Crossing Borders

Chapter 1

I know writing doesn't pay the bills. I do. And I heard that more than enough times from my family when I decided I would major in English writing. And I'm aware how difficult it is to be an established author in a world where so many are trying to make it. I am. But what could I've done about it when it's the thing that  I was most passionate about? It's my dream to become a writer. I love playing with words. I love making up fantasy worlds. And because of that, I will be able to, hopefully, make it work!

These are the words I kept telling my parents, and the words I was so convinced with. But now, four years later, I started thinking that maybe I should've become and engineer and saved everyone all the trouble.

I'm finding it very hard to get a job in anything related to what I want to do. I apply to jobs like assistant of a publisher or an editor, a fact checker in newspaper agencies, or even a receptionist in any publishing house. Nothing. Not one employer called me back with good news.

And I don't know if it's the rejection, or the fact that I can't get a decent job, or maybe because I'm probably getting deported in less than a month, but lately I've been finding myself crying. A lot.

The only difference is, now, I'm crying on the sidewalk in front of The Bean after closing up instead of the usual bedroom tears. I think Lena has had more than enough with me; she's been patient and understanding. And never made me feel invalid, but maybe I've had enough of myself and can't imagine she's feeling any better.

Tears of hot desperation stream down my cheeks, and I can't seem to contain them any longer. I cry and cry and cry, until I seem to have no more energy to conjure up any more tears. Thank God it's night and the streets are empty.

"Layla, is that you?"

Oops, not as empty as I thought I guess. And of course, it had to be him.

I quickly wipe my mess of a face with my hands, refusing to humiliate myself further in front of the boy who would, undoubtedly, use it against me forever.

"What's wrong?" The familiar voice starts again, and hearing the words from his mouth feels wrong and unnatural. Maybe he's still figuring out the amo that will come out of his mouth soon.

"It's nothing Adam, you don't have to worry. Or pretend to care."

"Come on, you know I don't. You think way too highly of yourself. I would just hate for my father's favorite librarian to be in a mood. I think you're the only thing keeping him from killing me at this point." There it is.

I let out a snort, smiled, and finally opened my eyes to see that he sat himself beside me on the sidewalk.

"I'm getting deported." I said, almost comically, that he must've thought I was joking, because he smiled a confused smile, as if trying to get the joke. It's only when I didn't say anything afterwards that he probably realized I was telling the truth.

"Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's not right away. But at some point. I won't be able to just stay, because then I won't be able to visit my family. And once I go, it'll be hard for me to come back."

"Where are you from?"

"Egypt, and yeah, the pharaohs are great, we live in pyramids and go to schools on camels." 

He laughed, showing his dimples cheeks and straight white teeth, before turning back to me.

"And I'm guessing jobs for an English major aren't exactly abundant."

"Yep." I replied dryly, finding it weird that he still remembers my major. We barely had three common years in college.

"Wow, Layla. That sucks. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to say something you don't mean."

"I am sorry. The system sucks, even if my hatred for you runs deep, it's still awful."

He suddenly stands up, pats the barely existing dust off his jeans, then extends a hand to me.

"Come on, I know what'll make you feel better."

Usually I would be caught dead anywhere with him. But I was tired. And he was rich, maybe he'll take me to a fancy dinner or something that would make me feel remotely better.

Except....

"Are you serious?" I asked, when we finally parked.

"What better place to eat than where you made an absolute fool of yourself, eh?" He was grinning at the small diner, the one where I first met him during my freshman year.

"You were the one being a complete ass."

"And yet, you're the one who ended up on her ass."

I remember how much we loathed each other then, and I throw my heavy bag at him, but he catches it easily. He laughs. A moment of silence reminds me of what dilemma I'm currently drowning in, and I realize this banter was only a defense mechanism to avoid thinking about it. But it's too important to ignore.

We walk inside, still not breaking the silence. He picks our table, and sweet talks the waitress, and I only realize he ordered a drink for me when a chocolate milkshake was placed in front of me.

"I hope you still like this." He smirked. He was having so much fun with my misery.

I snatched the cup and drank from the straw, looking him dead in the eyes.

I realize I must've looked like a cartoon character; staring angrily while slurping a milkshake, because he started laughing at me.

And for a millisecond, I forgot about everything, and a smile came up to my own face.

But then that millisecond was over.

"I should go. I need to try and figure out what I'm gonna do." I started to walk away from this too-nice version of Adam, unlike his usual evil self, and make my way home.

"Layla. Do you... do you need help?" He hesitates, and I'm taken aback.

"No. Nothing you can do. Thanks, though." I left him there, looking at me like he was trying to figure me out, but there wasn't really anything to figure out about me. It was him that was acting weird.

I walked home, unlocked the door to my apartment, and found Lena waiting on the living room chair.

"Where have you been! I was so worried, you're not answering your phone and you were done with your shift hours ago!" She almost screamed.

"Sorry I..." I checked my phone. Sure enough, I had 7 missed calls from her. "My phone's on silent, I wasn't really checking it."

"Where. Were. You."

"I was.... With Adam."

The look on your face said everything that she wanted to shout at me.

"He found me.... I was.... It's a long story." I was on the verge of tears yet again. Lena looked back at me sympathetically.

"I drank a milkshake." I added, hoping that that would make her feel less sorry for me somehow.

"He... he took you out?"

"What! No! He just drove me to the diner."

"And paid for your drink, while you two were alone, late at night." She almost smirked.

Crap. I totally left him with that bill.

"I'll pay him back. I just wasn't focused. That's all. I'm heading inside. Good night leens." I walked with my head down so as to not burden her with my emotions again.

And for once, she let me go.

—————
AN:
Hey guys! I realised I didn't write an authors note for the last two chapters, but no matter!
Hello, and welcome to crossing borders!

This story has been in the making since 2018; I put a lot of effort in it, but it is still not completely finished. And I edit a lot of things, and it still needs a lot of work, but I'm really really hoping you guys like it!

Please read, vote, comment and tell your friends! It would mean so much to me.

Love,
Salma.