"I think you should stop being so mean to me, Zahed."
"Why would I ever do that?"
Aryan grins, a bright, wicked thing.
"Because I kiss you like this."
•
Mira Zahed and Aryan Shankar are at war.
When her best friend and his cousin decide to fall in...
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"ARE YOU TWO HAVING A FUCKING STARING CONTEST?" Raf is about five seconds away from chucking his water glass at me.
Mira grabs the glass that he's about to reach for and slides it her way, eyes remaining trained on me.
"Hey!" He complains, dropping his hand as Zahed's gaze narrows on me.
"I'd usually be thrilled by the idea of throwing iced beverages at this asshole," she says sweetly, grey eyes sparking upon said asshole, "but if you throw that, I'd win by default. And I want to beat Aryan Shankar's ass fair and square."
"It's a fucking staring contest," argues Herrera. "You know, you can just flash him and win."
I'm not sure which of us started this. But Zahed and I are, in fact, having a fucking staring contest. And she does, in fact, appear to consider Herrera's advice.
"That's cheating," I tell her. I throw my voice at Raf. "Besides, whose side are you on?"
"Not yours," he replies without hesitation.
I haven't checked my watch but I'm pretty sure this has been going on since their meals arrived. About half an hour now.
I think I was looking at the menu and when I looked up, she was glaring at me for no conceivable reason, so I glared back. And now we're here. Neither of us wants to look away and lose. It's all her fault, really.
And Raf just wants to punch me because he's bored of us and punching me will take the edge off. I flip him off— that ought to take the edge off—without looking away from Zahed.
Because she wants to punch me in the face a lot more. I can tell it annoys her just to hold my stare for this long. I'm not helping that annoyance by constantly smirking across the table. I can basically hear the punching instinct alarms going off behind her hazy grey eyes.
If she punches me, that would count as a disqualification and a win for me, no?
I don't care too much about fair and square. Zahed isn't fooling anyone either. She fights dirty. My coffee-stained shirt at the bottom of a rubbish bin attests to that. She fights fucking filthy. But so do I.
The rest of the table is doing more civilised things. Kenna has proposed to Khadija. And Kajal. Sooner or later, she's gonna turn her attention her and shoot her shot with Zahed. "I'm going to get another coffee," grumbles Raf.
Just as he gets up, Charlie asks Kenna, "Why don't you propose to your basketball player next?"
Raf walks away but I know he's smirking as Kenna gasps loudly, hand on her heart. "Charles! Not you too!"
