You, Alone. ✅

Chapter 3

Bored- Billie Eilish

One true thing about the market is how mingled and cluttered everyone and everything is. People push against each other in a hurry to go buy things. And yet the most complicated thing about humans is their desire to be in a hurry; in public places. Even if someone has all the time in the world, they are in a hurry.

No one waits or slows down to look at their surrounding, at the people, the vendors. It's almost a sin to be walking slowly in public places.

I was no exception. I trailed behind Rahma and kept up with her pace, we walked past vendors and people and smelling gutters. My eyes flicker to a few people as I pass by but that was it.

We stopped by at a small shop and I recognize it immediately. It wasn't because there was something extra ordinary about it, it was just the hard wired ability of my brain to recognize a place it has been to. I look around aimlessly, at the spices that were arranged on the counter just as the young man walked pass us and into the shop.

"Good afternoon ladies" He greeted looking between me and Rahma

The young man had warm and very noticeable brown eyes. His hair was tucked in and hidden beneath a beanie cap. He had a grey shirt on and pants. When he passed, I caught the scent of sandal wood.

I had thought at that time, how clean and very well trimmed he was for a sales guy.

"Good afternoon. We want spices please" Rahma said cutting straight to the chase

"What spices then? He asked as he gestured around the store

"Cumin seeds, Rosmary and star anise" She turned to me "I don't think we ran out of cinnamon did we?

I shook my head "But we should get more"

"More? No! Until we are out of it"

"What do you mean no? We can add to the one we have"

"That will be too much Ammara"

My brows furrowed in irritation. She knows I hate it when she calls my name in public and I hate it when someone argues with me, also in public. Before I could open my mouth and speak,

He nodded and said "You can never have too much of spice in your life"

Rahma shook her head "In this case, we can. She just loves cinnamon and wants to harbor too much of it"

"It's not a bad thing to harbor what we love is it? We want to have so much of what we love so we never run out of it"

His eyes, his brown warm eyes met mine and right there I felt my very first butterfly. I quickly look away embarrassed at the way I react just by looking into his eyes. What sort of a person am I? Getting butterflies by someone I'm acknowledging for the first time. Moreover a sales guy.

My mom would be furious if she knows what just happened.

Luckily neither the sales guy nor Rahma noticed anything as he packaged our spices into a nylon bag and handed it to us. Rahma collected it, thanked him and we walk away and I made sure to never spare him another glance.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"Didn't we exclude cinnamon in our order? Rahma asked as she unpacked the goods while I sat on my usual place at the island

"We did" I replied absentmindedly

"That man! He still included it" She yelled keeping a pack of cinnamon sticks on the island. She quickly brought out her small phone and calculated the money

"Weird. I gave three thousand for three spices" She said turning to look at me confused

"So he added it for free? I asked and she nodded

"Probably to lure us into coming back again. Or so we say he did a nice thing. A handsome man that knows market trick" She said turning back to unpack the remaining goods

I grabbed the cinnamon sticks and twirled the pack in my hands as his words came back

"We want to have so much of what we love so we never run out of it"

Perhaps he doesn't want me to run out of cinnamon sticks because I love it.

Or he doesn't want me to run out of love at all.

The thought made me smile.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"I don't want to go home" I exclaimed as we walked to the parking lot with my friends

"Why? Badiyya asked with furrowed brows "everyone wants to go home"

"Exactly. Except if you want to go somewhere" Erica said

"I want to go anywhere but home" I had thought and then shake my head

"Yes, I want to go to an art stadium. I've been wanting to go there for days"

That was partially true, I did want to go there. But the reason I don't want to go home is my mom. She's throwing her event party today and has been calling me to come home and get ready. The make up artist and fashion designer are here to get me all glammed up.

The only time she cares about my appearance is of course when her circle and the camera is involved. Eventually we parted ways with my friends and I headed home.

The house was buzzing with people who walked with an arched back and held champagne cups in between their pinky finger. Their phones on the other hand for pictures or videos.

I met Rahma at the foot of the stairs as she hold a tray in her hands

"You're just home" she said glancing at my bag

I nodded

"She has been asking for you"

I rolled my eyes and heard Rahma chuckled. She's the only one who knows how less I care of my mom and her absolute frenzied events.

"I'm honestly tired"

Rahma looked at me with a solemn look and nod before placing a hand on my shoulder "You've got this"

I didn't know what she's referring to. The event or my whole life in general. She adjusted her tray and walked away while I look around again at the packed people in our house.

"Ammara darling, there you're"

One of my mother friends, Aunt Habiba said coming to give me a hug.

"Quick, go and get ready then come let's take a picture"

I forced a smile and walked away. I have nothing against pictures, getting ready or meeting new people. But when you get used to being alone and forgotten, it seems unfair to suddenly be pulled into the spotlight.

I walked into my room and met my mom who was already done with her makeup and her two friends.

"There you're. Quick, get ready" She said and hurriedly walk out of the room.

I kept my bag by the bedside and settled into the chair as the make up artist started her work.

And till that event, I only dress and feel beautiful for myself and myself alone. There is absolutely nobody's compliment that mattered. It always rolls off my back like a dismissive thought.

Nobody's approval, nobody's opinion and nobody's thought. Nobody's compliment mattered.

Until him....