Downtown Boy

b o n u s: Junaid's story

Junaid's pov:

I didn't know when it happened. When I first got a glimpse of her? When I first got entrapped in her little giggles? Her cold glares passed to everyone when she was annoyed?

It was unexpected.

I first saw her before we met, it was the evening of  7th July and I was on a walk near my neighborhood to get to know the place,  when I stopped by at the closest place to grab something.

It had been a little over a month since moving to a different place, away from people I knew and it was exhausting. Being in my late 20's, I found it horrifying, having to leave the house, talk to people and staying up late, I just wasn't used to immediate work. My apartment didn't even have couches, I stayed on the bed.

It was a cry at first, a child, it sounded like they were in pain, I just didn't give it much thought, not bothering to look back while I ordered what I wanted. A burger? Or should I get a wrap?

The cry quietened down a few seconds later, but followed by a bunch of other intentional cries and a laugh- more of a giggle that tickled my ears and gave me goosebumps.

A girl sat at the corner of the booth, a few children around her, a toddler on her lap. Her scarf neatly wrapped around her head, her arms wrapped around the child tightly while she threw her head back, nose scrunching, cheeks puffed and eyes squinted.

One by one, she took their hands and pressed a kiss, asking them if it was better now, before looking up and standing up, taking them with her and walking to an elder lady that stood at the entrance. The girl had her eyebrows raised and a tight smile- it wasn't taunting-, raising her hand to show her something.

I think back now, maybe that was the day I fell. 

******

The second time, we'd met.

A month had passed, and eventually I forgot about her.

It was August 12th, around half past 6, I was invited to the company's gathering. We were all sitting around the table, I didn't understand some of the things, Arabic wasn't my best language, I could do it as long as reading, but making sentences were hard.

It wasn't that they didn't know English, the Boss thought the more they talked in their native language, the more I would learn.

"انها متأخرة؟" She's late?  A woman asked, turning to the Boss, who just waved her off, sighing.

"She's always late."

That's when someone comes in walking fast, the back of her heel hitting the ground loudly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Asalamualaikum." 

She stood behind my chair, her arm resting on the top while I heard her breathing heavily, "ركض حرفيا هنا." Literally ran here.

I didn't notice the chair being pulled from beside me, even though it squeaked enough that the people on the other side of the restaurant heard.

I couldn't see her face, her scarf hid it from my side, she rummaged through her purse, fixing the coat she wore at the same time. Taking something out, she snapped her head to me, her mouth shutting and forming into a small embarrassed smile.

"Shit, I thought you were someone else." Pursing her lips and looking away blushing. She looked familiar. 

"You must be new, I'm Kinzah, I work at the management department." She introduces herself, I'm not usually this late.

Thee woman that first asked where she was pipes in, "It's ironic that she got a job at the management, trust me, she doesn't know how to follow time."