“Logic will get you from A to Z; imagination will get you everywhere.”
― Albert Einstein
*Note: my stories aren't true, they are all purely fiction. I had to say it again because one of my readers thought this story was true. I'm not anonymous. And I am also not 18, I turned 16 recently (24/07/1996) and yes I go to a university, British system allows you to graduate in Year 11, plus I went to high school earlier than everyone, hence why I am so young and already in my first year at uni. This is so I don't need to answer this question again and again.
Thank you @DanahAO & @ReemaAlSheikh for the help!:*
-
"She uses an iPhone right?" 3abbas asked me, as his leg lazily drooped over under him, on his canopy bed. I stood right besides him, my eyes looming over his laptop and gadgets. 3abbas was always the tech nerd in the group, even though his appearance always gave him the stereotypical jock title, the one who looks all buff and big yet has no brain, 3abbas was the exact opposite of that stereotype.
"Yeah but it's switched off, how can you track her?" I scratched the back of my head nervously, scared that 3abbas would tell me he couldn't do it. He tracked down his sister Hessa last year when she supposedly "ran away" to create some statement to her parents. That was when she was 16 years old, she was reckless, still is and always made sure she got what she wanted. If her parents said no, she'd do something crazy, which for her, was running away last year. Too bad her brother was a tech freak, he tracked her down in the next hour. She was in the local supermarket, shopping to waste time.
"I have my ways, be patient." 3abbas grinned, his hands effortlessly typing in such a fast pace over his Mac laptop keyboard. He had another HP laptop next to it, already open and running. I couldn't understand what he was doing, he had loads of browsers open at once, as well as the Appstore on his Mac laptop.
"Shnu ra8amha?" He asked whilst biting his bottom lip, too engrossed into his plan.
"99231***," I answered. He typed the number in, the tick tacking of the keyboards filling my ears. I pulled 3abbas's black sponge-y chair, sitting right onto it, watching 3abbas work. His room squarely shaped with a hang on TV screen, a ps3 laying around on the dark maroon carpet, the curtains were drawn apart and we had the view of the deserted street in front of his house.
"Found her." 3abbas's grin grew wider.
"What?! Where?!" I jolted out of my seat, standing over him once again.
"Here's the address, uhm.." 3abbas looked hesitant to give me the address.
"Shnu ohwa?" I impatiently asked. He turned his laptop around so I could see the screen. I squinted at the bright blare for a second before my eyes adjusted to the brightness. I read the following address, of a house in Surra (a 'man6aqa'/'city' in Kuwait). A house I didn't know.
"Yalla khan rou7!" I suddenly exclaimed, ready to find my mom.
"Hey hey, ma ra7 negder enrou7 al7een." 3abbas killed my excitement.
"Laish?" I huffed.
"It's nearly 11pm, it's too late. Ma en3arif mnu sakin bel bait, 3aib. Enrou7 bacher el'9uher." 3abbas was more realistic than I was.
"Lazem?" I sighed. "It's my mom."
"We can track again tomorrow to check if she left, be patient." 3abbas shook his head.
"Okay okay." I agreed. "Mashkour 3abbas, walla ta3abtik."
"Shd3wa Bo Zaid," 3abbas gave me another one of his wide easy grins.
"Yalla ana bamshy, tamr 3la shay?" I felt more at peace now, at least I knew where Mom was. There was still the fact that I'm probably going to have a little sister or a little brother who was half related to me in 8 months but it wasn't all that bad, right? I was trying to be positive, but the fact that my Dad just became a bigger a**hole lately and his wife has been pestering my sister, trying to replace my mother, wasn't going to change. Positivity wasn't exactly going to change that fact.
El7amdellah 3la kl 7al, I thought to myself. At least I still had clothes on me and a home I could sleep in. If Dad didn't kick me out again, that is.
"Salamtk yal 7beeb." 3abbas said before I left his room. 3abbas's house only had one floor but they had a wide spread of land that the house and diwaneya were built on, so they didn't need an extra floor. There were vases that held different kinds of 3abbas's mother's hand picked flowers everywhere, it gave the whole house a very rosy scent. I was walking down the hallway, past the doors of the rooms in the house, at the end of the hallway, was there entrance door, near it was a another hallway leading you to the large living room. I was holding onto my car keys whilst I left the house, walking past the garden and to where the parking area was.
"Mohammed, I'm standing outside right now, you can't see me? I gave you the address, you brought me to this house more than two times already. No no, I'm telling you, you're at the wrong house because I can't see you or the car anywhere. Mohammed I didn't go to a different house, it's the same house, Hessa Al-X's house!" It was a familiar voice. I stared right in front of me. It was Layal's back, standing a few feet away. I could see her more clearly now, she had a dark denim jeans that were being hugged by a pair of long brown boots, a loosely tied red scarf was flowing around in the wind behind her. She was too busy on the phone, probably talking to her driver, to notice me or notice that her scarf was about to fly away.
"Mohammed, the house is wide with a garden and a diwaneya, it's house number 32." Layal sighed impatiently, her boot tapping over the concrete floor. Soon enough, her scarf swirled around once more before leaving her covered neck, flying towards me and the next thing I knew, all I could see or feel was a huge red see through material, trying to stuff itself into my face.
I grabbed the scarf, taking it off of my face. I was expecting Layal to notice me standing behind her by now but she was still on the phone.
"No no, it is not a pink house Mohammed, and it does not have flags of Spain and Lebanon on the roof. Where the hell did you drive to?" Layal kept on talking into the phone, her beige turtle neck that was accompanied by a puffy vest now naked of a scarf.
"E7m." I coughed, my deep voice startling her. She turned around quickly, her face fearful for a second, but then her expression turned to recognition once she saw me and my grin.
"Oh Thari, khara3tny." She sighed and suddenly turned her attention back to her phone. "No no Mohammad, I know you don't understand Arabic, I wasn't talking to you."
"Layal," I tried to hold back a laugh, watching her being so annoyed amused me.
"What do you mean Mahboub? It's Layal on the phone, hello? Mohammed? Hello?" Layal continued on, staring at her phone in shock. I was guessing her driver hung up on her.
"Layal." I said again, but this time I was chuckling, I couldn't keep the laugh in any longer.
"Thari ma yi'9a7ik," Layal sighed but she had a smile playing on her lips.
"Mahboub? Mnu Mahboub?" I laughed even harder.
"Madre 3ana, faj2a ga3d yisolif bil Hindi w ga3d yigouly 'Mahboub'," Layal laughed along, her laugh was enjoyable to listen to.
"Al7een Layal, your scarf?" I was holding her scarf behind my back.
"Umbay my scarf, weina?!" Layal suddenly started looking around her, her hands grasping her neck, finally noticing that her scarf was gone. I got a good look of her face this time, she had more make up on than last time, thicker eyeliner and nude lips that showed off how plump they were.
"This?" I finally pulled her scarf from my back and let it wave around with the movement of the wind, but I was grasping the material to stop it from flying away again.
"Enta makhtha?" Layal crossed her arms over her chest, her alerted face melting away once she saw my mischievous smile and her scarf in my hand.
"It flew away when you were on the phone," I chuckled again.
"How long were you standing there?" Layal cocked an arched eyebrow. She didn't seem so shy anymore and I liked the confident Layal, even though the shy awkward one was cute too, but she didn't manage to talk that much or carry a conversation when she was shy.
"Not that long yal Mahboub," I took a step forward, seeing her smile close-up. I stretched my arms over her shoulders, wrapping the scarf around her neck, careful to make sure I didn't touch her, only the scarf did. She watched me silently, she seemed surprised and I was too fast, I knotted the scarf and quickly took a step back before she could word a protest. I caught a whiff of her vanilla scented perfume, making me want to take a step closer once again but I fought the urge to, I knew if I did it again she'd probably stop me or take a step back.
At the same time, Layal's iPhone started to ring. She answered it without hesitation, taking the sudden interruption with wide open arms.
"Mohammed? You're here? Great! Oh, the backdoor? Okay I'm coming." Layal said, her face full of relief. She hung up and looked up at me once again, I suddenly noticed how short she was compared to my tall height.
"Wi9al?" I asked, trying to break the silence between us. Layal's cheeks, as well as her nose, were turning a bit red. I knew the nose redness was because of the cold weather but the cheeks? Hmm, was it the scarf thing? I knew for a fact she was shy again, she seemed more quiet and closed off from before. I always wonder what goes through her mind.
"Eee." She quietly answered, making this a cue for her to leave.
"Layal, bas2lch so2al bas abeech etjawbeeny." I honestly said.
"It depends on the question," She replied hesitantly.
"So you won't answer?"
"Giltlk, it depends." She shrugged, lowering her light eyes to the ground, unable to meet my gaze.
"Are you hiding something from me?" I teased.
"Is that the question?" Layal bit the inside of her cheek.
"La2, there's another one too, bas ma jawabtay." I grinned.
"Everyone has secrets," Layal stated, avoiding my question.
"I told you mine when I was just an anonymous blogger to you," I reminded her.
"Al7een shnu el su2al?" Layal finally looked up and met my gaze, her cool eyes staring into my dull dark ones.
"When we were messaging on twitter, you told me someone was a jerk to you in work," her face quickly flushed deep red, she probably knew where I was going with this. "And... you told me you liked him too, was it really me? Do you actually like me in that way?"
Layal's iPhone began to ring again. Her phone started to annoy me, it had the worst timings. Honestly.
"Mohammed? Yes yes I'm coming walla, I just er, forgot something and had to go back." She lied, she quickly passed me and didn't look back. I watched her walk off, without answering my question. I was astonished.
My shoulders slumped a bit as I walked to my car, not having an answer to a question that was really important to me. I wasn't stupid, there were hints here and there but I still wanted to hear it from her. No more hints, just the plain truth.
I pushed the my car keys into the ignition once I was in the sleek Range Rover, before I twisted the key to start the engine, I heard the familiar "beep!" that told me I had a new notification on Twitter. I puleld my Galaxy out of my pocket, clicked over Twitter and clicked over the "direct message" button.
I read the following new message, that also caused my smile from ear to ear.
"@LayalAlX: Yeah, it was you. I mean, yeah you seemed like a jerk at first but then I was wrong. I was talking about you all along when we were messaging. I like you Thari. Please la etfashilny aw shay whenever we see each other next, okay?:p I answered your question, happy?"
― Albert Einstein
*Note: my stories aren't true, they are all purely fiction. I had to say it again because one of my readers thought this story was true. I'm not anonymous. And I am also not 18, I turned 16 recently (24/07/1996) and yes I go to a university, British system allows you to graduate in Year 11, plus I went to high school earlier than everyone, hence why I am so young and already in my first year at uni. This is so I don't need to answer this question again and again.
Thank you @DanahAO & @ReemaAlSheikh for the help!:*
-
"She uses an iPhone right?" 3abbas asked me, as his leg lazily drooped over under him, on his canopy bed. I stood right besides him, my eyes looming over his laptop and gadgets. 3abbas was always the tech nerd in the group, even though his appearance always gave him the stereotypical jock title, the one who looks all buff and big yet has no brain, 3abbas was the exact opposite of that stereotype.
"Yeah but it's switched off, how can you track her?" I scratched the back of my head nervously, scared that 3abbas would tell me he couldn't do it. He tracked down his sister Hessa last year when she supposedly "ran away" to create some statement to her parents. That was when she was 16 years old, she was reckless, still is and always made sure she got what she wanted. If her parents said no, she'd do something crazy, which for her, was running away last year. Too bad her brother was a tech freak, he tracked her down in the next hour. She was in the local supermarket, shopping to waste time.
"I have my ways, be patient." 3abbas grinned, his hands effortlessly typing in such a fast pace over his Mac laptop keyboard. He had another HP laptop next to it, already open and running. I couldn't understand what he was doing, he had loads of browsers open at once, as well as the Appstore on his Mac laptop.
"Shnu ra8amha?" He asked whilst biting his bottom lip, too engrossed into his plan.
"99231***," I answered. He typed the number in, the tick tacking of the keyboards filling my ears. I pulled 3abbas's black sponge-y chair, sitting right onto it, watching 3abbas work. His room squarely shaped with a hang on TV screen, a ps3 laying around on the dark maroon carpet, the curtains were drawn apart and we had the view of the deserted street in front of his house.
"Found her." 3abbas's grin grew wider.
"What?! Where?!" I jolted out of my seat, standing over him once again.
"Here's the address, uhm.." 3abbas looked hesitant to give me the address.
"Shnu ohwa?" I impatiently asked. He turned his laptop around so I could see the screen. I squinted at the bright blare for a second before my eyes adjusted to the brightness. I read the following address, of a house in Surra (a 'man6aqa'/'city' in Kuwait). A house I didn't know.
"Yalla khan rou7!" I suddenly exclaimed, ready to find my mom.
"Hey hey, ma ra7 negder enrou7 al7een." 3abbas killed my excitement.
"Laish?" I huffed.
"It's nearly 11pm, it's too late. Ma en3arif mnu sakin bel bait, 3aib. Enrou7 bacher el'9uher." 3abbas was more realistic than I was.
"Lazem?" I sighed. "It's my mom."
"We can track again tomorrow to check if she left, be patient." 3abbas shook his head.
"Okay okay." I agreed. "Mashkour 3abbas, walla ta3abtik."
"Shd3wa Bo Zaid," 3abbas gave me another one of his wide easy grins.
"Yalla ana bamshy, tamr 3la shay?" I felt more at peace now, at least I knew where Mom was. There was still the fact that I'm probably going to have a little sister or a little brother who was half related to me in 8 months but it wasn't all that bad, right? I was trying to be positive, but the fact that my Dad just became a bigger a**hole lately and his wife has been pestering my sister, trying to replace my mother, wasn't going to change. Positivity wasn't exactly going to change that fact.
El7amdellah 3la kl 7al, I thought to myself. At least I still had clothes on me and a home I could sleep in. If Dad didn't kick me out again, that is.
"Salamtk yal 7beeb." 3abbas said before I left his room. 3abbas's house only had one floor but they had a wide spread of land that the house and diwaneya were built on, so they didn't need an extra floor. There were vases that held different kinds of 3abbas's mother's hand picked flowers everywhere, it gave the whole house a very rosy scent. I was walking down the hallway, past the doors of the rooms in the house, at the end of the hallway, was there entrance door, near it was a another hallway leading you to the large living room. I was holding onto my car keys whilst I left the house, walking past the garden and to where the parking area was.
"Mohammed, I'm standing outside right now, you can't see me? I gave you the address, you brought me to this house more than two times already. No no, I'm telling you, you're at the wrong house because I can't see you or the car anywhere. Mohammed I didn't go to a different house, it's the same house, Hessa Al-X's house!" It was a familiar voice. I stared right in front of me. It was Layal's back, standing a few feet away. I could see her more clearly now, she had a dark denim jeans that were being hugged by a pair of long brown boots, a loosely tied red scarf was flowing around in the wind behind her. She was too busy on the phone, probably talking to her driver, to notice me or notice that her scarf was about to fly away.
"Mohammed, the house is wide with a garden and a diwaneya, it's house number 32." Layal sighed impatiently, her boot tapping over the concrete floor. Soon enough, her scarf swirled around once more before leaving her covered neck, flying towards me and the next thing I knew, all I could see or feel was a huge red see through material, trying to stuff itself into my face.
I grabbed the scarf, taking it off of my face. I was expecting Layal to notice me standing behind her by now but she was still on the phone.
"No no, it is not a pink house Mohammed, and it does not have flags of Spain and Lebanon on the roof. Where the hell did you drive to?" Layal kept on talking into the phone, her beige turtle neck that was accompanied by a puffy vest now naked of a scarf.
"E7m." I coughed, my deep voice startling her. She turned around quickly, her face fearful for a second, but then her expression turned to recognition once she saw me and my grin.
"Oh Thari, khara3tny." She sighed and suddenly turned her attention back to her phone. "No no Mohammad, I know you don't understand Arabic, I wasn't talking to you."
"Layal," I tried to hold back a laugh, watching her being so annoyed amused me.
"What do you mean Mahboub? It's Layal on the phone, hello? Mohammed? Hello?" Layal continued on, staring at her phone in shock. I was guessing her driver hung up on her.
"Layal." I said again, but this time I was chuckling, I couldn't keep the laugh in any longer.
"Thari ma yi'9a7ik," Layal sighed but she had a smile playing on her lips.
"Mahboub? Mnu Mahboub?" I laughed even harder.
"Madre 3ana, faj2a ga3d yisolif bil Hindi w ga3d yigouly 'Mahboub'," Layal laughed along, her laugh was enjoyable to listen to.
"Al7een Layal, your scarf?" I was holding her scarf behind my back.
"Umbay my scarf, weina?!" Layal suddenly started looking around her, her hands grasping her neck, finally noticing that her scarf was gone. I got a good look of her face this time, she had more make up on than last time, thicker eyeliner and nude lips that showed off how plump they were.
"This?" I finally pulled her scarf from my back and let it wave around with the movement of the wind, but I was grasping the material to stop it from flying away again.
"Enta makhtha?" Layal crossed her arms over her chest, her alerted face melting away once she saw my mischievous smile and her scarf in my hand.
"It flew away when you were on the phone," I chuckled again.
"How long were you standing there?" Layal cocked an arched eyebrow. She didn't seem so shy anymore and I liked the confident Layal, even though the shy awkward one was cute too, but she didn't manage to talk that much or carry a conversation when she was shy.
"Not that long yal Mahboub," I took a step forward, seeing her smile close-up. I stretched my arms over her shoulders, wrapping the scarf around her neck, careful to make sure I didn't touch her, only the scarf did. She watched me silently, she seemed surprised and I was too fast, I knotted the scarf and quickly took a step back before she could word a protest. I caught a whiff of her vanilla scented perfume, making me want to take a step closer once again but I fought the urge to, I knew if I did it again she'd probably stop me or take a step back.
At the same time, Layal's iPhone started to ring. She answered it without hesitation, taking the sudden interruption with wide open arms.
"Mohammed? You're here? Great! Oh, the backdoor? Okay I'm coming." Layal said, her face full of relief. She hung up and looked up at me once again, I suddenly noticed how short she was compared to my tall height.
"Wi9al?" I asked, trying to break the silence between us. Layal's cheeks, as well as her nose, were turning a bit red. I knew the nose redness was because of the cold weather but the cheeks? Hmm, was it the scarf thing? I knew for a fact she was shy again, she seemed more quiet and closed off from before. I always wonder what goes through her mind.
"Eee." She quietly answered, making this a cue for her to leave.
"Layal, bas2lch so2al bas abeech etjawbeeny." I honestly said.
"It depends on the question," She replied hesitantly.
"So you won't answer?"
"Giltlk, it depends." She shrugged, lowering her light eyes to the ground, unable to meet my gaze.
"Are you hiding something from me?" I teased.
"Is that the question?" Layal bit the inside of her cheek.
"La2, there's another one too, bas ma jawabtay." I grinned.
"Everyone has secrets," Layal stated, avoiding my question.
"I told you mine when I was just an anonymous blogger to you," I reminded her.
"Al7een shnu el su2al?" Layal finally looked up and met my gaze, her cool eyes staring into my dull dark ones.
"When we were messaging on twitter, you told me someone was a jerk to you in work," her face quickly flushed deep red, she probably knew where I was going with this. "And... you told me you liked him too, was it really me? Do you actually like me in that way?"
Layal's iPhone began to ring again. Her phone started to annoy me, it had the worst timings. Honestly.
"Mohammed? Yes yes I'm coming walla, I just er, forgot something and had to go back." She lied, she quickly passed me and didn't look back. I watched her walk off, without answering my question. I was astonished.
My shoulders slumped a bit as I walked to my car, not having an answer to a question that was really important to me. I wasn't stupid, there were hints here and there but I still wanted to hear it from her. No more hints, just the plain truth.
I pushed the my car keys into the ignition once I was in the sleek Range Rover, before I twisted the key to start the engine, I heard the familiar "beep!" that told me I had a new notification on Twitter. I puleld my Galaxy out of my pocket, clicked over Twitter and clicked over the "direct message" button.
I read the following new message, that also caused my smile from ear to ear.
"@LayalAlX: Yeah, it was you. I mean, yeah you seemed like a jerk at first but then I was wrong. I was talking about you all along when we were messaging. I like you Thari. Please la etfashilny aw shay whenever we see each other next, okay?:p I answered your question, happy?"
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