After flying overseas to enroll in a prestigious boarding school, Blake Graham assumes that she can finally catch a break.
Instead, she encounters the boy who she fought with almost every day as a child.
After moving back to England, then over to...
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After my last couple of blocks, I escaped back to my room. With all the re-occuring questions, I became easily mentally exhausted.
I had about an hour to relax, before I could get ready for my night out, so I did just that. I napped. After what felt like minutes of peacefulness, I awoke to see that it was already dark out, and I had like, half an hour before I had to leave. So with the gracefulness of a newborn horse, I pulled on a new outfit, fixed my makeup, and tied up my hair.
I left the room donned in a red Chanel romper, a pair of white Miu Miu sneakers, and my gold Cartier bangle. I think I did pretty well for fifteen minutes. I slipped my credit card into my phone case, and left the dormitories to head towards Neuchâtel's "square".
Ten minutes later, I arrived in front of the Indian restaurant Sarah and I had agreed on. In the dim evening lights Mumbai Bistro glowed a brilliant gold color. The smell of fresh naan wafted outside, and I immediately realized how hungry I was. The coffee I had earlier did nothing for my hunger. I entered the restaurant to immediately see Sarah in a corner booth, twiddling with her phone.
The girl was wearing a salmon colored pair of self-tie pants and a pearly white shirt, all designer of course. "Rochester! Sorry I'm late, I overslept," I immediately apologized. Sarah simply grinned and motioned for me to sit down. "You're all good Graham, ready to have some of the best Indian food ever?"
"For sure, but do you wanna go ahead and order for me? I haven't really a clue about what any of this is," I motioned to the menu, which had a wide variety of food choices.
"You got it, I'll just call the waiter. Would you like an iced chai? It's not like a chai latte like at Starbucks, you know maybe you would like an iced tea, or a coff--" I immediately cut her off with a grin "I'll take an iced chai,"
"Oh shoot! Sorry about the blabbering it happens all the time, I just go on and on an-- I'm doing it again aren't I? You know what, I'll just call the waiter over, Arjun ham ordar karane ke lie taiyaar hain!" Her English immediately switching into a foreign dialect as she ordered our food.
"Wow you speak Hindi?"
"A little yeah, but I'm fluent in Urdu actually," she smiled. Wow, I mean those are some of the hardest foreign languages to learn apparently. Damn, I only know French and English.
"Oh so are you Pakistani? They speak Urdu there if I'm correct?"
"You're right, but actually I'm North Indian. Well myparents are. What about you? Any special heritage?"
I thought about it, and my mind immediately shifted to thinking about the blonde haired woman on the poster back at the boutique. "Yeah actually my mom is--uhm--was French and Har--my dad is American but he has some Italian and Scottish heritage. But my mom was originally from France, she went to America for some of her modeling shoots, after a while she moved to New York and met my uhm-- dad," The words bitter on my tongue, thinking about my mom brought waves of nostalgia throughout my body. My dad on the other hand...
