate on me. And now this? I just got around to getting over the blog thing, why did this have to happen too?

And I just couldn't believe the fact that my own mother kept this from us for years. All I could think of now was my little sister, she would be devastated, even more than I was.

"Thari." My mother pleaded with her eyes, she was facing me again and she was trying to get to me. I tore my eyes away from her, I couldn't look at her. I understood she must have faced so much pain because of this but I would have helped her, if she only told me. I wasn't a kid anymore, I was a man.

"Don't tell Wath7a, or I'll leave this sh*tty house." I couldn't control my tongue or attitude. My father seemed even more angry, he opened his mouth to shout out a few more words at me but my mother held up a hand to silence him.

"6el3aw bara." My mother said in a stern voice, her eyes on my father and his second wife.

"Hatha baiti!" My father snapped at her.

"W al7een baiti ana b3ad." My father's wife purred in her snotty voice.

"Shrayik anady Wath7a b3ad Zaid?" My mother said in a pained voice, causing my father to take a step back. Wath7a was his youngest, he would always spoil her with gifts and she would always accept them with wide open arms. He stopped spoiling me once he understood that gifts couldn't change my hatred for him, so hurting Wath7a, was more important to him than hurting me or my own mother.

My father turned back around, leaving the house with his wife. She shot us a dirty look before following him out.

"Thari, wein raye7?!" My mother yelled after me when she noticed I was walking away from her.

"Far away from all of you." I yelled back at her, my voice full of pain. I shut the door of my room with a loud bang, muting all the words that escaped my mother's lips.

I couldn't handle any more lies, I didn't want to know why my father needed a second wife, I didn't want to know anything. I didn't feel a part of this family anymore, I didn't feel like I had a father or a mother that trusted me. And most of all, my pain went out for my little sister, who was still naive and innocent, thinking our family was as flawless as a picture perfect image.

I grabbed a duffel bag out of my wooden wardrobe, filling it with a bunch of random clothes. I dialed 3abbas's number as I was trying to stuff my Macbook into the grey duffel bag.

"Halla walla." 3abbas's voice joyfully cheered.

"3abbas, 3ade anam 3ndekom 7ag chem youm? Bel diwaneya?" I asked in an emotionless tone. He was one of my oldest friends and he understood that I only asked to stay over at his place when something was wrong.

"Ee akeed, 7ayak Allah. Ana al7een ga3d bl diwaneya wya Jarra7 ely yishtighl m3ak." 3abbas sounded a bit worried but he covered it up. He mentioned Jarra7 as a way to say "I'm not alone to ask you what's wrong."

"Mashkour." I said before hanging up on him. Before I left the house, I decided to check on Wath7a. I knocked on her door a couple of times, ever since she became a teenager, I couldn't just barge into her room.

"Come in!" She chirped normally. A wash of relief swam over me, she hadn't heard anything from the fight and she sounded just fine. I entered her bright room, my fingers grasping the duffel bag. I had a hoodie over my sleeveless shirt but I was too lazy to change out of my shorts, I didn't mind the chilly weather.

"Wein rayi7 Thari?" Wath7a's eyes were full of worry once she saw me, standing in her room.

"I'm going to stay at a friend's for a few days, guy stuff. Bas tabeen shay gabel ma arou7?" I always did this whenever I decided to leave the house for a few days and usually, Wath7a never asked why. She knew I wouldn't answer if she did.

"Last time you said that, you were gone for two weeks." Wath7a kept her head down, her fingers tick tacking against her blackberry keyboard.

I heaved a sigh, my confident posture drooping low. The last time I left, was when I had a huge fight with my Dad. It was over something so petty, he got annoyed that I kept leaving the house and I basically told him he had no right to even care when he barely was at our house.

"Hal mara, barid b3ad chem youm. Not one week, okay?" I dropped the duffel bag and sat besides my sister on her bed, wrapping an arm around her. She was so small besides me, she was a complete shorty, just like my mother. She had my mother's pure eyes, full of innocence and hints of sadness.

"Thari tara ana mu yahel, I know there's something wrong with Dad." Wath7a's words startled me. She might be a kid compared to me but she caught up pretty fast, this was the first time she ever spoke about our problems. She usually acts as if she didn't know anything, since we usually shut her out of everything.

"Entay al7een estansay, 6el3ay wya uhm, what's your friend's name?" I tried changing the subject, forcing my voice to be more playful.

"Tala." Wath7a laughed at me.

"Eee, Tala. I knew that." I grinned. "Yalla al7een lazem arou7."

"Okay." Wath7a's frowned, hugging my sides softly before letting me let go of her.

"Deeray balich 3la nafsich, okay? Walla ma ra7 a6awel hal mara." I promised her with a smile, my fingers holding onto the rough material of the duffel bag.

"Enshallah." Wath7a nodded, trying to be positive. I shut the door behind me gently and tried to hurry as fast as I could with leaving the house. This time, I used the back door to avoid my mother. A part of me regretted lashing out at her, when I knew how hard it was having to keep this secret.

But the other part of me, the bigger part, felt like a betrayed child.

I managed to steal my Dad's Ferrari keys, he barely used the car and so, I got the chance to drive it. When I was most bothered, the speed helped calm me down.

As I was driving, the tires gliding over the grey roads of Kuwait, I checked my twitter. I decided to start the conversation with Layal this time, I dmed her once again and said:

"@*****: Hey;p su2al, where can I get the yummiest cakes?"

I was being too obvious with this but I desperately wanted her to reply. Layal was my best distraction from everything. After 6 dreadful minutes, she replied with:

"@LayalAlX: There's so many places offh! Chocolate Bar will be the best place."

3abbas's house wasn't close to ours, so I used twitter to entertain myself as I drove.

"@*****: 9ej?:p 3yal 3a6eene el list."

This time, Layal replied faster.

"@LayalAlX: Mu men 9ijik! ::"

Smilies! This is getting better.

"@*****: Embala, yalla. :p"

"@LayalAlX: Fee shay esma google. Ever heard of it?"

"@*****: Unfortunately, no."

"@LayalAlX: Ask someone else. -.-"

"@*****: I want to ask you though?:p"

"@LayalAlX: Mm."

"@*****: M&ms wla Cadbury?"

Thari, you're so lame..

I rubbed the back of my neck, not believing how lame I had become. This time, my conscience was totally right.

I finally parked the car in front of 3abbas's house. It was large estate, with a huge stretch of land that surrounded the orange painted house. Trees were spritzed around and there was a bubbling fountain in the middle of their garden. The diwaneya was an orange building attached to the house and only had one floor, whereas the house had 2 floors.

I parked the car by the curb, right next to 3abbas's car before making my way to the diwaneya, my feet digging deep into the freshly cut grass. The scent of winter filled my nostrils, the wind hitting the back of my bare legs, making me shiver.

I finally got to the entrance of the diwaneya after passing the trees and flowers that 3abbas's mother loved to grow and tend to. His mother was half British, she was not the typical Kuwaiti mom at all.

"Ahlaain!" 3abbas cheered once I entered the warm diwaneya. Inside, there was a plasma TV with the PS3, Xbox and Wii attached to it. Multiple disks of DVDs and games were sprawled over the designed carpet. There were couches glued to the walls, the place was shaped in a square and 3abbas was sitting furthest away from the TV whilst Jarra7 was on the floor, his head glued to the TV, playing FIFA.

I greeted 3abbas and waved at Jarra7, he was too engrossed into his game.

"Shlounik?" 3abbas asked me in a quiet tone once I was sitting besides him, my duffel bag resting right besides me.

"El7amdellah zein, enta?" I asked casually, watching Jarra7 totally miss a goal in the game. He yelled out in defeat and continued playing.

"Tamam, sh9ayer Thari?" 3abbas nudged my shoulder, his dark eyes inspecting me. "Obouk?"

"Shay chithe." I didn't go into detail, I wanted to be vague. I wasn't ready to discuss what just happened, my father cared too much about our reputation and always reminded us never to tell anyone anything about our problems. We always had to be picture perfect in front of everyone but I wasn't scared to show our flaws to 3abbas, I trusted him the most and he was the only one who knew what happened in that imperfect house.

"Tell me about it when you feel like it." When 3abbas spoke English, he had a trace of a British accent that all the girls go all goo-goo over.

"Enshallah." I nodded, taking out my Samsung and checking twitter again. Layal replied to my message.

"@LayalAlX: LOL that actually made me laugh, surprisingly."

I liked a girl with humor.

"@******: Doum enshallah haha;p"

"@LayalAlX: Wyak. You kind of remind me of someone."

I was about to reply to her but then, I received another DM from a girl I didn't know.

"@BdourAlX: hey wayed 7abeit ur posts, leish shilt'hom:(?"

"@*******: Bs:p there will be a new story."

This girl looked familiar. I clicked on her avatar to see a close up of her. She had tanned skin and jet black hair that framed her heart shaped face. She wasn't smiling in the picture, she was looking to the left, with her iPhone in her hand. She looked distracted and someone must have taken the photo of her by accident, her nose was straight, thin lips and thickly mascara-ed eyes.

I checked her bio and I finally realised why she was so familiar. She went to the same university as me, she was in one of my classes.

She was also my old crush in high school, before I ever met Manal.

She looked so different, I didn't think that she'd be THAT Bdour. I was amused by the idea that she read my blog.

"@BdourAlX: oh ok:( tara wayed 7abeit shakh9eetik, mashallah 3leek;p"

Hmm. I left the DM and didn't reply to it, I showed 3abbas her picture.

"Remember her?" I asked 3abbas, his eyes glazed over her picture. He definitely liked what he saw.

"A77 hathe Bdour?! M7lwa mashallah!" 3abbas grinned.

"T9adig she goes to our university? She's in my calculus class." I said in an amazed voice, how couldn't I have spotted her before?

"Bel 9oura shekilha ghair, shift'ha chem mara gabel. Ehya g9eera w ma 3ndeha tan." 3abbas chuckled.

"Photoshop?" I rolled my eyes, mocking the girls these days.

"La2 la2, el9ara7a ehya a7la bel 9ej." 3abbas shrugged.

"Oh." I bite my lip, thinking for a second.

"Laish?" 3abbas gave me this look that said "are you interested in her?"

"La2 wla shay, bas ga3d as2al." I stared at her picture for a moment longer before replying to her message.

"@******: Shukran. :p"

She replied in an instant.

"@BdourAlX: enta 18 mu 9a7?:p which uni do u go to?"

"@******: Personal question. :p"

"@BdourAlX: yallaaa 3aaaaaad;p"

"@******: I go to yours."

"@BdourAlX: NO WAY! kel el 9bayan in our uni hailaag!:s"

"@*****: Y3ne ana hailag?:p Mashe Bdour."

"@BdourAlX: la2 la2 8a9dy I'm surprised u go to our uni, bas:p ma hageit a good guy like u would be here"

"@*****: Aha.. :p"

For Bdour, it was easy to act as if I was "thgeel", whereas with Layal.. it was a whole different story. I switched conversations and replied to Layal's message:

"@*******: Who do I remind you of?"

"3abbas, Mama Fadwa ask me to ask your friends what they want to eat." A kind petite housekeeper dressed in white walked in, her dark Somalia skin gave her a little glow.

"Taboun takloun shay?" 3abbas asked us whilst trying to adjust his casual A&F hoodie.

"La2 I just ate, thanks." I gave him a polite smile.

"Jarra7?" 3abbas asked. Jarra7 was too busy playing FIFA to reply.

"I guess he's not hungry either?" I said whilst chuckling.

"Thanks Ranny." 3abbas said to the housekeeper, giving her the cue to leave.

The little alert that came out of my Samsung ringed through my ears, indicating that I had a new DM on twitter.

I clicked on twitter again and read the following DM from Layal.

"@LayalAlX: You remind me of this guy I work with.. the descriptions in your blog, it's just like him. But unlike you, he's more of a total jerk."

Ouch.

I remembered how mean I was to her when my father angered me earlier today but for some reason, it still hurt to hear her say that.

I decided to ignore her DM for now, I couldn't muster up a reply to that. Bdour tried keeping our conversation alive and continued DMing me, by saying:

"@BdourAlX: what will it take to know who u are? I have a feeling I know u.."

"*****: I'm anonymous."

"@BdourAlX: please? I'll do anything.."

Anything?