Chapter 12

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    “So, do you still smoke?” Dalia repeated herself when she got no response.

    “No, I actually forgot that I did.” I answered blankly.

    “Good. We should probably go back to our seats.” She pointed out when she noticed the hostess that’s probably been staring at us from a distance for the past five minutes.

    “Wait, how can I know that this won’t be our last conversation? Can’t we meet somewhere when we land?”

    She sighed, and sounded a bit disappointed by what I just said, “Look, Haman I’m not the type of girl who does things like that. I don’t even talk to guys much besides the ones from my school. And you,” She stopped to recall our conversation and to find a decent explanation for why it went the way it did, “well, I guess I should apologize for the way I acted, and spoke, but it was nice talking to you.” She was about to turn around and walk, but when she saw the sadness in my eyes she continued, “But look, we met half way across the world on an airplane far away from home, so the odds of us meeting each other back in Bahrain shouldn’t be so low, right?”

    I smiled like a baby, “You’re right.”

    “One last thing, please don’t take any of this the wrong way, if I will ever be in a relationship with a guy, we’ll have to be married, and that’s it.”

    And just like that, her last sentence kept running around in my head. It gave me a new perspective. She was right, and that made me respect her even more. Why should I look for relationships now if they probably won’t even last? I’m young and I have at least ten years to find my future wife. I should be focusing on the present; focus on my current problems and issues.

    I sat back on my seat, relaxed my neck and started to recall an incident that occurred to me a few days before I travelled.

    Talal made a small summer gathering at his house, for us to spend time together one last time before everyone went on their family trips. There was a group of people who were seated around a table playing UNO, a couple of guys were playing darts at one of the corners of the wide house, and a few girls were chattering non-stop, on the brown sofa in the living room, while having snacks. Of course the place didn’t look very familiar to me since I lost my memory, so I decided to have a look around the house, to perhaps help regain a few missing puzzles of my past.

    I took a walk through the house, smiling at the sight of my friends’ embarrassing baby pictures. I paced further more towards their dining table, and admired the chandelier that hung above it. I grabbed a red apple from the center of the table, and made my way towards the kitchen, but stopped when I heard my name on Malak’s tongue.

     “When are you going to tell Abdulrahman about all of this?” Malak asked seriously.

    “I think it would be better if he just never knew.” The familiar voice answered.

    “Noor, you promised you’d talk to him about the accident when he regains his memory and when he’s back to normal, and we made sure he’s back to normal three months ago!” Malak sounded like she was yelling at her own daughter; I’ve never heard her speak so seriously. That was what kept away from entering the kitchen. I knew that if I interrupted the conversation will stop and I’ll never know what’s the secret they have been hiding away from me, so I wrapped my tongue and attached feet to the ground, to make sure I wouldn’t make a sound.

    “Malak,” Noor grumbled, “You know if I did talk to him about it, everything between us will go down hill.” What are you two talking about? I thought.

   “So why did you tell me about it in the first place? Didn’t you think I’d be mad about it?”

    “Why are we even talking about this now? We are at a party, besides, we stalled this talk for a whole year, so what’s another day?” I heard Noor’s chair creek against the kitchen tiles, but Malak stopped her exit.

    “Why did you tell me about the whole thing that day?” Malak asked again.

    “I don’t know,” Noor, sobbed, “I just couldn’t handle seeing him laying in bed like that. It all reminded me of his mother…” What does my mom have to do with any of this?

    “So you couldn’t handle the guilt of keeping it a secret so you decided to tell me.” Malak pointed out in a single tone of voice.

    “I can’t tell him, Malak.” Noor started weeping, which made my gut tell me, you don’t want to be listening to any of this. But I didn’t pay attention to it, I kept my whole body still and silent, with only my grip growing harder on the apple I had in my left hand, as I got more frustrated.

    “Noor, he’ll understand, besides none of what happened was anyway your fault. And it wasn’t your dad’s fault that he crashed into her [my mom] car.”

    “What?” I asked behind the walls. I clutched my fingers over the wooden tile that is on the side of the door, my hand freeing the squished apple. My face turned as pale as a ghost. I dragged my feet into the kitchen, and looked into Noor’s eyes with my thick eyebrows almost dropping to level with my eyes.

    “Haman…” Malak started.

    “You shut up!” I said coldly without taking my eyes away from Noor.

    A tear started racing down Noor’s face, which made me feel bad for what I’ve done, but then again, she had no right to play me like that.

    Noor slowly looked up to look at my eyes, but bent her head straight away when she saw the fury in them, “It wasn’t his fault.” She began. “It’s not like he planned any of it to happen.”

    “No.” I interrupted, “That’s not what’s pissing me off; the accident happened because God wanted it to happen, and there is no one to blame for that.”

    Noor looked up again, her mascara totally ruined by her tears, but she didn’t pay any attention to it, “What are you mad about then?” She cried lightly.

    “I’m mad at you.” I saw Malak move as if she was going to interrupt, but I shot her a look that froze her in her place.

    “Why?”

    “I have a better question, why are we friends now, Noor? Why did you only choose to become my friend after my mom died?” I challenged, as I moved closer towards her and shut the kitchen door. Noor looked at the closed door; her only exit, “Answer me.” I demanded.

    But she never did, instead she started crying, and Malak was there to comfort her with a box of tissue and few sweet words. After she was done taking care of Noor she walked up to me,     “What the hell is your problem?”

    “What?” I asked in disbelief, think that my best friend would take my side, especially when my argument was obviously right.

    “Get out of the kitchen.” Malak said as she gave me her back, to go comfort Noor.

    That was the last time I’ve spoken to them since I travelled. I sat there thinking of the incident, without understanding what I’ve done wrong. Noor was obviously just friends with me because she felt guilty, and not for any better reason. She couldn’t even defend herself when I gave her the chance; all she did was cry like a baby. So why did Malak take Noor’s side? Then my mind decided to bring me scarier thoughts; that was the last conversation I had with my best friend. The last time I spoke with my best friend was when I upset her and made her get mad at me. A lot could happen in the time I have been away, and I didn’t ask about her once. For all I know Malak could be in a hospital right now, but I can’t know because I let a fight that wasn’t even with her get between our friendship. That got me thinking if that fight was even necessary, or if I should have at least talked to Malak about all of this before I left instead of think what if the whole time? 

    I obviously couldn’t do anything about it now, so I decided to try and sleep to take my mind away from all of this. I tried to somehow think of something that would make me smile, and to find my “happy place”. Thinking of happiness only brought one name to my mind, and the name kept on replying in my head like a catchy song.

    Dalia, Dalia, Dalia…