BRAVE THE SEASONS

PART FOUR

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

When I arrive to class that morning Ali was already sitting in the back where I usually sat. I walked up silently and sat down in the desk beside him. He had his laptop set out and his headphones plugged in and seemed very busy with what I assumed was coursework so I didn't want to bother him. Instead, I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through my Instagram feed.

After a few moments, he removed his headphones and turned to me with a smile, "Hi Eman, how are you this morning?" Somehow he always seemed to be in the best of moods. Which was the sheer opposite of me, who's usual mood was pensive at best.

"I'm okay, desperately in need of coffee though," I sighed setting my face against the cool desk. He laughed at me, his pearly white smile sparkling under the fluorescent lights.

"Do you want some of mine?" he asked, pushing his Starbucks cup towards me. I instantly blushed at the thought of putting my lips over the same place he had put his, stupidly thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. I wanted to punch myself for that thought.

I shook my head. "No that's okay, I'll just grab some after class." I told him pushing the cup back in his direction.

We both fell into silence again although he wasn't enjoying it. I could tell there were words on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say.

I sat up straight; looking at him expectantly. "Just say what you want to say."

He laughed again "It's nothing. I was just thinking, now that we're friends, we should get to know each other better that's all."

I sat in silence for a second, thinking about opening up to someone like him. I had never been truly myself with anyone before other than members of my family and the thought frightened me. I had never realized that being friends with Ali meant I would have to open myself up to him. Tell him the inner workings of my mind or speak of the pain that I carried around in my heart at all times. The more I thought about it, the tighter my chest felt and the harder it was to breathe. I was sure before him I looked like a crazy person.

I pushed down the lump in my throat, "O-okay, what do you want to know?"

He hummed, thrumming his fingers against the desk. I assumed he was trying to think of something inappropriate to ask me.

"What is your favorite color?"

I blew out a sigh of relief, "Blue, I guess."

"Nice." He looked thoughtful again for a moment, formulating a second question. "I noticed you're very quiet," he stated, "Much quieter than your siblings, why is that?"

I looked down at my hands, which had curled into fists in my lap, unsure of how to answer. I wanted to say I had always been quiet but that wasn't the truth. Up until last year, I was a happy, bubbly, normal Pakistani-American girl. One with whimsical dreams and aspirations; a bright student and a good friend. But I didn't know how to say that. I didn't know how to put into words the fact that my older cousin Noor, someone I saw as my sister and best friend had taken her own life last year, which had left my heart broken, and my soul empty. It had changed me, so much so that I had become a hollow shell of the person I used to be and I could never be the same again. It had left me with wounds and scars that even time couldn't fill. But how could I ever possibly put that all into words, especially for someone like Ali, who waltzed around always so cheerful and carefree.

I looked up again and he was watching me intently, his eyes soft and searching my own. Students piled into the room and filled the seats around us but we were unaffected, far too occupied by one another's entrapping gaze. His eyes had a way of captivating me, they were deep and sparkly and held so much emotion that when I locked with them, time seemed to stop.