ZAID AND MARYAM ~ Their Story

10 - Apartment

--- ZAID KHALID ---

"Ta da! Welcome to the Loft!"

Maryam's excited voice echoed through the place. I gotta admit, it was actually pretty cozy. It was like a miniature version of the penthouse we lived in back in the States.

There was a huge living room with white couches, a furnished kitchen and a bedroom and a bathroom. It was quiet spacious for two people.

"But I heard you lived at the Student Dorms," I asked to Maryam who was hanging her wet coat on to a rack.

"Yeah I do ,but this is actually Fatima's place," she replied. "Her dad hated the idea of her living in a communal dorm but in the end she moved in with me."

"And her dad doesn't know it?"

"No. He thinks she's here and pays the rent but we use it to just hangout and do work."

There was an awkward silence cause we both didn't know what to say. I just looked around and observed the place but my mind wasn't really focusing. Maryam kept clutching at the sleeve of her dress. Suddenly we both blurted out,

"Sorry I-"

"I'm so sorry-"

At. The. Same. Time.

I just turned to face the wall to hide how red my face was getting. The embarrassment and awkwardess was just too much. Maryam seemed to sense it too because she changed the subject,

"Don't you wanna..I dunno..
take a shower or something like...the rain," she started then quickly realized, "I mean, I don't wanna have you catch a cold or anything."

"You don't?" I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

Her cheeks started turning crimson.
"Yeah, you could ruin your assignment after all the hardwork you've done."

I gave a small smile at her awkwardness. It was actually nice seeing a bold being like her suddenly acting shy. I told her I had an extra set of clothes in my car and I'll go get it to which she seemed suspicious.

"Why do you keep clothes in your car?," she asked. I rolled my eyes.

"To wear on the days some people have the tendency to throw coffee at me," I said coolly. "I'm always prepared."

She blushed at this, then went inside muttering something like, "Do what you want, I don't care."

I picked the clothes from the car and headed in. I remembered how Maryam took a huge gasp when she saw my car before we got here

"You've got a G wagon?" She exclaimed when we drove.

"Yeah, the latest actually," I said, pressing firmly to the steering wheel, feeling like a proud dad. "I also have a Porsche back at home."

"My Baba had one when I was little," she said, then turned to him. "Do you  remember him?"

"I'm sorry-," I hadn't actually been listening.

"My Baba," she repeated. "You've actually met him back in elementary school. Don't you remember him?"

"It was a long time ago."

"Oh I just thought-," she began. But I interrupted her,

"I'm not a guy who's interested in remembering the past."

To which she murmured an answer, the rest of the drive was silent.

"You look nice."

Her sudden voice brought me back from my thoughts. Maryam was wearing a warm pink sweater and sweatpants and a chiffon hijab around her. She really seemed to like pink.