by Amal Awad
We found a place that was only two people deep. Matt Damon wouldn’t be likely to come past but we’d at least have a view. I was relieved we were too late to grab a front-row spot, which Lara most certainly would have done.
While we waited, Lara told me about what happened at the hospital.
“Is the doctor who kept asking you out the one with the sideburns?” I recalled.
Lara shook her head. “No, you’re thinking of Joel. I’m talking about Simon. You know, the one who’s like a good looking version of Ben Stiller?”
I scanned the Lara archives of my mind, trying to remember the doctors I had met the few times I went to the hospital to see her.
“Nope, can’t remember him.”
“Anyway,” she continued expansively, “I’ve told him no, like, a hundred times. I mean, he’s married. He has kids. I even saw photos of them on Facebook. I should never have added him,” she lamented. She exhaled and leaned against the barricade, which we’d somehow worked our way to as the crowds shifted.
“And your boss didn’t believe you when you told him?”
She shrugged. “He said asking me out wasn’t harassment or something.” She paused. “I mean, having a coffee with a guy is all good. But if he’s married, it’s a no go zone.”
“Do you do that a lot?” I said, realising Lara didn’t reveal much about her coffee dates.
“Oh, well, you know. It’s always at work. Or just after. You know.”
“I think you should revise your Facebook account,” I said, deciding it would be wise to change the subject. “Do you really need to stay in touch with 575 people?”
“I can’t bloody help it if all these work people add me!”
“You can reject, you know. Anyway, do you have any job prospects? Have you been online?”
“Find another hospital, I guess.”
“Hmm. Your boss won’t make trouble for you, will he?”
Lara shook her head “I told him I’d spread rumours about him and Simon on Facebook if he said anything bad about me.”
I looked at her in shock. “Are you serious?”
Lara nodded nonchalantly. “Ahuh. What else was I supposed to do? I need to work.”
“But you wouldn’t really, would you?”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Spread rumours about them?”
“Oh Lord, of course I would. Oh don’t look so mortified! You’d do the same if you were me. Actually, come to think of it, you probably wouldn’t,” said Lara thoughtfully. “Oh, honey, they all suck. This is why it’s better to stay single. These men who get married never stop looking. Oh my God, he’s here!”
Lara grabbed me by the arm and pulled me closer. The screaming increased substantially as Matt Damon began his walk down the red carpet, stopping to sign pictures and take photos. Meanwhile, Lara was jostling with the lady in front of us to get a better view. Before I knew it she’d pulled me to the front of the barricade. I attempted to manoeuvre my way back out but the tide of people, no longer two-deep, worked against me.
Lara was jumping up and down and grabbed my bag in a rush of excitement. “He’s coming near us! Oh my gosh, Samira. He’s so cute!”
A few minutes later, just as Lara was squealing for about the twentieth time, my mobile phone rang. I fumbled in my bag and spent a good ten seconds looking for my phone, wondering along the way why I had so much stuff in there. I eventually found it.
“Hello?” I practically yelled.
“Samira.”
“Hakeem?”
I hadn’t heard from or spoken to Hakeem since his email about the birthday gift. Actually, he’d sent me some links to articles, but that was it.
“Are you busy?” he said.
“Um, sort of. I’m kind of still in the city. Why?” I asked, by now fighting for my survival as keen onlookers tried for a better view.
“Because I just saw you on TV,” said Hakeem. Couldn’t quite place the tone of voice. Definitely not cheery. Definitely not an “Oh my gosh, I just saw you on TV!” kind of reaction.
“Right, okay,” I said. But wait: I was on TV?! Which station? For how long? Is it true that the camera adds twenty kilos?
I looked to the side and saw that Matt Damon had reached us.
“Um, I can’t really talk right now.” Matt Damon is standing one metre from me looking very smart in his crisp suit, I was going to add then thought better of it. “I’ll call you back!” I hung up without delay.
Lara stood dumbly before Matt Damon as he took her notebook without looking at her. Soon he stood in front of me. I kept the staring dumbly at bay. I held out my notebook to him, immediately noting that he was much better looking than Will Hunting. Just an observation, mind. Matt Damon took my notebook then looked directly at me. He seemed faintly startled.
“Hi,” I said. Lips quivering, bright smile, I do this every day.
“Hi,” he replied, still looking taken aback. What, like he’d never seen a girl in a headscarf request his autograph before? Actually, to be fair, it was quite possible he hadn’t.
Then he looked down, signed his name, gave me back my book and moved on without a further glance.
“Oh my goooooooooooosh! That was Will Hunting!” whispered Lara.
Afterwards, Lara and I went to a sushi train restaurant around the corner to have some dinner. It took ten more minutes of watching Matt Damon sign autographs before she finally agreed to move from her spot.
“That was just amazing,” she breathed.
“He’s only human, Lara,” I said, as though I hadn’t almost turned to mush when he’d been standing in front of me, giving me that strange look.
I waited for the cucumber and avocado sushi to roll past on the little track, grabbing two plates.
“Please,” began Lara. “I saw how you reacted. Although he looked at you kinda funny.” She broke her chopsticks and eyed her choice appreciatively. I did the same and began picking at my sushi.
“I guess he’s not used to a girl in a headscarf asking for his autograph?”
“True,” she said, picking out the cucumber and dipping it in soy sauce slowly. “He actually spoke to you! He didn’t speak to me,” she continued, dreamily. “It must be the hijab. It’s a real conversation starter.”
“He said ‘hi’. Hardly a conversation.”
“Shhh! Don’t ruin it. He actually said a full word to you.”
“Okay, Lara, I think you’ve gone over to the bad place.”
Lara sighed. “I don’t care. That was the most fun I’ve had in… huh… too long.” She frowned.
“Do you know Hakeem saw us on TV?” I said.
Lara giggled. “Get out! Well, I checked us in on Facebook anyway, so he would’ve known that you were meeting with Mr Delish.” She bit into her sushi and raised her eyebrows. “So are you guys talking again?”
“I guess. I don’t know.”
“Samira, just tell him to get on with it and propose already.”
“Lara!”
She laughed so loudly the people next to us looked over at us, a little annoyed by the disruption. I sent them a conciliatory smile before turning back to my cousin.
“You are crazy,” I told her.
Lara nodded, smiling unperturbed as she dipped her avocado in soy sauce.
“Well, he acts like your husband.”
“He doesn’t! Anyway, I just feel bad because I kind of hung up abruptly,” I said.
“Of course you hung up abruptly. Matt Damon was standing in front of you. Matt Damon!”
“Yeah, I get that, hon. I was there, remember?”
“So any contact with wimpy brother?” enquired Lara.
“He has a name.”
Lara rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Have you seen Menem?”
“I’ve seen him a few times, here and there,” I confessed.
Lara scrunched up her face. “No!”
“Lara, leave the poor guy alone,” I said.
“No, I won’t leave him alone. Th
is is how you got hurt the last time with the loser.”
“That was a bit different.”
“How so?” She tilted her head and gave me a look.
“Well, I was stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid. You were just trusting and let him lie to you about his intentions! I don’t want to see that happen again.”
When I didn’t respond, her expression softened.
“Seriously, okay. So maybe the curry references are a bit harsh. But if he’s interested, he should get a move on.”
I was already exhausted and I barely knew him. It dawned on me how ridiculous it was that my fairly non-religious cousin was saying a guy should be proposing to me when we’d known each other less than a minimum lease period. Marriage surely deserved greater care.
“I still think you’re a bit harsh.”
“Well what kind of name is Menem?” said Lara, rolling her eyes. “Please, he’s left himself right open with that.”
“He didn’t pick it!”
“I don’t care. He should get it changed at the deed poll.”
“Well, if he shows interest ‘the right way’, you have to back off,” I said.
Lara paused mid-bite. “You wouldn’t seriously consider him, would you?”
“Why not? He’s a nice guy. He seems good and successful,” I said, quite matter-of-factly.
All true. And well, I liked him. It was that simple. More importantly, he seemed to like me. Not that he said as much. It wasn’t a Bridget Jones “I like you, just as you are” thing so much as a feeling I got whenever I was around him.
“Ahuh,” said Lara, putting aside her California roll to assess me gravely.
“Don’t you ahuh me,” I said, meeting her gaze.
“Okay, well I don’t want to influence you, except to say you’d be crazy to consider him period. But even more so when you have someone like Hakeem in the picture.”
“I don’t ‘have’ Hakeem in any way, shape or form. You need to let that fantasy go.”
“Do you want to see me cry?”
I smiled. “Promise me you won’t try and initiate conversation with Hakeem if you think you’ll have to mention my name,” I said.
“I can’t promise any such thing. Why do you have to ruin all the fun?”
“Lara.”
“Fine. Be that way.”
I shook my head. “You need to find a job.”
“Agreed,” said Lara.
“Lara, he’s actually very sweet to me.”
Lara looked like she wanted to object but thought better of it. “Such as?”
“Well, he’s always polite. The other day he looked all goofily proud when he saw my name in the magazine credits. He’s interesting. Should I continue?”
“Well, I’m sure he’s not awful per se,” conceded Lara.
“Besides, if it’s his way of communicating with me that’s bothering you, why don’t you care that Hakeem emails me but still hasn’t made a move?”
“Hakeem’s different.”
“How so?”
“You know him.”
“Isn’t that worse?”
Lara twisted her mouth and sighed. “Fine. You might have a point.”
“The council is merciful!”
Lara took a sip of her Coke.
“I’m thinking of getting a job at a clothing store. What do you think?” she said, swiftly changing tracks.
“You’re not going to look for another nursing job?”
“I don’t know,” said Lara, thoughtfully. “I wasn’t terrible at it. But it was a lot of work and a bit depressing at times.”
I never understood how Lara did it. But I suppose she had the right personality to work in such a depressing place. Very little could shake her. She wasn’t likely to be put off by the smells and the depressing atmosphere. She’d probably make illness nervous.
“I wouldn’t mind working in a fancy shop somewhere,” she said, brightening up. “Just think of all the good I could do for girls who come in looking crap!”
“Yeah, maybe stick with the nursing.”
21
Surprisingly, I came home to an empty house. I showered and prayed the last evening prayer then I made a cup of tea while I thought about tonight’s events. Good Will Hunting would never be the same again.
I padded back to my room and rummaged through one of my drawers until I found a few stray fun size Snickers. I hadn’t called Hakeem back, so I logged on to Facebook to see if he was there. He wasn’t, so I settled down to watch The Princess Bride interruption-free instead.
I was up to the Miracle Max scene with Billy Crystal when a message alert sounded from my laptop. I crawled over to it on the other side of my bed expecting to find a message from Lara in which the virtues of Matt Damon would be listed, but instead I found an email from Hakeem.
Subject: ?
“Truth is more of a stranger than fiction”.
I exhaled in relief – only then realising I’d been holding my breath – and smiled, warmed by the familiarity of this. It seemed ages since Hakeem had messaged me with a quote. It seemed ages since we’d just had a normal conversation and/or argument really. I immediately typed up a reply.
Subject: Re: ?
That sounds really familiar. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it’s a line from You’ve Got Mail. Is there nothing Hollywood can’t teach us?
Before you have a coronary, I was kidding. I have no idea who said that.
Please advise.
I logged back on to Facebook and a minute later Hakeem messaged me.
Hakeem: First of all, the quote “Truth is more of a stranger than fiction” is Mark Twain. I think you do this on purpose to hurt me, although I’m not sure why.
Samira: Who me? That wounds me on levels you’ll never understand.
Hakeem: Indeed.
I found myself smiling like an idiot.
Samira: Anyway, Mark Twain was an egotistical, vain loser. I know all about him, so you can take your fancy quotes…
Hakeem: Wash your hands with soap. Try this one: “The journey not the arrival matters.”
Samira: Woody Allen?
Hakeem: Very funny.
Samira: OK, OK. I have no idea.
Hakeem: Hint: you like his poems.
Samira: Hmm. Can I buy a vowel?
Hakeem: One of his names starts with “e”.
Samira: Ah, too easy. TS Eliot.
Hakeem: Very good.
Samira: I know.
Hakeem: Yes, it only took two hints.
Samira: You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re being sarcastic.
Hakeem: Never.
Samira: You’re just too clever, what can I say?
Hakeem: Indeed.
Samira: OK, I was being facetious. But facetiousness and cynicism are all I have. I won’t allow anyone to take them away from me.
Hakeem: Would you honestly use that word “facetious” in the real world?
Samira: It depends.
Hakeem: On?
Samira: Who I’m speaking to. So a co-worker, I probably would. You, even Lara.
Hakeem: You’ve thought about this.
Samira: Not really, I just know people. It’s a gift. Lara understands.
Hakeem: Of course. God help us. I assume she was the genius behind the idea to attend a movie premiere.
Samira: She’s a little fragile at the moment and needed a boost.
Hakeem: Lara and fragile don’t mix.
Samira: Yes, but she got fired.
Hakeem: Sorry to hear that. What did she do?
Samira: Now why assume she’s the guilty party?
Hakeem: This is Lara we’re talking about.
Samira: So?
Hakeem: OK, never mind. I’m just surprised you’d go to something like that.
Samira: Well, I wouldn’t ordinarily. But it’s part of our silent dawah program. Bringing Islam to celebrities.
Hakeem: Right.
Samira:
So anything new? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.
Hakeem: I saw you the other night.
Samira: I know, but, well you know what I mean.
Hakeem: Nothing’s new. I’ve just been very busy with work.
Samira: So no goss?
Hakeem: Goss? You’re asking the wrong person, I think.
Samira: Don’t boys ever talk?
Hakeem: Boys? I don’t know about boys, but men don’t gossip. It’s wrong to gossip.
Samira: Fine. Be that way.
Hakeem: Sorry to disappoint you. Zahra’s wedding invitation came though. Is that interesting?
In a sense it was. First, it was too early for invitations. But evidently I was going to be spared the torment of arranging them so I was clinging to the silver lining.
Samira: It depends. What did you think of the design?
Hakeem: Erm… it was a card?
Samira: Did you think it fancy? Elegant? What’s the colour scheme?
Hakeem: OK, Samira, I think you’ve gone over to the bad place.
Samira: Sorry. I’ll just look for our one. I can’t believe you don’t remember the colour scheme at least.
Hakeem: Well, when I looked at it, I was so busy gushing over the font and texture of the card that I didn’t have time to consider colour!!!
Samira: Funny. You should be a comedian when you decide science is no longer your passion.
Hakeem: Right. Look, I have to go now. Please promise you won’t get too influenced by Lara now that she has more time on her hands.
Samira: Ouch. She’s not that bad.
Hakeem: Yes, but she’s a tad wilder than you.
Samira: OK, I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try. ;)
Hakeem: OK, good enough.
A moment later he was typing again, but then he stopped. We were both quiet for a full minute at least, which made things feel rather dramatic for some reason. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he just get interrupted? Or was he about to say something important?
