Walls Chapter 3

Hey, sorry 6awelt. I started the story at the wrong time but I so don't regret doing that. I have finals starting Saturday morning and so this has been the busiest past few weeks.

But that won't mean I won't find time to post.

Hope you guys enjoy this, enshallah akhale9 men emt7nat at Janruary 5 w my holiday will start before the next uni course.

-

Previously in Chapter 2:

“No, sorry, Yasmine in New York, not in Kuwait.”

What?

“No I don’t have her New York number, call her mama, okay thank you yes I will tell her, bye.”

“Hannah!” I yelled from my room and my voice echoed through the empty house.

“YES?” She yelled back.

“WHO CALLED?” I yelled back.

“NO ONE, WRONG NUMBER YASMINE, GO BED OR I TELL MAMA.” She yelled back and I heard the click clacks of her shoes, clearly not going to answer me if I yelled once more.

What the heck was that about? Why is she telling people that I’m in NYC when I’m obviously stuck here, too fragile to go back to university?

-

I scurried around the room, trying to think of an explanation to this whole charade but nothing came to mind. I had to confront Hannah. I hurried downstairs and found her in the kitchen, her back facing me.

“Hannah, what was that all about?” I asked, staring at the squared patterns over her perfectly ironed uniform. She ignored me and continued washing the dishes.

“Hannah!” I snapped at her. She finally turned around to face me, the wrinkles in her skin began to form as she looked at me with an annoyed expression on her face.

“What?”

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“I will ask mama if you won’t tell me.”

“If you ask her I will tell her you left the house today,” Hannah snapped back at me.

“What the hell? I’m not a kid for you to threaten me, tara 3ade agouleha,” I threatened her back but I hoped she wouldn’t catch me in my own bluff.

“Okay tell her then we will see,” she shot her eyebrows up, obviously catching me bluffing.

“Ugh!” I rolled my eyes at her and hurried back up to my room, dismissing the idea.

The next best idea I had was to call Abdullah. He was the only one who knew about my position and maybe he could help me out.

“Ahlain,” his voice seemed deeper over the phone and very familiar, as if my ears were used to the rhythms of his voice.

“Abdullah, I need your help,” I ignored the voices of people that I heard from his end of the line; it was obvious he was still at Starbucks.

“Shfeech, sh9ayer?” He suddenly sounded worried.

“They’re saying I’m still in New York, no one knows I’m back in Kuwait, that must be why I’m not allowed to leave the house,” I sighed.

“Offh laish kel hatha 3ad?”

“Madre! Ely teshtighl 3ndena, Hannah, mu rathya etgouly shl salfa. As2al omy? M3ana etha s2lt’ha, Hannah betgouleha ena 6l3t men el bait, fthee7a hathe,” I groaned, clenching my hands into fists.

“La la ts2leen omch!” Abdullah suddenly snapped at me.

“Ha.. laish?” I was staring at the light green blanket over my plain white bed in confusion.

“Ma tabeen meshakl m3a omch,” he muttered. “Khala9 ana asa3dch, gltlch khalech m3ay, don’t trust anyone else.”

“Laish…” I mumbled.

“Khayef 3laich.”

“Abdullah a7s fee shay…”I let my words fade out of my mouth, not continuing my sentence. I felt like he was hiding something from me, I knew the friendship was true, I felt in my bones, my body, every part of me felt that he was a familiar person, someone I was comfortable with but I simply didn’t have the memories in my mind to know why.

“Shnu?” I heard the voices around him become quieter. I heard him move around, as if he walking, leaving the café. “Ma seme3t shay, goulay mara thanya?”

“Shnu, 6l3t men Starbucks?”

“Eee, za7ma wayed w qathga, ma gedert asma3 shay. Kamlay?”

“A7s you’re hiding something away from me.”

“Laish tafkeerch chithe?” He suddenly got angry.

“Abdullah mu qa9de-“

“Al7een ana ga3d asa3dch w faj2a you stopped trusting me?” Abdullah’s voice grew tense.

“Abdullah give me a break, how can I trust you fully, I’ve just told you what happened today!”

“Then why are you calling me if you don’t trust me?”

“I trusted you with enough for you to trust that my question wasn’t to offend you,” I sighed. “Had shway.”

“Mu khash 3anch shay, enzain?” He snapped at me. “Chem mara lazem agoulch hal shay?”

“Chem mara? Huh? Meta gltly hal shay asasan? Abdullah shfeek ga3d tensa, I have amnesia!” I grew even more confused by the minute, what was he talking about, what did I do to make him so angry?

“Bas khala9 wela shay, asif,” he forced himself to calm down, he was silent for a few minutes, as if he was trying to relive a few memories I couldn’t remember.

“Abdullah, sh9ayer?”

“Wela shay khala9, enzain al7een taben shay? Lazem amshy.”

“Abdullah wait-“

“Yousef w Basel na6rene, lazem amshe.”

I sighed once again.

“Okay khala9, mshkour, bye.”

Click, he hung up without a mutter of a word.

And I was back to fighting my own battles alone.

-

A whole week had passed by; Abdullah didn’t message me or call, not even once. My mother stayed home, she stopped visiting my Gran’s and after that, I knew for sure that Hannah had told her about me sneaking out. I was trapped in the house and I had no one’s number, not any of the girls or any other guy friends I possibly had met in the past nine months and had no idea about.

The pains I got were recurring, they weren’t getting better and none of my memories came back. I didn’t have any dreams; none at all and no flashbacks, or any of those things I’ve read about and watched in movies. I was definitely a hopeless case.

“Yasmine, aklch berad.” My mom’s voice crushed my thoughts, bringing me back to the reality of the peach painted walls of our dining room.

I stared at the lasagna in front of me, lately all I’ve been craving is coffee, and I’ve lost the love and need for food.

“Wayed tha3eftay 3an gabl, mu zain 7beebty lazem takleen 3yal shloun bet9eren qaweya?” Mom looked at me with worried eyes. Dad was at the office, as usual and I suddenly grew guilty for making me mom worry.

“Enshallah,” I nodded, whenever she spoke to me, I would feel like a five year old again, not the nineteen-year-old Yasmine. I forced a spoon of cold lasagna into my mouth and winced slightly as a sharp pain filled my head. The pain was getting worse but I didn’t mention it to my mom. I kept quiet.

“Elyoum barou7 eljam3ya w b3dain bait yadetch bag3ad 3ndeha shway, Hannah betcheyk 3laich enzain? La tensain takhthen 7boubch elsa3a 10 belail ba3d el3asha,” Mom pushed her plate away, clearly finished with her food. She had her hair up in a loose bun, her grey hairs were peeking out of the bun and her wrinkled eyes were already rimmed in black eyeliner, it was her signature make-up, she always wore black eyeliner but nothing else touched her face. She had been wearing the same exact eyeliner for the past fifteen years, if not more.

“Okay,” I nodded, plotting a plan in my head to escape the house already. She left the dining room to change into a light cardigan matched with a long summer dress that was long enough to cover her knees.

I stayed in my seat, playing with my lasagna until I watched her pass by, looking for her Dior purse before leaving the house.

Once I heard the sound of BMW fade off into the air, I hurried upstairs and did the following:

1)   Stuff pillows under my bed to create a body form.

2)   Change into my true religion jeans and a tucked in plain shirt.

3)   Comb my hair and hide my scars with foundation.

Next was simple. I pushed my head out of my room and yelled.

“HANNAH!”

“YES?” She yelled back from downstairs.

I checked the time.

1:43 pm.

“I WILL TAKE A NAP, I’M SO TIRED, DON’T WAKE ME UP UNTIL 9PM FOR DINNER!” I yelled.

“OKAY FINE!”

I shut the door and locked it. Next, I stared at my window.

“Okay Yasmine, you can do this,” I breathed out, talking to myself. We had plants attached to the walls of our house to decorate it, I also remember using it for climbing when I was a kid.

Now I’m a woman, I was too heavy, I could destroy the plants and end up falling but I was going to risk it.

I strapped my Chanel purse around my body, pushed my long auburn hair out of my face and began to climb out of the window. I stuck my fingers against the wall, attaching my foot on the plants that I used as a ladder, I slowly began to climb down, the plants were sharp and it began to slice into my skin but I ignored it and kept on climbing down as fast as I could, before I could de-attach them from the wall because of my weight.

I finally reached down to the garden without falling; I licked the bloody wounds off my fingers, tasting the sweet blood on my tongue.

The Range was parked at the back, away from the front windows of our house, which was perfect. I climbed in and drove silently out of the parking area of our house, practically racing down the road as fast as I could once I left.

“Akheeran!” I breathed out in relief as I slid the windows of the Range down, feeling the cold wind slap my rosy cheeks.

Al7een wain arou7? I asked myself, driving aimlessly around.

Starbucks? La2.

Jam3ya? Wai3 shasawe ehnak?

Avenues? La2, your card notifies your parents whenever you buy something. They’ll know you stuck out w bas 3ndch 20KD, ma yikafy.

I had no choice but to cruise around aimlessly just to calm my mind.

After thirty minutes, the familiar ringtone of my iPhone began to gnaw at my ears. I looked down and read the following:

Abdullah Al-X is calling.

Accept? Decline?

I let it ring for another few seconds before answering.

“Entay shmsewya et7ouseen eb Yarmouk?” His voice comforted me.

“La7tha.. shdarak ana eb Yarmouk?”

“Lefay bas,” he smirked.

I turned around in my seat once I was at a traffic light stop and saw Abdullah in his Audi R8, his head was peeking out of the window and he ignored the cars behind us that were filled with Kuwaitis, staring.

“Mumkn net3araf?” He yelled out, giving me a grin.

“La2,” I laughed.

“Bas entay gumar,” he gave me a wink, knowing that the cars behind us were watching.

“Adre,” I replied.

“Fdait el theqa ana, yalla 3ad shnu raqmch?”

“6ale3 telephonk awal,” I answered. He dug his hand into his beige shorts, pulling out his iPhone.

“Eee, okay?” his eyes met mine from afar, waiting for me to continue the charade.

“1 888 333.”

“Yal 3ayara, hatha raqam Hardees mu raqmch!” Abdullah laughed.

“Ee e6lbly wa7d chicken fillet.”

“3yal shnu 3nwankom, ayeeblch chicken fillet w akh6bch mara w7da.”

“La2 mashkour, bas abe el chicken fillet.”

“Mu tars 3ainch ana?”

“Wayed jaiker,” I rolled my eyes at him.

The lights in front of me turned yellow.

“Yalla 3ad gabel ma namshe!” Abdullah yelled and I saw that he was trying not to laugh; the people behind us had their windows down, listening to every word.

“No thanks,” I laughed and once the lights turned green, I drove straight as fast as I could. I could see Abdullah tailing me, following me as fast as he could, racing right next to me.

“Hey hey, slow down Yasmine!” He yelled out from his car, this time not joking anymore. I found the speed accelerating and I stubbornly kept on speeding, ignoring Abdullah.

“YASMINE!” He yelled out, sounding angry, he was speeding right next to me. I turned to look at him and lost the sight of what was in front of me.

It only took exactly one second.

One exact second to replay the events of my whole crash, the second time.

“YASMINE!”

Was the last thing I heard before everything went all black, yet again.

But this time, once the blackness wrapped around me, light soon blinded my eyes and the memories of the crash that caused me to get amnesia played back in my head.

The memory hit me right at once.

And finally, I remembered..

-

Please don't forget to comment down below and tell me what you think. :D I read all of them, thank you guys SO much! xx

Walls Chapter 2

I'm just excited for a new story and so many ideas springing in and out of my head, so why not write a second chapter on the same day?

Hope you guys enjoy the twists and turns in the story.

Tell me what you think by commenting down below!

-

Previously in Chapter 1:

The times I used Foursquare to check in at Starbucks were the times I bumped into him.

Could it be that it never was a coincidence with bumping into him?

Before I could dwell more onto the subject, I was grabbed from behind then pushed suddenly to the ground hitting the side of my head hard.

Everything after that was completely black.

-

“You have a severe case of amnesia.”

“You only remember the events that happened 9 months ago.”

“You must rest for a few weeks in the hospital.”

“You’ll be dispatched next week.”

“Do not use any forms of communication with anyone yet, your case is very sensitive.”

“You cannot remember anything.”

“Your name is Yasmine Al-X, remember that?”

“You are 19 years old.”

“You were in a car accident, the man who crashed into your car is missing.”

“It’s been a week. The man is still missing.”

The words were played over and over back in my head, the words I listened to for the past month in the hospital bed and even in the comfort of my own bed once I was back home.

But I couldn’t understand the pain I felt from reading the text message on my phone that was sent five days ago. I had the feelings. I felt the pain. I had hints of what I felt for this person but I had no memory of the events that followed.

No memory of the man. I had a memory of someone pushing me from behind. Who was he? Was there an actual man behind me at that time? Didn’t they say those memories were from nine months ago?

What the heck was going on? I only had snippets of my memories; everything else was in a mess.

I read the message once again; there was no name though. Just a number. I was blocked though, I couldn’t reply or call back so how else would I know whom it was? True caller didn’t help, there was a fake input as a name for the number, I know this because it was “LOLOLOL”.

I read the message again:

“Ma et3rft 3la w7da aw9akh mench, mabe akelmch, ya wailch etha dageitay 3lay aw kalemteeny mara thanya, ma a3rfch wela et3rfeeny, fahma?!”

The pangs of pain hit me. It felt too real but I had no idea what it was.

“Yasmine, shlounch 7beebty?” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She walked into the white painted walls of my room with a tray with tea and my medication.

“El7mdellah,” I gave her a warm smile. “Mashkoura yumma.”

“Kaa sherbeelch chai w b3dain ekhthay 7boubch okay?”

“Enshallah.”

It was the routine; mom would come in with tea and pills every morning and I would be stuck in my room. I wasn’t allowed to leave, I wasn’t allowed to ask questions, they believed I was still very sensitive and needed time to process the fact that I had amnesia before I would try to fit the pieces to the puzzle back together.

But I grew sick and tired of it. I needed answers, I was a mess, I had snippets and I wanted the whole solved puzzle.

All I could do was sneak out. Mom would leave to visit Gran’s at 5pm and come back by 9pm, I had no brothers or sisters, and my father was always in the office so it was perfect.

I changed into fitted jeans and a shirt, combed my hair back into a ponytail and dabbed foundation over my scars from the car crash. Big Tiffany sunglasses helped hide my sickly looking face and just like that, I took the Range Rover and drove out of the house, driving around aimlessly.

I lost 9 months of memories but I didn’t lose my way around Kuwait.

I parked outside of Starbucks Nuzha. It was a Thursday, it was crowded and I felt very out of place but it was the closest place for coffee. My tongue craved it, ached for the taste of coffee and I knew that I shouldn’t have any but I needed it.

“One vanilla iced shaken please? With ice.” I ordered once it was my turn, ignoring the stares of the typical Kuwaitis that surrounded me.

“Okay ma’am, don’t you want a croissant with that?” The Filipino flashed me a crooked smile, I warmly smiled back but it gave me a headache to simply use my facial muscles. I was covered in bruises and the outfit I was wearing was failing to cover it. I knew the stares were because of the bruises.

“No thanks,” I paid and waited by the counter, hugging my arms to my chest, suddenly feeling naked under the stares. I still felt very lost, invisible but the stares proved me otherwise.

“Can’t get away from coffee for too long?” That familiar voice again, the memory of the voice hadn’t left me either. I knew it was him.

“Jassim,” I breathed, meeting his coffee coloured eyes.

“I heard about the crash, are you okay?” He ignored the stares of the people around us and spoke to me freely, publicly. I found it astonishing, still.

“Yeah,” I looked at him, confused. There was a 9 month gap between us, I could only remember the times we had in high school and the times we reunited, I had no idea what had happened between us in those 9 months. I assumed the message was from him, I assumed the feelings were for him, wasn’t it?

“Yalla I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, ma etshoufeen shar enshallah,” he gave me a polite smile whilst holding his coffee and walked away, towards a table where his friends were sitting. He didn’t bother with stirring up a conversation with me or anything, which I found very weird.

“Oh okay,” I muttered to myself, feeling alone all over again.

“YASMEEN, ONE VANILLA ICED SHAKEN,” they called out my name and I hurried to grab my drink to escape the claustrophobic environment of the café.

“Halla belzain,” I heard a mutter behind me. I ignored and walked to over to the car but he kept following me behind me, I heard the footsteps clearly.

“Yalla 3a6eena wayh shway, shd3wa,” he smirked.

I unlocked the car and was about to climb in but I felt a hand grab my arm, stopping me.

“Wakher bas!” I snapped at him, I turned ready to yell at the jerk but someone had gotten right to it, right before me.

“Hey, shfeek 3la ekhty?!” The male voice snapped at him. It wasn’t Jassim’s voice but it was a familiar one but one I couldn’t remember, how was it familiar yet I had no memories of it? He had jet black hair, tanned skin, his eyes a piercing colour of hazel and his fit body was ready to attack the much shorter guy who was trying to flirt.

“La la khala9, asfeen yuba,” the short guy held up his hands in surrender and walked off.

“Feech shay Yasmine?” Jet-black hair dude asked me.

“Um la2,” I muttered.

“Akeed?”

“3ade as2lk su2al?” I took the risk.

“Yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck, peeking at me.

“Do I know you?”

“Ma et3rfeeny?” He seemed offended. “Shd3wa?”

“Don’t you know?” My forehead furrowed in confusion. Didn’t they all know about the amnesia?

“The crash ee bas shd3wa mara w7da t7greeny chene mu mawjoud? I thought our friendship meant a lot more to you than that Yasmine, honestly I got really mad, especially after what happened but I couldn’t let that jerk hurt you either way.”

“Wait wait wait!”

He seemed startled and the pain in my head was growing, simply leaving the house just made everything a whole lot messier. Now I understood why I wasn’t allowed to ask questions, why everything was erased from my phone but they totally forgot about erasing my text messages. That text message was all I had of what may have happened during the 9 months that I lost.

“I lost my memory,” I told him.

“Shnu?” His eyes widened.

“I lost my memory,” I repeated.

“Sema3tch bas mu men 9ijich 9a7?”

“Laish achatheb? Al7een tegder etgouly shloun a3rfk?” My fingers were shaking as I held onto my cold coffee; suddenly I lost my appetite for it.

“Abdullah Al-X… your best friend?”

“I have a guy best friend?”

“Yeah, me.”

“But we didn’t meet ages ago because I can’t remember you, I lost 9 months of memories, you must have been in there somewhere…”

“Don’t you have our chats?”

“Kelshay enmesa7…”

“Yasmine entay men 9ijich?” He seemed like he couldn’t believe it or was it that he didn’t want to believe it?

“Walla, I’m serious… I don’t know what happened, what’s going on, I know nothing,” Suddenly a lump in my throat started to form; I felt the tears but I tried pushing them away. I hadn’t cried, not even once through all of this but suddenly seeing someone who was a complete stranger yet also a best friend that I couldn’t remember made me feel a rush of sadness.

“Yasmine, don’t remember.”

“What?” I croaked out, his eyes were so serious.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Abdullah, what-why?”

“Don’t believe anyone, they’re going to lie about everything.”

“What the hell happened?!” I suddenly snapped at him. “Why won’t anyone just tell me?!”

“Yasmine, I have to go.” Abdullah suddenly took a step back.

“No, you’re my best friend, you said you were, you’re going to tell me, you’re going to fill in the holes.”

“Ma ra7 agder agoulch shay w mabe agoulch shay bas I’m here, I’m still your best friend. We can start over.”

“I don’t want to start over, I want the memories back!” I yelled. No one was anywhere near us or could see us, I didn’t care what I was saying or what I appeared in front of anyone.

“Once you get them back, you’ll regret it.”

“Abdullah, wait, bas 3laqal gouly mnu hatha, mnu daz hal message?” I grabbed my phone and showed him the text message, his eyes widened once again but he wouldn’t give me another reaction.

“Walla madre,” I didn’t need to get my memories back to know him to know that he was lying through his teeth.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m sorry Yasmine, mafrouth etrideen el bait w etray7een, mu tyeen starbucks Nuzha, especially on a Thursday, you’ll see too many people you know.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Yasmine ana khayef 3laich, okay? Khalech bel bait w bas sem3ay kalamhom w la etgouleen 7ag a7ad ench neseitay kelshay, just don’t,” Abdullah’s hazel eyes begged me to listen but I was stubborn, I didn’t want to listen when he was obviously not willing to help me fill in the holes.

“You are not a best friend, a best friend would help and clearly you’re doing absolutely nothing to help. I’ll get my answers elsewhere.”

“Wait, don’t, just stop.” Abdullah grabbed my hand and stopped me from climbing into my car. “I’ll give you something.”

“What?” I turned around to face him once again.

“Jassim Al-X, ohwa ely daz el message.”

“Jassim? Shloun? He asked if I was doing okay, he didn’t seem mad…”

“Adre, he knows you lost your memory, he’s trying to fix things between you two, you two fell in love and he was a jerk to you, he played you, cheated on you.”

“Wait wait…”

“Yasmine sem3eeny, wakhray 3ana w ga3da agoulch la etgouleen 7ag a7ad, they’re going to lie to you, tell you fake stories about everything.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“He hurt you so much, I didn’t want to remind you of the pain. You were so depressed for the past few months, your grades got worse and that night of the crash, he left you and was the cause of the mess, he caused you to crash, you weren’t driving properly because you were crying.”

An ache in my chest began to form, his words felt too real, I could feel the pain of everything but the memories were still very blank but his words were too genuine, they weren’t lies, they were the pieces of the puzzle that I needed.

“I need more, what else?”

“I can’t Yasmine, you’re too sensitive right now, I’ll help you okay? Shway shway, mu mara wa7da…”

“Abdullah please.”

“Yasmine, sem3ay el kalam, 3a6eene raqmch el ydeed 3shan asayva 3nde,” Abdullah dug a hand into the pockets of his jeans to grab his iPhone.

“Huh, raqmy el ydeed?” I was confused; I didn’t know I had a new number.

“Eee your old number doesn’t work anymore, I tried calling before bas it was disconnected. Degay 3lay, 98******.”

I did and he saved my “new” number.

“Now go home, okay? Do not talk to anyone else, listen to the doctor and your parents, you’re so stubborn.”

“Abdullah?”

“Halla?” He looked at me.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, feeling suddenly relaxed to have few answers.

“Hey, what are friends for, right?” Abdullah flashed me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. “I’ll fill you in on everything, even on us.”

His touch felt familiar and warm, not a touch from a stranger, not at all.

“Now take care and whatsapp me whenever you need me, salmey 3la khalte b3ad, menzaman 3anha!” Abdullah’s eyes seemed kind.

“Omy? La7tha omy et3rfk?” I was confused. I knew my parents were very open minded, they both studied abroad and had totally different perspectives from the typical Kuwaitis but I hadn’t known that he knew my mom. But I wasn’t surprised, mom knew my entire guy friends from university and high school, she only got protective when it went beyond friends.

“Ee shfeech, ugh neseit, amnesia, right. Remind me to explain how we met the next time we talk, okay?” He half smiled.

“Okay okay,” I nodded, still in shock from his words.

I hadn’t ever fell in love before but the words about Jassim, about falling for the typical guy and letting him use me, hurt me and break me? It didn’t sound like me at all, I remembered the times of pushing him away, I couldn’t understand how he had gotten in and had broken down my walls.

But Abdullah would explain everything. He had to, I was so sure my girl friends had less information and I was too scared to ask, girls lied just as easily as men did but Abdullah seemed sincere.

Especially after he warned me to keep the amnesia fact to myself, I couldn’t ask anyone else after that, I had to get information another way, I have to ask without doing it in an obvious manner.

“Call me if you need me, I’ll see you.” Abdullah smiled and walked away, I watched his tall figure walk back into the café and blend into the crowd of coffee hungry people.

As I was watching Abdullah, I felt someone stare from afar. The stare was burning holes into my skin and it took me a minute to recognize who was staring.

Jassim.

-

“Yasmine, mama say you no go out!”

Damnit, our housekeeper Hannah caught me as I was trying to sneak back into the house through the front door.

“Hannah sorry, I was just sitting outside I didn’t go anywhere,” I lied. “Don’t tell mama please?”

“La walla, I see you not in your bed from one hour ago and the car was gone!” She said in her heavily Indian accent.

“Hannah,” I sighed, rubbing the palm of my hand over my forehead, the headache was getting worse.

“I no tell mama but next time don’t repeat same mistake!”

“Enshallah,” I grimaced and hurried back to my bedroom upstairs.

I heard Hannah’s voice downstairs and the ring of a telephone, she had answered it in a hurry and her voice was too loud, I heard every word as I changed into shorts and a hoodie, I was strangely cold, even when it was clearly hot outside.

“No, sorry, Yasmine in New York, not in Kuwait.”

What?

“No I don’t have her New York number, call her mama, okay thank you yes I will tell her, bye.”

“Hannah!” I yelled from my room and my voice echoed through the empty house.

“YES?” She yelled back.

“WHO CALLED?” I yelled back.

“NO ONE, WRONG NUMBER YASMINE, GO BED OR I TELL MAMA.” She yelled back and I heard the click clacks of her shoes, clearly not going to answer me if I yelled once more.

What the heck was that about? Why is she telling people that I’m in NYC when I’m obviously stuck here, too fragile to go back to university?