Trust You [TRUE STORY]

Chapter 41

Important message at the end of the chapter. Please read it -Emaan

We were having breakfast at this fancy buffet place where they had rich food that looked like it took hours to cook. Also looked like it was expensive as hell and only top notch business men can afford this place. Anyways, I have no idea who's going to pay for this place.

"I paid for your laptop." He mentioned, "All you have to do is pay for this breakfast and we're good."

We had already eaten the food so there was obviously no way out of this calamity. Either I pay or he pays and I don't really back down without a fight.

Especially when my bank account is suffering from how broke I actually am.

"That's because you spilt water all over it." I crossed my arms, "I don't even have a job jackass. Pay for the food-"

"I pay for every single thing in the house." He smirks, "I paid for your gas. I pay for your car gas every week-"

"I don't have a job." I say once again.

"I payed for your hair dye. Two of your piercings and four pairs of shoes within the past year—"

"There was a sale!"

"Point is," he pauses to smile at me in defeat, "I pay for everything. I've seen your bank account before and there is some stuff in there."

"Yeah like four dollars."

"More like four thousand."

I covered my mouth, looking around the restaurant to make sure no one has heard these hue accusations, "Sir it is haram to lie."

"I'm not lying."

For a minute I rolled my eyes. I was scared to see the bill but I knew that if I was argumentative and a huge negotiator, then Yassef was that twice more.

The waiter came by with a receipt in his hands. I was anxious, fiddling with my fingers. This is the last bit or real money that I have in my bank card and if this passes a hundred dollars, I'm leaving.

I took a deep breath, then looked at Yassef. He gave me a cheeky grin before winking and my heart did a cartwheel.

"Here's the bill." Says the kid.

I took it, clearing my throat before giving it the grandmother face where they squint their eyes and bring the slippery piece of paper closer. I gawked at the bill, the amount of commas in between  the numbers almost had falling off my chair.

And right in front of me was Yassef, laughing historically. He hardly made a sound but a few wheezing ones before pulling back, a smile largely on his face. When his eyes opened, he tried to speak, "how much?"

"Two hundred and ninety one dollars and fifty six cents?" I screeched, "How much do you eat!"

"I'm a growing man."

I had no idea where all the food he ate even goes to. Yassef and "gaining weight" is almost never in the same sentence.

I took my card out reading to swipe it painfully when Yassef's hand had interfeared in my hier film and quickly swiped his blue one instead. Tucking it into his sweater, he smiled at me, "Save your money."

I felt a breath of relief take over. But at the same time I felt useless, like I had almost never paid for anything before. So I slumped my shoulders, "I could've  paid for that."

"No." He stood up, pushing his chair in, "That's my job."

"But you pay for everything."

"That's also my job."