A kiss for Ree

Chapter 7|| We cannot be friends

When I got home, I felt lighter—better somehow—but also weak and thoroughly famished. I hadn’t eaten all day; my stomach felt tightly knotted. I walked through the big blue gate and entered through the front door.

Omar rose from the couch in the sitting room when he saw me.

"Did you go to see Imade? Uh, sorry—I meant Senior Alameen. Is he okay?"

"Well, he’s not completely fine, but he will be. In sha Allah."

"Everyone was asking about you at school. I didn’t know what to say. The principal called a special assembly, and we all prayed for him. He’ll be okay. Don’t worry."

"Yes."

"Your dad has been away since yesterday, but Lila and Levi are still here. Iya Iyabo and Iyabo have gone home. I didn’t eat what she cooked—I couldn’t eat without you."

I nodded. "I need to eat." 
Turning away from him, I headed toward the kitchen. He followed quickly.

"I’ll make something for you. Do you want noodles? Or bread and tea? Or cornflakes? Cereal? Should I quickly make rice?"

"Noodles," I muttered.

He rushed past me into the kitchen. I followed and sat on the brown stool, resting my head on the kitchen island.

Omar stood at the stove, a frying pan in his hand. He placed three large packs of Indomie noodles on the counter, then looked around, clearly unsure of what to do next. I smiled to myself—he didn’t know how to work the stove, yet he still wanted to cook for me.

"Turn on the gas cylinder first," I explained.

"Oh. Okay. Where? I mean, how?" he stammered.

I got up from the stool, took the frying pan from him, and replaced it with a pot. I filled it with a little water, then showed him how to turn on the gas and light the stove. I dropped two eggs into the water—for both of us. I knew he’d definitely want some, especially since he knew I couldn't easily finish all that noodles on my own.

"Okay, I can take it from here," he said.

"Wait until the water starts boiling before you add the noodles. Then, after a while, put in the seasoning—but remove the eggs before you do. Please sprinkle some pepper over it when it's almost done."

"Got it. Here, drink some water before it's done," he said, fetching a bottle from the fridge.

"Thanks."

I watched as he carefully dropped the noodles into the water. He stirred, then closed the pot again.

"I think you should put it in now."

"Right." 
He took off the lid, then took his time trying to remove the eggs—but he eventually managed. He followed all my instructions exactly, even better than I expected. I was proud of him—but even more proud of myself for being a good cooking instructor.

I brought out two plain white bowls and forks. After peeling the eggs, I dropped one into each bowl.

"That's enough for me," I told him as he served the noodles.

"Okay."

Food. After more than 24 hours. *Bismillah.* 
I liked my noodles very hot. I took a deep breath and rolled my fork through the steaming strands. Omar began eating too.

"Hey, guys."

I didn’t need to look up—I knew that voice. Levi.

"Hey, man. Want some food?" Omar asked.