Dark Faïz ( Book 1 ) [ COMPLETED]

Chapters 9-1

The heat wave of the last five days was unbearable. Despite the air conditioning in the house, the heat had embedded itself in the walls, making it impossible to completely cool the rooms. It was only four in the morning and my forehead oozed at the slightest effort I made. I was struggling to fill my suitcase, not really knowing what to put in it. In New York in January, I had to expect a much more polar temperature. However, some freshness would not hurt me, since if I had been put in an oven at that time, I would not have seen any difference. We could hardly set foot on the streets of Los Angeles, the air was so heavy and suffocating.

I went to the bathroom to get my last toiletries and then combed my hair, making with two big braids, one on each side of my head. I wanted to be confident during my whole trip. It was then that I heard my phone vibrating, which was sitting on my bed. I rushed to it immediately. Faïz. My heart raced.

I'm in front of the villa.

I'm coming.

I threw my toiletries in my suitcase and hurried to close it. The corridor was plunged in darkness. My cell phone lit my path as I went downstairs. I turned on the living room light to take a last look at it so I wouldn't forget anything important. I then put on my pair of Stan Smiths and opened the door of the villa. When Faïz saw me appear, he got out of his McLaren dressed in a polo shirt and brown canvas low-waist pants, and rushed to help me put my suitcase in the trunk even though it didn't weigh much. We were only leaving for three days, and considering the personality of the person I was with, I didn't think I would have any fiesta evenings. I sat in the car, soaked, and the air conditioning immediately revived me. The fresh air made me want to live again.

— "You can rest a little if you want. It'll be almost thirty minutes before we arrive at the airport," Faïz informed me.

His voice was low and kind to me.

— "It's all right, I had a good rest," I lied.

I had been unable to stand still for the last week, for two reasons: the first was that I was excited at the idea of writing my first article for the magazine. The second, much more laughable, was sharing this moment just with him. I still remembered the very early morning phone call David had made to me at work, almost a week earlier while he was in the halls of the university.

— "Zoe, you're never going to believe me. Don't hurt yourself by jumping all over the place. No sprains or broken voices tomorrow. No—"

— "Damn it! Spit it out, David! I'm literally liquefying on the spot, and I have to save my energy just to stay alive right now!"

— "Rachelle and Faïz. It's over," he said, excited.

The phone handset, held a few centimeters from my ear to prevent it from sticking to my skin, crashed into my temple.

— "Stop messing with me, David. Okay, tell me everything. When? Where? How, and at what time?" I whispered, interested.

— "I'll tell you all about it at noon at The Teagan. See you later."

— "No! Don't hang up!" I begged him. "It's barely nine o'clock. I can't wait."

David hung up on me without saying anything. I guessed he must have been very proud of his little effect. The longest morning of my life had just begun.