When Silver Met Gold

Chapter 2 - The Competition

"When I first saw you I knew you were something else; something...unusual."

It was quiet here, or was it quiet inside me? I stared at the door, not paying attention to my surroundings. Was I waiting for someone? A mocking grin spread on my lips. Like someone would come for me.

A loud screech that nearly split my eardrums into two snapped me back into attention. I covered my ear instinctively, grimacing.

Today was the speech competition. The huge auditorium was lit with beautiful yellow lights. The walls had huge paintings depicting mystics adorned with swirling cloaks and pointed hats, and silvery swans that looked like they would take flight right off the wall. People were seated on the maroon chairs. The organizers walked on the wooden stage, watching the arrangements, managing everything.

From my spot in the first row on the left side, I could see nearby contestants glancing at the papers in their hands, mumbling under their breaths. Others chattered easily with one another, introducing themselves.

My eyes darted around, contemplating the students -- especially those who talked in groups and letting loose a loud mixture of girly and boyish laughter. I saw girls setting their dupattas on their heads. Some glanced at their reflection in the mirrors in their hands. I was dressed in one of my mother's dresses as Uncle Mubashir had requested me to wear it. It was a long black shirt and palazzo pants and the matching dupatta. My classmate Tooba had helped me with setting the dupatta on my head with pins. It was fixed on my head but still, the entire dress was too much for me to handle. I was praying in my head I wouldn't trip while walking onto the stage.

A tall guy with tanned skin seated a few rows away from me stood up. He turned towards his friend beside him.

"I need to practice." He looked quite tortured and nervous as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

His friend nodded and stood up along with him, and they both walked up the aisle towards the backdoor. A tiny smile made its way to my lips; I was fully prepared and confident enough to win. I didn't have a paper in my hand, it would make me forget everything I had memorized if I kept looking at it. I needed to relax before I went onto the stage.

We still had an hour before the competition started. The judges had not arrived yet, and neither had the professors. Then all of a sudden, out of the pleasant hubbub of socializing students, a panic spread through from the group of organizers. Their conversation could be heard from two miles away.

"Where is Aaliyan?" a girl shouted, capturing my attention first.

"I don't know," a bearded guy angrily exclaimed. I recognized him as the president of the youth council of our university. "And that idiot is not picking up the phone."

"We're doomed!" another girl cried immediately in response and flopped onto the chair. "What are we gonna do? Oh my God, why do you do this Aaliyan?"

"What did I do?"

The attractive voice oozing a calm and yet vibrant undertone instantly caught my attention. It carried the velvet of chocolate and the warmth of the sun in winters. It was euphonious; my eyes snapped in its direction as I breathed slowly. There he stood, with a naughty glint in his very unique, enigmatic brown eyes speckled with golden flecks. In this light, his eyes gleamed like a treasure chest. They were captivating. They were a pool of kept secrets and hidden mysteries, yet they sparkled with intelligence and sagacity.

His hands were busy knotting his red tie. I didn't realize I was holding my breath. Until he walked past me to join his friends and his intoxicating cologne hit my nose.