Back At Sixteen

Chapter eleven

AZEEZA

In the past month, Khalil doesn't seem much of a threat to me, it's like he'd turn over a new leaf, and I think it all started when he saved my life… not literally, but he saved me from having to explain myself to the school administrative.

I really wanted to express my gratitude, but he just wouldn't accept it. Although, I did bless his cellphone with my number, which is still a suprise cause he hadn't block me, and he replies my messages, and best of all, none of his spiteful words involved.

With him this way, I think my school Life might just bounce back to normal.

“Straighten your head and slightly look left.” the photographer instructs, and I did as he says. He shakes his head in disproval and tries to show me what he means.

I, my mother and her photographer are at the backyard of our house in a little building called “Najmat's studio”.

Explanation; I did say I model for my mother right?! Well, of course we need somewhere to do that, and there weren't any extra rooms in the house with enough space as we need to turn into a fashion studio, but the boys quarters at the back. So that's it… Mom named it though. Poor Kareem had to move back into the house with us.

I pose for the hundredth time and the photographer still doesn't want to take the shot. He takes a break when he sees it's not working out, and I take my cue to leave. I also need a break.

“I'm tired!” I flop on the living room couch with an exaggerated sigh, and see my siblings looking at me like a crazy raccoon with red lipstick. They don't say anything and go back to whatever they were doing before I appeared. “What?!” I had to ask.

“You look ugly,” Kareema snorts, I open my mouth to strike a sick comeback, but I have none so I snap them shut.

“She just can't say it,” Kareem chimes in, “Hannan, if I weren't your brother, I'd marry you,” Kareem comments, although confused, a smile grace my lips, “you look even more stunning with this makeup on.” he adds.

“Awwwn!” I coo, blushing at his comment. Well that revived my morale.

“Way to go Mr. honest.” Fadeela says, playfully kicking Kareem on the back. He is sitting on the carpeted floor just below where she's sitting on the couch.

“Hey! Can't my brother comment me? Fadeela, you are a big bully.” I protest as she stops and stick her tongue out at me.

“Baby” I tease.

“Fadeela act your age.” Fareeda joins, she doesn't look up and her glasses sit firmly on the bridge of her nose as she studies from her nursing textbook.

“Oh! It's Aunty Fareeda talking, Kareem, Kareema, let's all kneel and greet our Aunty.” Fadeela sarcastically says, and all three of them actually got on their knees and began greeting her with exaggerated respect, asking the usual 'how is' questions.

I find my way to the kitchen, I grab a cup and put it under the water dispenser to have a cool drink. I sit on the island, I scroll through my phone with one hand, while holding my water with the other.

I vigorously tap on the screen, typing. I just replied a friend, Yasmin, I met at a pharmacy one time. I don't remember the story of how we became friends though.

After I reply her, the little person in my head reminds me that I'm being ignored, I tap his name and the string of my sent messages, unread, assures me that it's true. Khalil hasn't been replying any of my messages for a week now, and at school he looks like he is trying so hard to get back to his former self. I'm disturbed.

My phone pings and a chat bubble appears under my unread messages. Apparently, he needs my help with a math problem and he wants me to come over. That's unlikely but, I replied that I might make it.

My phone begins to ring as kizz Daniel's for you featuring wizkid takes the silence in the kitchen captive, I pick up and moms voice blasts through the speaker almost knocks me flying off the kitchen counter, “get your lazy butt back here!!!” she demands.

I reluctantly drag my legs back into Najmat studio and I see mom displaying a new gown. She doesn't need to say it, I already know it's my cue to change. She adjusts my makeup and I pose for the camera.

“Hannan, where's the spirit you had on our last photoshoot?” Suleiman, the photographer says, he is completely annoyed.

He stands with his hands on his hips as the camera swings side to side from his neck. I can't blame him for getting angry, I am distracted, I just got invited to Khalil's house and I accepted, am I crazy?!

Mom chimes in, “Focus!” visibly annoyed.

“You know what? I'll let you go, if this last one is a killer.” Suleiman grins.

“you got yourself a big fat DEAL!” I give him a thumbs up and try so hard to please him.

He keeps taking more than he promised and I am on the verge of crying.

Suleiman is a very persistent photographer who never gets tired. So much for hiring an energetic 19-year-old with mad skills.

“Sulei! Suleeei! I'm tired!” I whine like a baby.

Mom left awhile ago for an urgent call and God knows when she'll come back home. “Hannan, two more and that's it,” he promises, trying to take another but I pout dramatically like a naughty little brat whilst folding my arms, I'm not giving in.

“Hannan, pose.” he nags and I refuse.

It takes heaven and earth before Suleiman decides to pack his things and go.

When he leaves, I pull out of the gown I'm wearing and pull a green The North Face tee over my head and wear a faded blue Jeans under, as I make my way to leave, for you begin to resonate in the air and this time it is my best friend, Mariya. Apparently, she is looking for an escort to her friends house in kubwa and I was her most likely choice. I agree and she says she will be over before disconnecting the call. As the call ended, I slap myself for my habitual agreeability.

Hey there (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠),

How are you and how is the book so far?

Intriguing?

Yeah, probably.

So, I bet you didn't expect Azeeza's side of the story, did you?

Well, we need to know how she got to Khalil's house anyway.

But trust me, it's not easy writing the same thing in different ways.

And now, I am going to ask for my three most likely words;
Vote.
Comment.
Share.

~Love ♥ funraita