VULNERABLE

MENTOS AND KOREAN MOVIES

ARMAAN

I leaned against the staircase railing, tapping my foot impatiently. Ten minutes. That’s how long it had been since Tahbeer, or Abidat, told me she was just going to change into an abaya.

"I swear, she could win a marathon in the 'longest time taken to get ready' category," I muttered to myself, smirking at the absurdity of it. It’s an abaya. How hard could it be?

Finally, I heard the soft patter of footsteps as she descended the stairs. I straightened up, preparing a sarcastic comment for her, but then she appeared—completely stealing my ability to speak for a second.

She wore a plain black abaya, but it looked like something straight out of a fashion show on her. The way it draped elegantly, the simple gloss on her lips that made them seem even pinker, and her veil, perfectly secured around her head—my heart started racing in a way I tried to ignore. She held her phone loosely in her hand, looking like she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Took you long enough. Were you stitching the abaya yourself or…?” I started, flashing a teasing grin.

She playfully smacked my arm, her lips curving into a smile that made it impossible to stay annoyed. "I’d like to see you try getting ready, Mr. Two-Second Prep," she shot back.

“I swear I could,” I laughed, rubbing my arm exaggeratedly where she’d smacked me. But as we walked out the door, I stole one last glance at her. Just a plain black abaya, I reminded myself. Stop overthinking it.

We made our way out, heading toward the street. The warm breeze brushed against us as we started walking to the supermarket. She looked around the street, then turned to me with her typical sass.

"Better not get me lost or killed out here."

I rolled my eyes, grinning. "Lost? Nah, I was thinking of getting you kidnapped. Keep things exciting."

She gasped dramatically. "Aalim! You wouldn't dare."

I shrugged, playing along. "You never know."

She didn’t look up from her phone for the entire walk. That was typical for Tahbeer—she was either glued to her screen or so engrossed in whatever she was typing that she barely noticed anything around her. It was one of those things about her that made me smile, even though I never told her that.

We reached the supermarket in about five minutes, and as we walked in, I gave her the go-ahead. “Pick whatever you want,” I said.

Her eyes lit up mischievously, and I knew I’d probably regret that statement. She went straight for a Mars bar, then grabbed a party-size bag of cheeseballs and some Mentos.

“You’re really stocking up for a full feast, huh?” I teased, watching her grin as she held up the bag.

“You said anything,” she shot back with a gleam in her eye. “Want something?”

I shook my head, amused. She piled the snacks onto the counter, barely noticing the young boy at the cashier who looked to be around nineteen or twenty. I, however, didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered toward her more than once as he scanned the items.

Oblivious as usual, she leaned in and told me, “One day, I’ll give you a run for your money.”

I handed him the cash, grabbed the bag, and nudged Tahbeer in front of me. Good thing he didn’t try anything stupid like asking for her number, I thought, feeling a wave of relief. The last thing I needed was to watch that kind of situation unfold.

On the way back, she glanced up from her phone and asked, “Aalim, why did we leave like that? You didn’t even collect your change.”

I let out a deep sigh, my frustration only half-joking. “Did you not see how that kalb was looking at you?”