“Min Tkalmeeen?!?!?!” father screamed.“Emm.. Akalim il Salon yuba! Abi aroo7 asawi sha3ri 7ag il 3asha, itha mako mani3?”“…Entay matyoozeen min hal 9ya3a?! Raghad.. Il nas ishbitgool 3ani.. Ini mo 3arif arabi binti!? Kilyoum a7ad dag 3alay iygool li Wala shifna bintik ihni oo ihnaak! Basich 6al3a yala! Tinthabrain bil bait tiyeech il 7alaqa witsaweelich sha3rich. Mafhoom?”“Inshallah yuba. 3al amrik……”What the hell!? Now going to the hairdresser is forbidden!? What next?! Is he going to tell me I can’t go to school anymore?!I admit, I’ve been going out day in and day out, and before mother passed away, she approved not of me going out whenever my heart pleased. I suppose I’m just rebelling against my father because…After all, he’s the meanest most selfish person I know! [Atleast, That’s what I used to think, at that fragile and subtly insane age.. I was a teenager! Stop blaming me for being a total and utter bitch!]
I stared at my phone. I wanted to hear M7amad’s voice again, and this time, really listen. I want to listen to his breathing, and perhaps even his pulse. I want to listen to his background, and if the room he was in produced an echo. In simpler words, I wanted M7amad. I didn’t know the man! Heck, I only just saw him for a mere 10 minutes total, if not less! Why was this happening to me? It was like candy to a child, but being given from a total stranger. You know not to take it, but I just wanted to GRAB it! And make endless love to it. [No you perverts, I don’t mean physically.. I was merely umm.. Stating.. Ugh I’ll just shut up].
I picked up the phone. I called 3alia. I explained. And she LAUGHED. Believe that? She laughed at me!? Who in God’s name does she think she is to LAUGH at ME!? I knew 3alia, and her endless stories with guys.. But she was my friend. We’ve been the closest friend since the 2nd grade! Birds of a feather flock together.. Yes, that’s what it is.. I was turning into 3alia. Shit. Now I’m a slut. I hung up on my pathetic best friend, and made my way to the bathroom. Aah, a much needed bathroom break. I’ve been waiting for this all day. Please, don’t fantasize about it, ‘cause that’s just gross. Anyways…
‘Taraak Int il wa7eed ilii begaaali… Wehami Oo Laitini Hamiik…’ –My phone was ringing.
OhMyGod. Called ID- M7amad’s number.What should I do!?Yep, I picked up.
-I remained dead silent-“Raghad… Asif 3al iz3aj wallah bas baghait agool lich ina il sayara itkhali9 bachir ilsa3a tisi3 bilail, maykhalif itdizeenli 3inwan baitkum?”“Laaaaaaa2.” I said in total shock.“Shfeech? 3ayal shlon? Hahahahahah.” He was laughing. I loved his laugh. He had a sexy laugh.“Ana adiz sayigna il garage yakhith’ha, itha maku ishkaliya…”“3ala ra7tich ana bas gilt akhabrich.”He gave me the address to the garage, and I wrote it down as he spoke clearly, and with a laugh in his tone.“Laish tith7ak? Tara il mawqif maytha7ik kilish. Sorry ya3ni bas la tith7ak!” …I had no idea what I was saying, I just wanted to say anything so he doesn’t close the damn phone!“La iytha7ik, asif bas wallah iytha7ik.” He snorted!!! Cute! “Shili iytha7ik?! Ini bamout?! Ina ubooy ibyithba7ni?! Iytha7kik!?” I was p i s s e d.“Ismillah 3alaich ma7ad biymout, Raghad latgoleen chithe. Mako ila il 3afia inshallah, oo bil mustaqbal bitshoofeen ina ilsalfa itmawit min il thi7ik mo bas it’tha7ik. Kaak”What the… He has got to be joking. But deep down inside, I was smiling.“Laish ballah iytha7ik?”“Li2ana… Ra7 itgoleen… il7imdilla ilmawqef 9aar! Li2ana 3arafni 3ala M7amad! Aww” – He snorted again.I think I’m in love. This guy, he’s… hitting on me!? Hahaha, definitely in love!“Inzain… Raghad ana lazim akhaleech al7een… Aku sh’3il bil sharika ma khala9 athabi6 umoori, oo atmana ba3dain itkalmeeni. Ma aq9id shay, tara ana mo mithil baji shabab il deera 7ibeeni oo 7abaitich, ma tamshi 3alay hal suwalif li2ani a7tirmich.. bas a7ib at6aman 3ala 9i7itich… Oo ashoof shlon 9irtay. Allah iy7afthich inshallah. Tamreeni ib shay?”Heartbreak.“Salamtik” I responded, dying inside.“Allah iysalmich, allah ma3aach”
Okay, so let me get this clear, he was NOT flirting with me?! What was he doing then?! And why am I stupid to have my hopes up like this! I’m sure he has a girlfriend, or a fiancé, maybe even a wife! But, he looked too young to have a wife! I mean, he couldn’t be a day older than 20!
I sighed as I called the hairdresser, and ran to my closet to pick out an appropriate outfit for tonight’s dinner at the Terrace Grill. I picked out the perfect outfit! A grey Prada dress with my yellow Dolce and Gabbana belt, and a pair of black Louboutins. To top it off, I would take my Fendi B-bag. Perfection.The hairdresser came, and it just turned 5:00 PM sharp. My brother was to arrive in approximately 2 hours, so I called Joseph the driver again to make sure our plan was still in place. He reassured me that he would only tell my brother that the car was being serviced. I changed after the hairdresser completely straightened out every frizz in my head, and curled it perfectly. I must admit, I looked pretty good.*Knock knock*I opened the door.“7abeeeeeeeeeeeebtiiiii!!!” My brother, Jassim, yelled.“JASSIM!!!!!!!!!” I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. “Samnaan Jassim shino hatha! Bidaal il homesickness oo not eating, itroo7 itduba ihnaak! Affa! Oo ana agool al7een maskeen Jassim ma yakil oo walhan 3ala ahala” I teased. “Siktay siktay ihnak 3athab. 9ij Walaht 3alaikum.”We all missed him, ever since my mother had passed away, Jassim was the only person who had filled in her role. When father got angry with me, sometimes wishing he could strangle me, Jassim would ask me to go to my room so the 2 men in the house could talk. He always defended me, no matter how wrong I was, because, as he says… “Tara 9a3ab yuba, ilbint ma laha ‘3air umha ib hal dinya… wi7na umna allah yer7amha wiy’3amid roo7ha iljana tiwafat Oo Raghad tawha 9’3eera.. La it3atibha, imsa7ha ib wayhi hal mara”.He used to always say that, and that’s why I loved him.Now, if he ever finds out about his car, he’s going to slaughter me, no questions asked.“Yala, zahbeen? Wain Reemo….iffff” father muttered.Reem- the younger sister. The twit the tattle tale, the loser. She was 14, and had the most ANNOYING voice in the world. Enough about her, this story is ABOUT ME!
We were all ready to leave, and as we made our way to the door, my phone rang again.............