However it goes, it ends in pain.

Chapter 11

All of Thursday I contemplate reaching out to him for one last meeting. One last outing together. By 2pm I force myself to sleep and do most of that the whole day to stop myself from thinking about him and thinking about doing something stupid.

I visit the tracks a day later. On Friday. Everything is normal. Like Ali isn't gone. The world is unaware, unchanged. God, I feel like hitting something. I don't though. I go for a ride. I ride for hours, and no one bothers me. We all have lunch together and I head home claiming I have a headache.

By Friday evening, I am still moping around. I need to pick up my slack though because school is back for a second half of last term on Monday. I decide to bake something and forget about Ali.

The volume on my phone goes to maximum and I whip out my bowls and whisk. Popping the refrigerator open, I notice I have ingredients for ice cream. I get to work.

A little into my cooking marathon, I decide to meal prep. Disconnecting my phone from the socket, I scroll through Pinterest for a little bit till I find something I want to make.

Plugging the phone back in, I open the refrigerator and bring out my pre-cut vegetables. Just then, I receive a phone call.

Samiha.

Our outing was oddly enjoyable. And we've been texting since then.

Part of me feels bad, the only reason I'm so tolerant of her is that I have no friends.

I answer the phone, and talk to Samiha while cooking.

When I finish, it's a little passed midnight. I've made cupcakes, ice-cream, a batch of white rice and fried rice along with chicken.

I go with a tray of snack to my living room and switch on the T.V. scrolling mindlessly, I finally decide on Harry Potter to watch; My all-time favorite.

I get up, switch off the lights, pull the blinds a little tighter, and settle into the bean bag on the floor with my pillows and blankets.

When I open my eyes next, the call to prayer is being made. I drag my drowsy ass to the bathroom to pee and find that I am on my period. After I change into a new pair of pajamas, I return to the living room. and roll the next harry potter movie.

I look around for my phone and finally I find it in the kitchen. Remembering Hemma's words from earlier that day.

'I didn't even say a proper goodbye' I whispered to her.

'I think he'd appreciate a text. Amra.' She responded, eyes boring into mine.

I debate sending a text. I debate what to say.

Finally, I send 'Hi. How was your journey? Hope it was good'

I switch off my phone immediately and throw it somewhere before I can convince myself to take it back.

Adding whine to a glass, and deciding I've had enough snacks, I sit back down into my bean bag and finish movie three of the Harry Potter franchise.

Most of my Saturday is spent on my living room floor. Watching Harry Potter. All seven movies of it. 

The cramps kick late evening, but I survive, and come nighttime, Ali has responded to my message.

'Hey Amra. It was okay thank you'

I don't say anything back.

I go to the bedroom and fall asleep. 

Sunday is for cleaning. I do a deep clean, a little more meal prep. And by 4 pm I am done. I shower and head out to pick up somethings from the shopping mall.

On my outing, I decide to visit my parents.

My mother is in the living room when I walk in. My dad is nowhere to be seen.

'Amra!' she screams getting up to hug me. I roll my eyes internally.

'Mummy.' I answer. We walk to the kitchen, placing the fruits down on the counter, I begin arranging them into fruit baskets.

'Where is daddy?' I ask my mom, even though a little part of me is relieved that I missed him.

'He went out just now. And he won't be back till after Maghrib'

'Oh.' i feign disappointment. 'There was no mango, I wanted to buy for you'

'And I was craving it o' she says lamenting while peeling an orange.

We take a plate of fruit to the other kitchen and settle on the high stools.

'So, that doctor boy, he was the one that called me, right?' I knew this was coming. 'Is he a friend?'

'Mummy' I groan.

'Am I not allowed to be curious?' she questions.

'You are' I grumble in response.

So?' she prods.

'He moved. So, nothing can happen even if it wanted to'

'Amra' my mother sympathizes.

'Did you want something to happen?' she asks, mouthful of orange.

I shrug 'Maybe I am just missing my friends.' I reply.

'Your friends, did something happen?'

'mhm'

'Amra. What happened?'

'We're not talking.' I whisper. Saying that out loud hurts more than I though it would.

'You had a fight?' she stuffs more orange into her mouth. That annoys me. 'Friends fight'

'We're not fighting. We're just not talking' I mumble.

Me mother's brows frown. 'Explain.' She commands.

'Well, Amira and I had a fight. We haven't spoken since. Habeel just is between it all and Usman 'needs space'' I tell her, air quoting the needs space.

'so, reach out to her. This life, it's too short. And what the hell is Habeel taking sides for!' she bursts out. 'You were just in accident Amra, that should be a lesson to all of you, anything can happen at any time!'

I am starting to wish I never told my mother about our fight. She'll ask if it's been resolved, she'll keep checking in and she might even go the route of sending my friends a message. I can't have that.

My phone making the call to prayer is the perfect excuse I use to end the conversation.

In the toilet, I think about my friends. My family. The tears threaten to spill. But I don't let them pour.

It is not until I get back to my home, in my bedroom at half 8, stripped down in the shower, that I let all the tears pour.

The tears for losing my best friend, for Usman, for Ali, for Habeel. For my poor heart, always going through some turmoil.

I cry very long and hard in the shower, that my legs go numb.

Gingerly stepping out, I clean my body and dress up, and with my teddy bear, on my bed, nightlight on, I go to sleep.

.

.

.

I remembered!

Enjoy. 

Nafisah