Scarred For Life

Chapter 5

*
"So," Fahad said the moment he shut the door behind him, "apparently you're my cousin."

Afrah didn't reply as she walked towards the car, her heart threatening to burst from her chest.

"Umma says we used to play together when we were children, but I don't seem to recall something like that happening at all," he continued.

Still, she remained silent.

"Are you naturally quiet, or you just don't like me?" he asked.

'A little bit of both' she wanted to say, but she held her tongue and simply shook her head.

Shrugging, Fahad opened the car door on the passengers side and stepped aside. Afrah stood a few feet away, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Please step back," she said softly. Fahad narrowed his eyes at her, but he took a step back nonetheless. Keeping her eyes glued to the floor, she stuck her head into the car and searched for the charger, all the while feeling his eyes on her. The thought made her skin crawl.

Nearly five minutes later, it was apparent that the charger wasn't there. Giving up, Afrah withdrew from the car and turned towards the house.

"Wait!" Fahad said as he held the door open. "May I please have a word with you?" He asked.

"What for?" she asked.

"It won't take more than a minute," he said. "I promise."

Afrah shook her head as she began to back away. "I'm sorry, but..."

"Please," he said, calmly but firmly.

Slowing her breathing, she turned and walked towards the car. A languid smile on his face, Fahad stepped aside and allowed her to step into the car, shutting the door after her. He quickly walked around the car and hopped in himself, shutting the door with a resounding bang.

Almost immediately, Afrah began to breath rapidly. She had the uneasy feeling of being trapped, and the car seemed to be shrinking in around her. It didn't help that Fahad's perfume filled the car, a strong scent which made her head dizzy.

"Forgive me for asking," he said, "but I believe you are in your early twenties, is that correct?"

She nodded simply.

"And you are about to graduate from the university?" He asked.

She nodded again.

"Okay," he nodded slowly. "Afrah, let me be blunt with you. When I came back to Nigeria, the first thing Umma spoke to me about was you. I know I have hundreds of cousins from her side of the family, but I didn't know about you, if I'm honest."

Not sure where he was going, Afrah stared down at her fingers as she counted the seconds away in her mind.

"She told me you were a responsible young lady, religious, decent, well-mannered and intelligent," he continued. "Naturally, I decided that I would like to see you. Neither one of us is a child, so I'm sure you can understand that her plan was to set us up."

She turned to look at him, but immediately looked away as he was staring too intently.

"Just from meeting you today, I can tell you are a very modest and responsible lady," he continued. "And you're very beautiful, if I must admit."

Afrah looked up at the front door, desperately wishing she could escape through it.

"I would like to get to know you a bit more, if you'll let me," he said. "But I'll have you know that I'm looking for a serious relationship, not some silly throwaway romance that will last a few months. When I date someone, I do so with the intention of finding out if she would make a good wife or not. You've caught my attention, and I would like to explore this connection between us and see where it goes."

He paused, waiting for her to say something; anything. The silence stretched on between them, and he tapped his finger on the steering wheel slowly.

"Aren't you going to say something?" he asked.

"Can I go now?" she asked, still not looking up at him.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked with a slight frown. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm not in the mood to talk," she said.

"And why is that?"

"Because I don't want to," she said irritatingly. He was beginning to frighten her, with his overly aggressive approach and the way her stared at her like she was a piece of meat.

"You know," he said with a cold glare in his eyes, "I really don't see all those things mother was saying about you," he said.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you," she said before she threw the door open and stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Fahad watched as she walked back towards the house, mildly upset but immensely impressed by her change in attitude.

*

"There you are," aunt Safiya chortled as she stepped into the living room once again. "I completely forgot that it was right here with me," she held up the charger.

Afrah smiled weakly as she headed towards the stairs.

"Fahad held you up with his long talks, didn't he?" she pressed on. "He has always struggled with the tendency to try and flatter women the first time he meets them, bless him. He never knows when to quite."

"Well, he's a charming young man, isn't he?" Umma smiled, her eyes trained on Afrah. The latter nodded weakly before she dashed up the stairs, towards the sanctuary of her bedroom.

It was just as she opened the door that Amina opened her own door, poking her head out. "Psst!" she whispered, "get in here."

"What is it?" she groaned.

"Just get in here," Amina said before she withdrew into the room. Cursing under her breath, Afrah turned and entered her sister's bedroom instead.

Iman was sitting on the bed, while Amina leaned against the wardrobe with a sly grin on her face. The bedroom was a mirror image of Afrah's, except for the fact that Amina had dozens of shoes lined beside the door, unlike her.

"So," she smirked, "how was it?"

"How was what?" Afrah frowned at her.

"Your little chat with Fahad, of course," she said. "What did you guys talk about?"

"I honestly don't have time for this," Afrah turned and opened the door.

"Don't mind my brother," Iman said. "Ever since he returned to the country, he's been strutting about with his chest puffed out like he's more important than everyone else. I swear it's like living with a stranger."

Afrah held the door open, but she didn't leave the room.

"You should have seen the way Umma and aunt Safiya were talking excitedly when you two went out together," Amina said. "You'd think he just professed his undying love for you to both of them."

"That's what they are hoping for," Iman said with a giggle. "I overheard them talking over the phone yesterday, and they were hoping he would make a good impression on her. That was why he even decided to drop us off instead of the driver. You should have heard the way mother was praising you throughout the week."

"Well, I'm sure he's sorely disappointed now," Afrah said boredly. "He seems to be labouring under the delusion that we both have a connection after barely ten minutes of meeting each other."

"He's gone a bit soft in the head if you ask me," Iman said. All three of them laughed at that. Iman then proceeded to do a very good imitation of him, strutting across the length of the bedroom with her head held high and her arms clasped firmly at her side. Amina and Afrah laughed at that.

Meanwhile, just downstairs, aunt Safiya received a message notification. Absentmindedly, she picked up the phone and unlocked it. It was a message from Fahad:

You were right, mother. She is the one.

*