THE PRIDE OF THE PAKI

To Nurse And Curse The Guy

Remember when I said, 'time for action'? Yeah that was when I actually had a plan. I took out my phone and called the contact I had recently saved. But Charlie was apparently stuck with a friend who needed desperate help. He sounded apologetic even before I told him the matter and asked him where he was and if he could come over. So i decided it better not to tell him of Luke's condition. God knows what I'm gonna do now. My mind is literally devoid of any bright ideas.

The perfect guy with shocking black hair and looks girls in the school are often seen swooning over lies on the floor of my little apartment, his head rested on the bed, so he is practically in a sitting position. His hands have fallen over to the sides and his head hangs lifeless, his chin making contact with the bare skin exposed due the fact that quite a lot of the buttons of his black shirt are open.

Hmm, that's distracting for sure....

Wait, what? Allah Allah, what am I doing?! I am a very good and proud Muslim who refrains from swooning over guys who appear perfect, like those silly little girly things at school.

But I have to do something. Oh Allah, what do I do? Not to mention his bleeding nose. I quickly grab some tissues and wipe the blood off. The flow hems after some time and I pull back cautiously, half expecting him to open his eyes and make some snarky remark about my nationality, the bloody smirk planted on his face. But that doesn't happen. The guy lies motionless and innocent as a baby, fast asleep. He almost looks adorable lying there. Oh, no, not again! I think I'm really tired today and my brain's gone all haywire.

Okay, back to business. I can't keep him here on the floor. That's not how you treat a guest, no matter how weird they are and the consequences may be. So I take in a deep breath and, sitting down beside him, slide and arm around his waist. Allah forgive me, I really don't know what to do in this foreign country with no one to help me. I sling his arm over my shoulder and, taking a deep breath, apply full force to pull us both up.

I don't think its very hard to imagine what happened next. Believe me, I have been known for lifting up heavy things. I used to lift the furniture in our house when Ammi got into mood for intense cleaning. I used to lift bags of rice and flour, because, really, back at home, I was the boy of our home. And the girl, too, when my parents wanted me to be. But this guy, I swear, he weighed like a ton. I mean, I've lifted a very heavy little cousin of mine a lot of times when he slept on the sofa and I carried him off to the bed room. But, this guy, did he have lead in him, or what? I heave and push, but I doubt I lifted him more than an inch. I give up and am about to collapse under his weight, when a familiar voice rings in my ears like a sweet melody.

"Oye, little girl, what the heck are ya tryin' to do?!" The relief after hearing the voice fills me like air in a balloon. I look up and watch as Mark, the security guard of the building make his way into my room through the open door. "Here, lemme help."

He picks up Luke in one easy, swift motion like you watch those romantic heroes lift up their heroins in those stupid romantic movies. He then place him on my bed, him still fast asleep, unaware of the problems he has caused. I supress a sudden, strong desire to punch the guy in the nose.

"T-thank you Mark.: I manage to gasp, still struggling for air, which had nothing to do with the slight asthma I've had since my birth.

"No problem, Kiran. But what were you doing? What's going on? Who is this?" He gestures suspiciously towards Luke, sleeping without a worry in the world on in bed.

"He's my... class fellow" I manage to introduce. "Why he's here? I have no idea. He just turned up and fainted. I have no idea what's going on."

Mark gives me a sympathetic look. "Its okay." He assures me. "I'm here on this floor tonight, on duty. I'll help with whatever you want, okay?"