That toxic guy

13| I Wish They Showed It

Sana's pov

I always walked three steps behind him to his left. Anything that comes toward him from behind, I encountered first. I can clearly see what advances to his right and his left. I also have my sights on what approaches ahead.

But he slowed his pace to walk next to me.

"Am I going fast?" he asked, coming a little closer down to my height.

"No! Th-that's fine" I said, panting. "Answer something for me, will you?"

"Yeah shoot" he said closing the zip of his black leather jacket.

"Before we 'shoot' do you have any guns with you right now?" I asked, stepping back, moving away from him.

"I wouldn't just randomly take out a gun in public, would I?" he smiled more like smirked.

"So does that mean you have one?!?" I screamed my lungs out.

"No no. I don't. Shush"

"Phew!" I put a hand on my chest. "Where are we going by the way?" I questioned, glancing over my shoulder.

"Follow me" he said, taking the lead.

"That's what I'm doing right?" I stated, confused.

Soon a cafe came in my view.

Winter was just around the corner. It was my first time in this coffee shop. I could see the cheerful and brilliant lighting of the shop as I walked across the vast parking lot. There were tables outside the shop each with a brown vintage style umbrella.

This particular coffee shop is not a cafe, it's a coffee shop literally. I heard they sell the finest coffee from all over the world. It also has a book corner on the left-hand side of the shop where we can buy books. They make a very good coffee as well.

This little shop was located on the quieter side of Seattle, sandwiched between a paper supply store and a fancy ramen shop.

This place is an ideal place for students and employees to release stress I thought.

As I made my way through the transparent glass door, a blanket of warm air hit me and the rich aroma of coffee which was delectable.

The noise the customers made was immense which reminded me how popular a place this is.

We made our way to the coffee bar at the end of the shop made of reclaimed wood. A barista stood before me. He welcomed us with a charming smile.

I got my cup of Americano and paid for it in the next counter, and he did the same for his black coffee.

Black coffee ugh!

The aged wooden floor creaked beneath me as I was walking towards my table. I made myself comfortable on a bulky wooden chair.

"Sit" he pulled out a chair for me.

"Thanks" I mumbled.

When I was about to take the first sip of my cup of coffee the looks of the cup caught my eye. It had a very rich vintage look itself. The cup was in white and the details were in bronze. The fresh hot coffee warmed my palms as I took the first sip. The invigorating smoky taste was heavenly.

How come I not know about this place?

My mind was blank and no words came out from my mouth.

As I lifted my eye from the cup, a group of attractive young teens got in.
Adam cleared his throat to grab my attention back to him.

"Ask as many as questions you want to. I'll answer" he said, leaning back on his chair.

"Uhm so who were those guys?"

OK, but the croissant's smell was almost impossible to ignore, so I had to look back at the counter, to watch the blonde lady serve a plate. The small coffee shop smelled of caramel, cream, and vanilla.

Ugh.

"I'm afraid that's classified information"

"So what's the use?" I shrugged.

"They were my dealers" he gave in.

"Huh? Deal what?" I asked, horrified.

"Stuff" he retorted.

"You don't make any sense right now, you know that right?" almost rolled my eyes at the end.

"Oh really?"

His question was interrupted by the ring on my phone cell.

I looked at the caller ID and saw my sister's name flash on the screen.

"Assalamualaikum?"

"Walaikum Assalam. Get back now! Dad's home" she yelled, but in an enthusiastic way.

"What?" I gasped.

"Yes c'mon"

I immediately cut the call and stood up from my chair.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home" I replied.

"I'll drop you" he stated.

"No thanks I'll manage"

*******************

I quickly ran home, with all my energy, panting, stopping then catching my breath, and then again running.

I miss my mom and dad. If someone had told me that I would feel this way when I was 16-years-old, I would've laughed and said "Yeah right. My parents sort of suck..."

When I was eleven, my father moved to Los Angeles to start a new business, which left me with a mother who, by all accounts, was quickly unraveling.

Now I'm sort of obsessed with them. I miss them all the time and I know for a fact that I call my father more than he calls me. It's funny to think about how tumultuous the relationships used to be. I recall the things I used to say to them as a surly teenager and cringe. How could I be so cruel to the people who loved me the most? Then I remember that that's how it usually works. You hurt the people you love the most because you can.

My family isn't normal. Big surprise. What families are? But when I went away to college and was introduced to a diverse group of friends, I would hear stories about their upbringings and be horrified. As much as I felt like my parents had done a crappy job raising me, I couldn't BELIEVE what some other people went through. I no longer had a right to complain.

Alhamdullilah for everything.

As flawed as I felt my parents were, they loved me to pieces. That's something I assumed all parents felt for their children but after hearing about other people's experiences, I became not so sure. Was it possible for a parent to not love their own child? Even today I don't know the answer to this and it's probably something I'll never know. When it comes to other people's families, you don't have much insight into what is really going on behind closed doors.

During college, I began to appreciate my parents more. Absence had certainly made my heart grow fonder and it's only increased since I've graduated. In the past year or two, I've frequently felt "unsafe." I don't mean to say that I think someone is going to break into my home and kill me.

Deep down I know my parents love but I wish they showed it too.

Hii🐥