by Beena Khan
“They’re always together. It would be nice for them to be a couple,” Elif tried explaining.
“Can’t a woman and man have more than one relationship? Why do you need stupid romance in every relationship?” he complained.
Okay, now he’s extremely upset. I should have kept my mouth shut, she thought.
She swiped at her eyes, stifling a yawn. She glanced at the time on her phone, and it was past one.
Elif offered a sheepish smile at Aryan, who rolled his eyes in return. “Did I overstep?” she asked softly
Aryan thought for a few seconds before responding, “Your intentions might be food, but you just gave hope to her when Kabir doesn’t feel that way about her.”
“How do you know he doesn’t?” she asked.
Aryan face palmed himself against his forehead. “Your booze has clouded your judgement if you can’t see it. Even a blind man can see he is not feeling it.”
Elif grimaced at his words. “I was only trying to help.”
Aryan rolled his eyes. “You’re a drunk. You need help,” he said.
She grinned at him. “How do you know I don’t drink for fun?”
“Well... do you?” he asked.
Elif kept grinning, refusing to answer him. After a moment, she asked, “Why don’t you guess?”
Aryan scratched his head and said, “Well, you drink alone... in a bar. You don’t drink with anyone else. You don’t talk much to anyone. You fell to the floor the other day, a classic move of a drunk.”
Elif rested her hand in the crook of her neck and smiled at him. “Thanks.”
Aryan shook his head at her, but a smile began to form on his face. After a moment he leaned closer to her face, until they were only a few inches apart and said, “Kabir doesn’t like Nadia in that way. Don’t tell him I told you, but he...likes you.” Then, he added in a low voice, “And you know that.”
She lost her grin and looked down, abruptly.
He shook his head and was walking away when he heard her say softly, “He deserves a better love.”
He turned back toward her, and Elif noticed the pitiful expression on his face.
She grimaced. “Oh, don’t pity me. I hate pity.”
“You don’t think you deserve him? Is that why you’re pushing Nadia toward him?” Aryan asked.
“She’s already in love with him. I’m complicated. He would be happier with someone who he knows and trusts already,” she explained.
“Why don’t we let Kabir decide that?” Aryan asked gently. When Elif didn’t respond, he walked away.
Chapter 11
Kabir, Elif, Aryan, Nadia, and Samar were sitting at the table.
Kabir convinced Elif to sit down with them instead of her usual bar stool. She still dangled a vodka bottle in her grasp, as she quietly sipped its nectar. She sat next to Aryan and across sat Kabir, Nadia, and Samar.
“Let’s do the reverse game of two lies, one truth. Let’s play two truths, and one lie instead,” Nadia said, her eyes brightening with excitement at the new idea.
Aryan rolled his eyes in annoyance.
Kabir wanted to play as he wanted to know the truth about Elif.
Elif gazed at the group from her drink. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to play. She eyed Samar who was looking at her. He was already drunk once again.
“You guys already know the rules. I’m assuming you do too, Elif. You state two truths and one lie about yourself. Everyone else guesses the lie. I'm going to go first since it was my idea. My favorite color is purple. I can speak multi-languages, Arabic, Urdu, and Spanish, and I have a phobia of spiders,” Nadia said.
“I already know. You have a phobia of the darkness,” Nadia’s brother, Samar caught her lie.
Nadia sighed in frustration and turned to look at him at her left. “You, in particular, can't call out my lies,” she scolded Samar.
Elif smiled at their sibling rivalry.
It must be nice to have a family, Elif thought.
“Kabir, your turn,” Nadia turned toward him.
“My full name is Kabir Ahmed Khan. I had my first girlfriend at seventeen, and my favorite cigarette brand is Malboro,” Kabir said softly.
Elif gazed at him, surprised. “Wow, seventeen huh? I had my first boyfriend at fifteen,” she embarrassingly admitted. “For the lie, you don’t have a middle name,” she said after some time.
“And how would you know?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “The surname Khan is very powerful. It can also stand alone.” Khan was a powerful surname that originated from Turkic dynasties. It was popularly referred to the Pashtuns tribes of Pakistan and Afghanistan who also lived in India and Bangladesh.
Kabir felt a smile tugging his lips. “True.”
“Who was the lucky girlfriend at seventeen?” she asked.
“I met her in high school. I was an ugly duckling before,” Kabir replied, grimacing.
“And now you’re a swan.” Nadia smiled as she interrupted the conversation, side hugging Kabir.
“Where is she now?” Elif asked.
“If I tell you now, it would spoil the game,” he replied.
Elif grinned at him.
“My turn!” Aryan exclaimed. Elif’s and Kabir’s conversation was interrupted for the second time.
“I have a secret fetish for women’s heels. I only sleep five hours a night, and I don’t drink booze.”
“Your secret fetish is a lie. It’s creepy, and you really expect me to believe, as a bartender you don’t drink booze?” Nadia exclaimed.
Kabir laughed at the group.
Elif tilted her head in his laughter’s direction.
It’s a nice sound, she thought. His laughter’s warm and hearty.
“He doesn’t drink alcohol, stupid,” Kabir said to Nadia.
Elif’s eyes widened as she stared at Aryan. “So, you have a fascination with women’s heels? Who knew?” she said laughing.
“Yep, it started when I was fifteen years old. My mother found my whole collection, and she probably had a heart attack thinking her only son was secretly a woman,” Aryan responded. Elif choked on her drink and burst into an infectious giggle that soon turned into hysterical laughter. Her laughter was rich and loud. It was contagious and soon others were laughing with her.
“By the way, I love your heels,” Aryan eyed Elif’s black platform heels. Elif’s eyes followed his gaze toward her feet.
“You’re not getting my shoes,” she warned him. In the corner of her eye, she saw Kabir trying to suppress a smile but failing miserably.
“Samar, it’s your turn,” Nadia told Samar, glancing at him.
Samar sat back on his seat and put his hand on the couch around him.
“I'm older than Nadia by five minutes. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen, and I want to fuck Elif,” Samar looked Elif right in the eye with a wolfish grin.
Elif glanced up at him, her mouth slightly open. She paused and stopped drinking. The smile she had on her face moments ago was lost.
Then, she glared at Samar.
Kabir wasn't happy with the game Samar was playing.
He was fuming. His face flamed red, and it bothered him that Samar made an inappropriate comment about Elif.
What’s his problem? Kabir thought.
“I really hope fucking me was a lie,” Elif said cooly.
“I lost my virginity when I was thirteen,” Samar replied smoothly.
“To who? Your teacher? You’re a real fuck-face,” Aryan replied, shaking his head, shooting an apologetic look at Elif.
Samar threw an angry glare at Aryan. “Better than you who gets off on chick's heels.”
Then, he turned his gaze back toward Elif. Soon, they both stared at each other for a certain amount of time, both refusing to break eye contact. Stuck in a trance-like state, Elif stared at Samar’s dark eyes in annoyance, and Samar stared at Elif in a predatory way.
Kabir didn't like how Samar stared at Elif’s bare shoulders, and how
his gaze dropped down to her breasts and her long, nude legs. Kabir didn't know how to respond. He wished he could have said something to condemn Samar’s behavior, but he was left speechless.
Poor Nadia looked embarrassed.
She didn’t know whether to defend her brother or agree with Elif, so she remained quiet for a few moments. Then she said, “Okay, I’m just going to leave now. I apologize for my brother’s shitty behavior, Elif.” She raised herself up from her seat but not before jabbing an elbow in Samar’s chest making him wince.
He deserves that, Kabir thought.
Now only Kabir, Elif, Samar, and Aryan remained.
“It’s my turn,” Aryan says. “I’m twenty-three. I steal cars, and I hate Samar.”
Elif laughed. “Your last statement is definitely true.”
Aryan grinned at her.
“The feeling is mutual, hobo,” Samar replied defensively, taking a jab at the fact that Aryan was once homeless.
Aryan rolled his eyes at him. “You’re still a fuck-face.”
Elif laughed and Kabir smiled. She could sense a tension between Aryan and Samar but didn't know the cause.
“Still a fuck-face who fucks better than your Sikh ass,” Samar said to Aryan.
Elif’s eyebrows furrowed. Oh, it's a religious clash.
Aryan sighed. Elif could tell he didn't want to argue with Samar. It was like arguing with an immature toddler in a man’s body.
“Your turn, Red,” Samar said, smirking at Elif, taunting her to dare to confront him instead.
“You’re a dick,” she remarked. “And only Kabir gets to call me Red.”
Aryan sputtered his drink laughing. Kabir hid a smile and nodded in confirmation. Elif looked at Samar gouging his reaction, but he simply smirked.
She took a sip from her drink. After a few moments she said, “I'm half Pakistani and half Persian. I'm an orphan, and I’m a high school teacher.”
That’s where she gets her distinct eyes and nose from, Kabir realized.
“I wish I was your student.” Samar smirked at Elif.
Kabir shook his head at him in annoyance.
After a few moments she said, “I’m not a high school teacher, I’m an engineer during the day.”
Kabir smiled as another realization dawned on him. “That’s why you like to design.” He lost his smile as he recalled one of her truths. “How are you an orphan?” he asked her gently.
She gave him a small smile and continued, “I was an only child. I don’t have any siblings. I don’t have the same bond you two do.” She pointed her chin toward Samar and Nadia. She took a deep breath and continued, “My parents died in a robbery when I was fifteen-years old. I lived with my maternal aunt after my parent’s death.”
Kabir pondered over her confession.
He wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but Samar was quick in his reaction and took the opportunity to lean across and touch Elif. He placed his hand above hers, “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
She stared at Samar’s hand above hers. She nodded, accepting his condolences before removing her hand from his.
Elif studied Samar as she remembered his blunt truth he admitted a few moments ago. He was a perfect man, if you were attracted to annoying snobs like him. He had deep black eyes, and he had dimples when he smiled. His muscular arms showed in his too-tight and stretched out shirt. Elif wasn’t attracted to him.
She glanced at Kabir, his opposite. Quiet, sweet, brooding Kabir who was angrily staring at Samar.
Aryan had a remorseful look on his face, and he seemed like he felt sorry for Elif. The bar entrance opened and a customer walked in asking for a drink. Aryan, being a good bartender excused himself from the group and left to do his duty.
“And then there were three,” Samar commented chuckling.
Kabir wished Samar would shut up already, and he began questioning their thirty-year old friendship—how they were so different yet best friends.
“How did you turn to engineering?” Samar asked Elif. “It’s not common in South Asian culture for a female to turn to a male-dominated career, like engineering.”
“I like engineering,” she simply responded, not providing further details. “Kabir, it’s your turn,” she added softly while drinking again.
She had finished her bottle by now, and she asked for another one from Aryan. She wasn't drunk yet but tipsy. Her tolerance level of handling alcohol was getting better since she had been drinking for a long time now.
“I opened the bar three years ago. I was engaged once upon a time, and I like reading poetry,” Kabir said.
Elif glanced at him wondering, what happened to his engagement?
She glanced at his hand, but she didn’t notice a ring on it. In South Asian culture, some men preferred to wear a ring on their ring finger when they were engaged.
She realized, they both had questions they wanted to ask each other, but Samar was still in their presence. He hadn’t left yet so Kabir and Elif’s protective outer layers were still worn tightly around them.
“You opened the bar two years ago, shithead,” Samar commented, punching Kabir in the arm. “Why do you even like poetry? Shit is so boring,” he said disgustedly.
Elif glanced at him in surprise.
She couldn't believe he disrespected poetry with one single comment. “Poetry is a form of art, it’s used to express yourself,” she said defensively.
“If you like it so much, I’ll become a poet for you,” Samar said, mimicking a cheers to her.
Elif rolled her eyes at him.
“It’s your turn,” she responded flatly.
Samar grinned in glee, a dimple formed in each cheek.
“I’m an engineer too, I speak fluent Farsi, and I want to see you naked.” Samar stared right at Elif who began to choke on her drink, the drink almost slipping out of her grasp before she caught it.
Damn, I thought I was honest, but this guy is brutal.
She was amazed how some men can be assholes yet think their balls are huge. She was astonished at how he was degrading her publicly as if she’s only skin and no heart. She wanted to smash her bottle on his head. Her eyes blazed with anger. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by Kabir.
Kabir instantly got up and shoved Samar, “How can you talk like that about her?”
“What?” Samar said, laughing. “I’m pretty sure you imagined her naked while wishing you were fucking her.”
Elif wanted to close her ears. Before Kabir could throw a punch at Samar’s sneering face, she smashed her bottle down on Samar’s head. He fell to the ground with a cry holding his head.
Kabir glanced at her in shock.
Nadia and Aryan quickly came to their side running.
“What the hell happened?” Nadia exclaimed. Samar was bleeding from his forehead, but otherwise, he seemed to be stable.
Elif shrugged. “Samar wanted to smash, but he got smashed instead.”
Kabir laughed, and she glanced at him, at the sound of the laughter. A smile tugged at her lips.
Soon, they both were laughing. Aryan joined in the laughter and high-fived her. He began cleaning up the broken bottle mess with one of the servers, and Nadia carried Samar out the door in the direction of the hospital.
“Do you think he would need stitches?” Elif asked him once, sitting down.
“He deserves it,” Kabir replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. He surprised us all with his first comment.” He stared at the ground, his eyes filled with guilt and shame.
She leaned over and placed her hand on top of his. “Better late than never.”
He glanced at her skin touching his. Her hand was warmer than the last time she touched him. She moved her hand away, and his skin hit the cooler air, missing her touch.
“What he said, does it count as an honest truth?” he asked.
Crap, I meant to think that in my head, he thought.
“That he wants to fuck me, and he wants t
o see me naked?” she asked.
Kabir blushed so hard under her gaze, and he regretted that he even opened his mouth and asked the question. He opened his mouth to answer, then he just decided to shut up. He began fidgeting with his hand, tugging at his index finger.
Elif was still speaking, “It could count, but he knows it’s a shitty truth since I don’t like him... His truth was more brutal and hurtful. He wasn’t just being honest but also spiteful.” She grimaced.
That makes sense.
After some time, he asked a question, “What does your name mean? I mean Elif. I saw it on your license, the time I dropped you home, it starts off with E.”
Elif looked at him.
“The word “Alif” I know is mentioned in the Holy Qur’an, but what does Elif actually mean?”
She smiled at him. “It’s a Turkish name. Iit has multiple meanings. One meaning is a beautiful girl.”
“Yeah, beautiful,” he replied softly as he gazed at Elif who wasn't paying attention, because she was too busy staring at her glass.
You didn't notice my honest truth this time.
She looked up and added, “It also means alpha.”
They both grinned at the same time at the similarity of her name and her personality.
“I like the other meaning of the name though. It symbolizes friendship and the girl who spreads the light.”
I like that one.
“What does Kabir mean?” Elif asked.
“Leader,” he replied.
She looked up at him and studied him intently.
“What are you thinking?” Kabir asked.
He was almost afraid of her answer.
“I like that name,” she replied.
He was thinking she was going to add onto her statement that she didn’t think he was a leader.
After a few painful moments, she smiled again and said, “Doctors are leaders.”
Kabir’s breath hitched.
She continued, “It’s strange how our names have similar meanings. Alpha’s and leaders.”
They stared at each other in silence. She broke eye contact and glanced at the time. It was past two in the morning.
“It’s getting late. I have to head home.” She stood up to leave.
