From Aliya to Hafiz

Ten.

Hafiz.

"What's up with you this past two days? You're not acting like yourself at all."

I looked at Gabriel over the rim of my cup in question, mildly curious about what led him to that thought process.

Probably sensing the intrigue in my gaze, he said, "You didn't turn down my invitation to go to that party yesterday."

"When have I ever?"

"You didn't turn me down, instead, you agreed happily. Normally, you'll sound all annoyed whenever I ask you out. And when we got there, you immediately downed drinks and hit the dance floor, gyrating against some chicks and—"

"Creepy much, Dasilva?" I raised a brow. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you have an unnatural attentiveness towards me," I smiled dryly.

"Thank god you know better then right?" He smiled back in the same manner. "Normally, you'll take a seat in a corner nursing a drink whenever we go out. Then you'll search around the place and lock in on your prey for the night. Then you'll down three glasses and make your move. Comparing that to your eagerness to stick your tongue down the throat of any moving person with lumps of flesh on their chest, I'm certain you're not acting like yourself."

I levelled him a creeped-out look. "Seriously stop."

He grinned. "What? I'm just pointing out the oddities in case you're wondering how I reached such a conclusion."

"I was not wondering. Thank you for telling me all that and letting me know your very normal attentiveness towards me. Know I would have lived my life peacefully without knowing that."

"Oh don't be like that Hakimi," he snickered. "So, aren't you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't think we're close enough for that," I averted my gaze to the dance, looking appreciatively at a redhead swaying her ample hips. With the way she was moving, I could tell she had some mean hip action. And we all know how much a good gyration scratches that itch.

Maybe I'll take her to a room upstairs.

"Ouch, that stings. I thought we were best friends," he held a hand against his chest.

"We are anything but that," I glanced askance at him in distaste.

"Your dislike of me showing," he smirks.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Let it show then."

My feelings towards Gabriel Dasilva were complicated. He didn't actively participate in my...ostracisation, back then. But he did nothing to stop or help me either, not that I expected anything from him or anything.

It was just that towards those groups of people, I harbour nothing but disgust and resentment. It was actually sort of pitiful that they were now my 'friends.'

It was sickening how they smiled at me and acted all friendly as if a simple apology and a 'we were once young and foolish' offsets everything they had done.

"Where's Bailey?"

"I'm not her keeper, why are you asking me?"

"Isn't she your girl?"

"She's a good fuck, yes."

"Oh? Does that mean you wouldn't mind me taking her home tonight?"

I looked at him, irritated as I wondered what the hell was his deal. "Seriously Dasilva, what the fuck is your problem tonight?"

"What, struck a nerve?" He grinned. "If she ain't your girl, why are you pissed?"

"I don't like sharing my toys."