Ten Years

Chapter Two

Casablanca, October 2006, on a Friday evening.

It was supposed to be a night of fun.

Yasmine was hosting a party in their shared flat. The official reason: wish Leïla a safe travel as she was leaving the next day on a trip that would define her career – and her life, even if she didn't know it at the time.

But Leïla knew why Yasmine was throwing a party. It was just another excuse to have fun.

Any other day, Leïla would've welcomed the interlude. The feeling that anything was possible on a Friday evening after a week of hard work. The idea of an endless night to celebrate with friends and food and drinks and music and maybe even an outing to one of the many trendy clubs on the shore of the city.

Leïla and Yasmine shared a two-bedroom flat in one of the new high rises. From the floor to ceiling windows of the living room, Casablanca stretched in every direction. Small, big, old and new buildings occupied the view, their satellite dishes covering the surface of the roofs and balconies. They had moved into this flat three months ago and Leïla still marvelled at the blue of the Atlantic Ocean and at the clouds descending on the peak of the impressive mosque – said to be the largest one in Africa.

"Ce-le-brate-good-times, come oooon!" Leïla could hear Yasmine singing off-key in the shower and she laughed despite her gloomy mood.

The two knew each other from business school. They met on the first day of their first year, paired together in some mild hazing activity for freshmen. They were asked to jog in the campus' outdoor empty swimming pool while making various animal sounds. Leïla had grinned the whole time earning her the Colgate nickname – one that Yasmine proudly gave her that day.

Leïla would have loved to party on this Friday evening, even if she had an early flight to catch. But she was not in the mood. Her boyfriend of more than nine months just called in the afternoon to end their relationship with the most overused line ever. "It's me, not you," he had said before she could understand what the fuck was happening.

The bastard had called when she was at work knowing that she would never lose her temper or make a scene while she was there. He counted on that, in fact.

Leïla was hurt and heartbroken and angry; angry with him but also with herself for believing their relationship was going somewhere, anywhere. All she wanted to do was hug Mister Bear, her childhood teddy bear, and bury herself deep in her bed.

Instead, she needed to be in the living room, plastering her Colgate smile and answering stupid questions about why her stupid boyfriend wasn't at the stupid party.

"Leïla!" called Yasmine from her room. She walked towards her and found her putting on her shiny high heeled boots. Her friend, a petite blonde - in every way Leïla's opposite, could not be seen without high heels. They were part of her raison d'être, she would say. To be or not to be was not the ultimate question, she would argue once she had a drink too many. Heels or no heels, that was the ultimate question for which only one answer mattered: four-inch heels thank you very much.

Leïla stood at the doorframe.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" asked Yasmine as she looked her friend over.

"Please tell me that's not why you called me," answered Leïla.

Yasmine rolled her eyes and turned around. "Zip me up, will you?"

"I'm just wearing these tonight," added Leïla smoothing her high waist jeans after she zipped up Yasmine's dress. She knew they were out of fashion but she didn't care. "Not planning to stick around. You know I have an early plane to catch, right?"

Yasmine, satisfied with her looks, looked around and squinted her eyes. "When did that ever stop you? Are you alright?"

Leïla paused before answering. She didn't want to spoil the evening for her friend. Her strong emotions usually culminated in tears and if she let those run free, Yasmine would cancel the whole thing just to comfort Leïla, share a pint of ice cream and plan fifty ways to torture the bastard.

But she didn't want to. Not tonight.

"Nothing. Just a bit nervous about tomorrow. Have never been to the US, and still need to pack my bag and make sure everything is in order." The doorbell ringing saved her from Yasmine's nosey questions.

By the time it was ten in the evening all their friends were present and the party was in full swing.

Leïla walked around, trying to enjoy herself - a task that proved to be difficult as everyone kept asking her about the whereabouts of her now ex-boyfriend. She tried to dodge the questions the best she could telling everyone who asked that he was running late. But her brain was screaming with disbelief and confusion. She needed to understand why this had happened. Were there any signs she may have missed? Granted, he had been a bit distant the past weeks, picking arguments with her when there was no reason to. But she hadn't paid much attention to that. He could be moody sometimes.

"It's me, not you," he had said. She wanted to call him, talk to him, debate him why the relationship ended. If it was indeed him, and not her, why did she have to suffer? Why did he have to end things? Anger quickly chased the disbelief and confusion she felt earlier. And now, she just wanted to scream at him and tell him how much of a coward he was.

Instead, Leïla found herself wedged in the sofa between Yasmine and someone she vaguely knew and reluctantly joined in the conversation about the merits of a MySpace page. Kill me now. She didn't have a MySpace page and had zero interest in having one. Pretending she had to refill her glass, she finally snuck into her bedroom in the back of the flat.

After a painful hour of packing, she was finally ready. She checked that her passport and flight tickets were safely tucked in her backpack, along with her favourite book, iPod, a small bag of toiletries and light snacks for the long flight.

Sitting on the bed, she held her one-eyed worn teddy bear in her hands. "Mister Bear, would you like to come to San Francisco with me?"

"Talking to yourself again?"

Nass entered the room and engulfed her tall figure in a tight hug. She laughed in her deep voice and warmth bloomed in her chest. God, she loved him like the brother she never had.

Leïla and Nass had first met in high school, playing in the same mixed-gender basketball team. They quickly became best friends and remained close even when Nass went to study in France for his engineering degree, even when he moved to the UK for his master's degree in Finance. Now he was in town for a short holiday and spent every evening at her place.

"You know me too well," answered Leïla.

"Why are you hiding in your room?" asked Nass as he lay on her bed, putting his right hand under his head and patting the space beside him. 

Leïla climbed into the bed and lay next to him. "I'm not hiding, just packing for my flight."

Nass wasn't easily fooled. Without looking at her he said, "You don't look so well."

Leïla tried to laugh but it came out weak. Her throat grew tight.  She had been holding her emotions for the whole day, naively thinking she could just power through her break-up. But all it took was Nass squeezing her arm to feel the silent streams of tears on her face.

She managed to tell Nass a condensed version of the day's event. Not that there was much to tell him anyway. She could feel his body tense beside her as he clenched the hand that was laying between them into fists.

Nass mumbled something under his breath then said, "I just need to have his home address so that... you know, I can have a chat with him."

She laughed and snorted through her tears. "He is so not worth it."

"I know. But you are."