Snowflake

He notices Myla's severe stare over his shoulder and turns to see Latif, standing furiously staring at her rival.

His lips come together into a thin line and she says, "You didn't tell me you were coming to see someone"

"Yes . . . because I wasn't. I came to relax before she walked in. I'm just about leaving"

She looks over at Myla before nodding, but her heart bubbling.

They walk away and Myla breathes out extensively, her heart stinking as if she just lost something very dear.

She comes to her senses; Jamal is engaged. What was she expecting from Latif after all that body language they played? She wonders how long she must have been staring.

Her feet suddenly retrieve its earlier coldness. His presence was creating substantial warmness in her. But now that he's gone, the warmth is no more.

Briskly, she strolls out of the kitchen and towards her room.

...

"Don't you think you're getting too close to that girl?" Latif interrogates as soon as he closes the door behind them.

His eyebrows crease "What are you insinuating?"

"Don't act like you don't understand what I'm trying to say Jamal. It's not fair"

"Nobody said it was. You can't just talk to me like that, as if you saw us kissing or doing something worse. That's not fair either"

She sighs and steps towards him "I'm not doubting you. I-I just don't like her. Just reflect on what she wore back there. And you being that close, made me feel very insecure"

"We got engaged remember? This is no joke" he walks towards the bed.

She lifts her shoulder "I know but . . . I've been observing you two lately"

He shakes his head "It's unlike you. Isn't it? You're best friend is being extremely close."

"Is this about the last time he talked to me? We were just conversing." She chuckles, enjoying how jealous he is.

"There you go. Why don't you see this in the same perspective as earlier"

She is speechless, her tracks dead. He moves at her and kisses the crown of her head "We should sleep now"

...

Myra is unable to sleep. She has been thinking about the conversations she had with Jamal.

He's not as irritated as she thought. He's fun and relatable. She has never thought she would find someone with similar characteristics as hers . . . to an extent.

My purse! She remembers suddenly. She needs to get it back, hoping he doesn't complicate tomorrow.

...

Dawn is near and Myla is not yet awake. Everybody is up, and as a routine, they get up to pray before going to settle the food on the dinning.

"Wake up sleep head!"

A deep voice warrants her to open her eyes immediately, as she twitches in her sleep.

A young handsome man is stooping down and staring at her like a snowflake on winter night. She doesn't believe her eyes so she robs her hand over them and re-opens. He's still squatting there waiting for her to recover.

"Don't you see well in your sleep too?"

Jamal?

"Jamal?" she pronounces, her voice is muffled.

"Good morning" he responds, a smirk playing over his full lips.

"Thanks. What are you doing here?" she inquires, crunching her face.

"Look around. I should be asking you that"

She does and her eyes grow wide "What time is it?"

"6:20 AM"

"Only? You're up so early"

"Early? You call this early. All the women are in the kitchen"

Shit! This is so embarrassing. She forgot that this is not in her house. When will she ever get used to this?

"Oh." She seats up right, promptly "Why were you the one waking me up?"

"Where you expecting someone special?"

Yes, Patricia.

"Where's Patricia?"

"Did you hear my previous, previous statement?"

"Jamal?" someone's voice echoes from the door and Myla looks over at a grinning lady who walks into the room, gracefully.

"I said wake her up and not interact" she adds

He doesn't look at his sister, as he already knew who said that. He springs up and stares down at her, whispering "I was all good before you came in"

She squints her eyes, staring at Myla then back at her brother who walks away. They girls look at his back disappearing behind the door.

Patricia redirects her focus to Myla. The recovering girl stares at the younger version of Jamal with a slight confusion.

"Why didn't you tell me all the women will be in the kitchen at this time?"

Patricia chortles, "Did Jamal tell, you that?"

Myla blinks her eyes and nods

"He was teasing you. I asked him to come here."

She flops her face against her pillow and groans. "I'm going to kill him. He almost gave me a heart attack"

She laughs "We'd be in the kitchen in less than an hour from now. So, wake your ass up and have your bathe. Then you can kill him"

Myla grumbles a little and does as commanded.

...

Everybody is seated at the dining table, people eating, and conversing makes the breakfast very appetizing. There are more individuals this morning than last dinner night.

Extended family, friends, and co-workers. Myla has been wondering if they planned on creating another ceremony. Just like Indians do.

She has no schedule of attending any organization they'd be putting in place. All she needs to do is get her purse that contains her cell and other accessories. She couldn't inform her friends she'd be spending a night here all because of Jamal . . . and maybe her stupid drunk head last night.

She has been computing on how to get back her small bag. Does she have to acknowledge anything? They talked yesterday. She's certain he won't make things complicated for her—hopefully.

She looks at him over the table. And he looks back. As if they are doing mental communication, he does that thing he's always doing when she's staring at him. Squinting his eyes and trying to read her mind.

Now that she has a message to pass, she won't mind him seeing what she is thinking. Because the better, the merrier.

"Myla, you left the party uninformed last night" Mrs. Mehdi's voice causes her to twitch.

Uninformed? This is not good. What are they planning?

"Um . . . I'm sorry mom—I was tired" she responds, her eyes moving to Jamal occasionally.

I was drunk because of your son.

"That's ok. We'd be having some games to play between the two families and couples"

She nods. B—but I'm not part of this family or do I have a fiancé.

"I'd love for you to be present. That's if you don't mind. It's not going to take the whole day. So you can return home, and ride, on your work. I know you're a very busy person."

Everybody is staring at her and she can't deny. She smiles awkwardly " . . . I'm right here . . . till—it get's over"

"Excellent. Trust you'd love it" the older lady adds.

She sighs. I know mom. I know. Just like yesterday. She wonders what else is awaiting her.

To be continued...