Boys Don't Bite

5: The Slick Fox

Izaan. Of course he had a name that pretty.

"You look really good," he said, offering me a pleasant smile.

"Oh, thanks. I mean... you look great too, yeah."

He laughed at me, without making me feel small. I felt he was trying to ease my nerves, but it was difficult to calm down with him looking straight at me like that.

"We're actually sort of matching," Izaan added, pointing first at my shoes and then at the teal on his shirt.

I felt the heat in my face rise. My headed bobbed up and down mindlessly, and I scrambled for words, anxious my endless admiration would paint me vapid.

"I like your shells," I tried. "My mum would never let me wear those."

"How come?" he replied, appearing genuine in his interest.

"Witchcraft," I murmured, and paused- waiting for him to laugh at me. But Izaan raised his eyebrows inquisitively, clearly waiting for a deeper explanation. "Culturally speaking, cowry shells are supposedly used in the performance of dark magic. It's like in the same group as voodoo dolls and footprints."

Izaan only grew more confused. "Footprints?"

"Well, yeah. It's considered dangerous to move around barefoot because witches can scoop up the sand in your footprint and use it to curse you. It's a pretty common belief back home."

"Back home being...?" he asked, supporting his head on a balled fist.

"Zimbabwe."

"Ah! Just next door then?"

"I guess so, yeah."

We stared at one another awkwardly, before breaking out in nervous giggles.

"Having fun, ekse?" Johan shouted at us over his shoulder.

"Maybe," Izaan smirked, winking at me.

He entertained Johan for another minute before asking to be left alone and returning his attention to me.

"I saw you today." He squinted at me, as if he was trying to remember how I had looked hours before. "That was you right? Dancing?"

"Yeah, I thought I saw you by the door right when I got off stage. But you sort of vanished after, hey?"

"Ja, well... I actually wanted to stay and tell you your dancing was great but I freaked out a little and had to leave."

He hid his face in his hands sheepishly, flashing a set of perfectly manicured teal nails. A gap opened between his index and middle fingers to allow him to peer at me.

"I promise I'm not a stalker. Us meeting like this is purely a coincidence."

"I'm sort of happy it happened," I reassure him, his own nerves encouraging my confidence.

Izaan lowered his hands slowly. The eyes that came up to meet mine were hopeful. A canine grin accompanied them and I felt shivers reel through me.

"Really? Why is that?"

"I saw you and I was sort of intrigued, you know."

Izaan wriggled his eyebrows at me with a smirk.

"So you think I'm cute?"

I laughed, hoping I sounded nonchalant, and shrugged.

"Maybe."

The boy leaned back on the seat, seemingly surveying the ceiling of the Uber, while his entire face turned the shade of ketchup. He took a moment to run a hand through his hair in what was likely an effort to compose himself. I had never thought I could have this kind of effect on anybody. Izaan looked about as calm as I felt, which was barely.