An Echoing Race.

Chapter Seventeen.

{Unedited}

#Chapter Seventeen#

 “Ok, well I’m going to jump in the car and give you two a minute of privacy. Well…as much privacy as you can get with five guards watching you,” Elisa laughed, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek before opening the car door and sliding in. 

“Thank you!” I called out just as she shut the door and she waved enthusiastically in return. I turned to Tariq who was standing by my side. He was still shifting on the balls of his feet and wringing his hands anxiously, no doubt due to the remnant feelings of nervousness after asking baba about the fatiha just ten minutes before. Despite how nerve-wracking it was for both of us, once baba had accepted, we both couldn’t hide our excitement. 

We were both sporting grins right now and I bet we looked like a bunch of smiling baboons.

“So,” he started, clearing his throat. “Your dad accepted!” 

“He did!”

“Three weeks?”

“Three weeks,” I confirmed, nodding my head happily. 

“Look Sameena, if this is moving too fast for you, if you’re uncomfortable or not feeling it one-hundred percent, I want you to know that we can delay-,”

“No!” I cried out and at Tariq’s surprised expression, I coughed and tried again. “Err, what I meant to say, was that this isn’t moving too fast for me. If it was, believe me, I would have told you. Everything is going perfectly Tariq, I don’t want you worrying.”

He let out a long relieved breath and glanced at me with a small smirk on his face. “Everything is going perfectly?” 

“Yes…” I trailed off, not liking the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So you mean to say, that I’m perfect?” 

“Um, no, I mean yes, wait no that’s not what I meant exactly…” I just stopped right there and hid my face in my hands. I seemed to be doing that a lot in his presence lately.

I was shocked to hear him let out a bellowing laugh. “I was kidding Sameena!” 

“Oh, right. I’m usually good at picking up on jokes but…you just make me nervous, that’s all.” 

He raised his eyebrows and studied me for a second. “Sameena Ahmad, nervous? Psht, never!” 

“Just because you see me on the T.V. and slapped across magazine and newspaper front pages, doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous!” I defended weakly.

“You know, I remember when-,” he started with a far-away tone, before stopping suddenly, as if he just realised he was about to say something very wrong. His eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat for a second time.