by Beena Khan
She picked the third book to read.
“I’ve heard about this novel. What’s it about?” Elif asked, flipping through the pages.
“A Dominican named Oscar. He’s apparently nerdy and fat according to society’s standards, and he doesn’t match the machismo expected of his boys his age,” Kabir replied.
Elif turned to look at him.
Kabir felt as if she was noticing him for the first time.
Her gaze is so haunting.
“Were you an Oscar too?” she jokingly asked him as she silently read the blurb on the back of the book.
Kabir was unsure of how to answer Elif’s question. He wasn't used to someone so blunt or accurate in his life. She looked up at him from the book when she realized he hadn’t answered. A wide smile began to form on her face upon seeing Kabir’s baffled expression as if she realized something.
“You didn't fit in when you were growing up. That’s what sets you apart,” she answered for him instead.
Elif pondered over the things Kabir did differently from the rest of men his age.
She had studied him over the weeks they had begun talking. He avoided staring at her, he didn't flirt with her or the women around him. He liked books, and he owned books by Roxane Gay in his bookshelf. He was intellectual and polite. He was confident about his work but not when he spoke with women. She noticed he avoided talking to them.
He's a rare species, she thought.
Kabir inhaled and exhaled before he began speaking.
“I was a chubby kid growing up. People look at me now, and they aren’t surprised why I have confidence. If I was still chubby, they would be surprised though. People think that if you’re skinny or fit, you’re worth something,.”
Elif remained silent.
Kabir thought she wanted him to keep speaking so he continued, “I couldn’t think like the rest of the boys my age growing up because I didn’t look like them. My looks separated me from them. I wanted to think about girls, weed too, but they would laugh when I did.”
“Were you bullied in school?” she asked him softly.
He looked up at her, the brightness in his eyes dimmed. He responded, “Yeah, it was a painful time. The boys my age didn't accept me, so I focused on other things instead such as books and science.”
“Your experiences were different,” Elif added.
“Right. What about you? Were you always like this?” Kabir asked.
A smile pulled at her face. “Like what?”
He blushed under her gaze, and he started playing with his fingers as his anxiety struck him. He looked up at her again and said, “You know what you already look like.”
Elif let out a soft laugh.
“Are you always this nervous around women?” she asked him grinning.
She’s so direct, Kabir thought, his cheeks pinkening. He noticed Aryan smirk at him, as he listened to their conversation.
Doesn’t he have anything better to do than to listen all the time? Kabir thought in annoyance.
Bartenders are great secret holders, another voice shot back. He didn’t blame Aryan for listening. He was in front of them serving customers as part of his job. He couldn’t exactly apologize for having ears.
He took a deep breath, and said, “I developed anxiety growing up—”
Elif stopped smiling and listened.
He continued saying, “The reason I’m claustrophobic is because when I was bullied, these high school boys shoved my face down the toilet and locked me in the closet. I felt suffocated in those small spaces, and I had a hard time breathing. It was one of the worst incidents of my life. I couldn’t breathe, and I thought I was going to die.” He admitted the truth to her when he barely knew her.
That’s the saddest thing I have heard today, Elif thought.
She almost regretted the self-pity that she felt every day. She was surprised Kabir shared something so personal with her. She nodded sympathetically at him.
“After those incidents, I never liked small spaces. People aren't built to be placed into small, confined boxes. I like bigger spaces, and I want to roam free, nor do I like making people feel helpless.”
But you’re not the one being tied up?
Elif remembered her words. Now she understood why.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She offered him a small smile. “You’re better than them though. You own this restaurant. You're more successful than those tools,” she added cheerfully.
Kabir smiled.
“Going back to your question, yes, I’ve always looked the same. I was nerdy, and I loved books.”
Kabir noticed Elif didn’t deny she was beautiful.
She had the model looks, and he knew she knew.
He liked that she acknowledged the truth but didn’t gloat.
He admired that about her.
“How did your thinking come to this?” he asked.
She sighed before replying, “It’s not that complicated. Young boys and young girls are raised differently mostly. Young girls are taught to be mature from a young age while boys learn the difficult way when life hits them hard.”
He nodded at her and said, “I didn’t mingle with the boys my age growing up besides my best friend Samar. He was at boarding school most of the time and returned home when he was twenty years old. Nadia, his sister, was one of my fewest friends growing up. Maybe she had an effect on me indirectly teaching me a different way to live.”
He smiled thinking of his best friend Nadia.
“So you were surrounded by a woman most of the time?” Elif asked.
“Yeah, it’s harder to cuss a woman if you’re constantly in the presence of one growing up. When kids are older, they distance themselves from their parents and hang out with their friends from the same gender. I hung out with someone of the opposite gender. Nadia taught me to be kind, funny, and respectful,” he said smiling.
She noticed his smile and asked curiously, “What are you thinking right now?”
“I remember in high school, Nadia used to wax her legs in front of me, tweeze her eyebrows, and she used to talk about her period all the time. I appreciated her more for how she had to carry herself.” Kabir smiled at the memory.
“Is Nadia your girlfriend too?” Elif asked grinning.
He laughed and shook his head, “No, she’s the bestest of my friends. She’s like my sister.”
“That would be romantic, falling in love with your best friend.”
Kabir glanced at her, and she seemed lost in a memory.
Who did she fall in love with?
“Nadia taught me many things. I learned overtime to stay away from negative people. They just find problems in even solutions,” Kabir continued speaking as he shook his head.
Elif turned to look at him.
He felt uncomfortable under her gaze. He was afraid he was too honest, and he revealed too much, too fast.
Crap. Maybe she wants to run.
After a few moments, she said softly, “You have a beautiful mind, especially what you did for Aryan. I hope you treasure your kindness forever.” She sipped her drink as she turned to gaze down at the table.
Kabir caught his breath, his eyes widened at her unexpected comment. He never knew what it was like to feel breathless until he met her.
Chapter 8
Kabir had introduced Elif formally to his squad, his friends, Nadia, and Samar. Aryan, she previously had met before.
Kabir was at the table as he introduced them, but then he had to leave to work in the back. Elif recognized Nadia’s brother Samar. He was the same man she had seen in her earlier days at the bar, and he had relentlessly stared at her.
That smirk, I remember, she thought. He raised his glass at me. Nadia and Samar were fraternal twins, but they couldn't be more different than one another.
Apparently, Samar was drunk.
Nadia was currently doing her residency. She aspired to be a neurosurgeon, and Samar was a chemical engineer.
Elif bonded i
nstantly with Nadia, but she stayed clear from Samar. She didn't like the way his gaze had glided over her body. Nadia didn't drink booze so she was sipping a virgin margarita while Elif was sipping her usual. Elif smiled at Aryan across the bar, and he smiled in return.
Two friends in two months. That’s a new record.
Elif, Nadia, and Samar sat down on the bar stools as they spoke.
“How old are you?” Nadia asked Elif.
“I’m twenty-nine,” Elif responded then she asked, “What about you?”
“Twenty-eight,” Nadia responded, as she sipped her drink. “I DJ here for Kabir.”
Elif smiled at her. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. Are you almost finished with school?”
Nadia nodded. “I’m studying at Cornell University for my neurosurgery residency. I still have two and a half years left. It's a seven-year program,” she answered excitedly, her eyes sparkling.
Nadia was a pretty girl, but she was no Elif.
Elif had a traditional classic beauty about her. Nadia on the other hand was an understated beauty. She had light brown skin with warm brown eyes that shined as she spoke. A nose hoop hung around her left nostril, and an uncontrollable black mane hung down her neck untamed. Her hair was curly as curly as could get, but she felt uncomfortable about her curls, so she typically straightened her hair for two hours every morning. When Nadia straightened her black hair, her hair ended at her waist — her true hair length.
Her body was thinner compared to Elif’s curves, nevertheless, she was still desirable. Nadia was shorter than average, she was petite, her height fell around five-three.
Kabir came toward the girl’s table.
“Do you want anything to eat?” he asked them both, although he only looked at Elif. Nadia seemed oblivious to the fact he wasn’t looking at her.
“Can I get barbeque chicken wings with fries as a side?” Nadia asked.
“Okay, I’ll tell the cook. You?” Kabir asked Elif, his gaze was solely focused on her.
“I’m not really hungry,” Elif replied, already tipsy.
“She will have the same as me,” Nadia intervened. “Girl, you can't keep drinking without any food. It doesn’t go down well.”
“You drink too?” Elif asked Nadia, smiling.
Nadia shook her head, “No, but I’m a doctor so I’m aware of the consequences of drinking and not eating,” she said. Elif looked at Kabir and nodded.
“So, Eli,” Samar joined in the conversation. “Can I call you Eli?”
Too personal.
Elif's eyes flashed at him. “No.”
She calmed down after she remembered Kabir said he was a bad drunk.
Samar was taken backward by her angry statement. “Okay, so, Elif are you single?” he asked.
Kabir was still standing there, and he shook his head at Samar who didn’t seem to notice.
Elif paused for a few seconds before replying to Samar, “How is my status relevant to you?”
Samar smirked. “So I could know how to change it.”
She wanted to laugh. He was smooth. Real smooth, and she didn’t like it. She hated his smirk, it was cute on some guys but definitely annoying on him.
“Kabir, can I get the food now?” Nadia complained, interrupting the conversation. Elif was grateful for the interruption.
Kabir glanced at Elif and then at Samar. After some hesitation, he nodded and left quickly to get them both the dish they wanted.
Elif noticed how Nadia stared at Kabir wistfully as he left.
As the girls ate their food, they began asking questions about each other. “You always lived in New York?” Nadia asked Elif.
“No, I moved here a year ago. I’m originally from Montreal, Canada.”
“That's a whole other country. Why the move?” Nadia asked.
Elif gazed at her, not sure how to answer the question. She noticed Aryan was listening to their conversation, as he was serving drinks to a customer.
He might report back to Kabir, if I tell Nadia. Elif thought, a smile tugged at her lips.
“I thought it was time for a change,” Elif replied carefully. Her answer was small, and sufficient, and she hoped it satisfied Nadia’s curiosity.
“Did you move here by yourself or with your family?” Samar asked Elif, joining the conversation again.
Elif glanced at him.
“Myself,” Elif answered truthfully.
“So, how do you know Kabir?” Elif turned toward Nadia. She wanted to change the topic. She was grateful Nadia was clueless and didn't notice.
Nadia’s face instantly broke into a smile. Her eyes brightened at the mention of Kabir’s name. “We’re childhood friends, best friends. We grew up together in Chicago, and then we moved to New York a few years ago. He moved before I did, and I followed him here. We both attended Cornell University for medical school together,” Nadia said.
I followed him here, Nadia’s words echoed in Elif’s mind. She realized who Kabir got his stalker traits from now. Nadia was in love with him.
“Is he older than you?” Elif asked Nadia.
“Yeah, he’s thirty,” Nadia answered her chewing on her fries. She already finished her chicken wings.
Elif sipped her drink quietly, smiling at Nadia’s fondness of Kabir.
She’s like my sister.
Elif remembered Kabir’s words. It was a pity Nadia seemed to be in love with Kabir, but he only thought of her as a sister.
“Are you going to finish your chicken wings?” Nadia asked her. Elif had only eaten three out of the six chicken wings, but she had finished her fries.
“No, have at it,” Elif replied and slid her plate to Nadia.
Kabir came again to clear the plates. Nadia asked him if she could get a chicken burger this time.
He rolled his eyes at her.
“How much junk food are you going to eat?” he asked.
“I don’t know how to cook. I live on junk food. You already know.” Nadia narrowed her eyes at him before poking him in the cheek.
“Okay, I’ll get it,” he replied.
Once again, Kabir walked away.
“How come he’s bringing the food every time? He has servers, no?” Nadia asked Elif.
Elif shrugged.
She saw Samar looking at her with a knowing smile, as if he knew the answer to Nadia’s question. She realized he didn’t answer, but he was quiet because he knew about Nadia’s feelings.
Elif didn’t want to think too much about the real reason behind Kabir coming to their table every time, and she knew the reason wasn’t Nadia.
❖
By the end of the night, Nadia had left.
She had exchanged numbers with Elif who was a drunk mess now. The booze made her fingertips tingle. She lived alone in New York, and she felt lonely. She didn’t talk to anyone besides Kabir and his gang.
It didn’t help that she noticed Kabir’s interest in her.
Booze tastes like shit after a while, she thought.
She could taste her own breath and the vodka still in her mouth. She desperately wanted a mouthwash. That thought disappeared after a few seconds, as she still took another swing of her vodka, wobbling as she stood up from her seat. Her legs swayed left and right.
The taste was disgusting, but it was addicting. Satisfying.
She lost her balance and fell to the ground without a cry and dropped her drink. The glass shattered, and the sound was so loud, it could be heard over the light background music.
Elif thought that the glass shattered around resembled her—a mess, scattered all over the place, and easily broken.
She smiled at the irony as she stared at the broken glass on the ground. The glass was beautiful, fragile, delicate, but when you began to pick up the pieces, you hurt yourself in the process. The sharp pieces of the jagged glass pierced your skin leaving it punctured. The pierced skin stung and it hurt. Then, you bled, but over time the bleeding stopped. Yet, the wound still stayed there.
Ten feet away, K
abir heard the noise.
He was distracted from his conversation with Samar as he glanced over to the bar. Elif had fallen and was on all fours. She was failing miserably to rise with the shattered glass pieces surrounding her sides.
Elif’s knees and hands were on the ground. She felt drowsy, sleepy, and didn't have the strength to rise on her two feet again. She was struggling to regain her balance and felt people watching her, but the ones watching didn't come to help.
People are cruel, she thought.
Her legs weren’t working the way she wanted them to. Neither were her arms, her hands and fingers. Her brain was trying to send her signals, but her body was refusing to listen. Her body ached with pain and exhaustion. She felt nauseous as she tried to move her hands, but her hand hit the broken, sharp glass.
She winced as she brought her bleeding hand in front of her face. She bit her lip from crying out loud as the sharp pain traveled through her body. She watched the blood ooze out in thick droplets splattering on the floor. She had several, small pieces of glass that clung to her hand.
Her eyes widened when she realized, the blood reminded her of the awful night when blood once had flowed continuously refusing to stop. When the blood had been thick and scarlet. She was dazed, observing her hand until she noticed someone was on the floor with her, drawing her away from her hidden thoughts. She felt another movement behind her.
No, not someone, she realized. More than one person.
Elif’s glazed eyes looked up and met Kabir’s concerned ones. She turned her face backward over her shoulder and saw it was Aryan who left his position at the bar. His brows were knitted in a frown, and his forehead puckered.
“What did you just do?” Kabir asked gently, drawing her attention back to him. He took the back of her hand and gently placed it in the palm of his own.
“I fell,” she said and gave him a close-lipped smile.
He shook his head sadly at her, and both men helped her to her feet.
