Atlan

Chapter 1

Aslan arrived at the dock an hour late, screeching motorbike tires muffled under blasts of EDM. He propped up the kickstand and dismounted, slinging the Domino′s Pizza pannier around his shoulder as he approached a group of college students. ″Finally!″ one hollered. It felt more like a barrage of condescending customers than a coincidental reunion of classmates. He recognised Ethan from their Marketing and Management lecture, but the realisation did not seem mutual.

″You better give us free pizza, Ali Baba,″ Brad from Business Comm chimed in, shooting Aslan a glare. Man can neither pass a class nor place a proper order, but he′s as racist and entitled as ever.

You could have given me an actual address, Aslan thought, but aloud he said, ″I′ll cover half the order and throw in a bunch of coupons.″

YACHT, MARINA DISTRICT SF left a lot to be desired – all the Islamophobic idiot had to do was drop a pin. As Aslan unzipped the thermal bag, keeping his head down in a poor attempt to get through the uncomfortable altercation unscathed, a familiar voice spoke up. ″You don′t have to do that.″

He glanced up to find Krish handing him a stack of bills, his kind smile splitting into a grin as their gazes locked. ″Aslan?″

″You know this pizza terrorist?″ asked Brad. Ethan added, ″Dude, he said he′d give us half of it for free.″

Krish bit his tongue, earning a small smile from Aslan. ″You sit beside him in class, Brad,″ he muttered, deadpan. Aslan and Krish did not know each other well enough for the latter to stick up for him like that, but Aslan appreciated the save. ″I′ll bring the rest,″ he told the group, hanging back as their collegemates returned to the rave.

Aslan overheard one of them refer to him as the antisocial Arab kid.

″Jerks.″ Krish scratched the back of his neck, offering him an apologetic look but not the pitiful tip that often ensued, much to Aslan′s relief. He figured Krish understood the plight of being the bullied foreign student better than most. ″You alright?″

″I′m fine,″ Aslan murmured, feeling his cheeks tighten. ″Just tired. I′ve been delivering orders all night ... this was the last. Yachts are harder to find than houses, believe it or not.″

Krish let out a startled laugh, balancing stacked pizza boxes. ″You should join me,″ he said. His bronze skin held traces of scarlet as he rushed to correct himself, ″I mean, us. Our entire class is here. Ethan′s dad owns the boat.″

″Oh. Uh, I wasn′t invited,″ Aslan muttered, embarrassed – judging from the massive turnout, he must have been among the few people Ethan didn′t invite.

″You don′t need an invitation,″ Krish assured him. ″You have me. And pizza.″

Aslan smiled, albeit reluctant. ″I don′t know,″ he admitted, shuffling his feet. ″I should get home.″

His little sister, Amira, needed a ride to school in the morning. ″You′ll be home before sunrise,″ Krish promised, offering Aslan his hand. ″Please?″

Aslan glanced back at his bike, but his outstretched fingers laced through Krish′s. If Aslan Al-Amari had known he would never walk on land again, he might never have taken his hand.