The Flying Dreams

CHAPTER FORTY

I called Zoya after my morning namaz and she picked up on the third ring right before my thumb hovered over the red button, already second-guessing my decision to call her so early. My mind was in a jumbled mess and the dryness in my eyes didn't seem to go away even after washing them multiple times, though the mild ache behind my brows was beginning to subdue—clearly the work of the painkiller I had taken a few minutes ago. The constant low buzzing in my ears irritated me to no end that only tea could curb but the fear of facing Shifa again was too great of a threat to actually try and make myself a hot cup of tea along with some sugared biscuits. Not that I had any idea if the two girls were still lounging on the sofa, the same sofa I had sat on with Shifa to watch a dozen movies and drank tea. For someone who had always played it safe— no way would I let anyone change that, not even Shifa, thus getting out of the comfort of my room into the kitchen was off the table.

I had fallen asleep and woke up without any memory of dropping on the bed, my clothes were not the same when I left for Divya's yesterday evening, while I did recall myself unfastening the knot of my lavender hijab that lay on the table, but I could not remember changing into the overworn white salwar kameez. I stupidly wished to have forgotten all about seeing Shifa kissing another girl too, but my luck never disappointed me— the scene I had witnessed last night was stuck inside the walls of my mind with images so detailed that I was sure I had just made them up to fill the tiny gaps in between the small detour from the living room to my bedroom. However, the face of the other girl remained a blur, only Shifa's face replayed in my mind like a broken tape that would only play one part, as her eyes went wide and then narrowed at me like I had stolen something precious from her and her words when she told me to mind my own business in the polite guise of care. It's late. Wasn't it too late to be kissing on the sofa, too?

Then there was something else that frightened me to the core. I had not minded her being with a girl, she had told me the fact and I obviously hadn't thought much about it but what bothered me was that the girl wasn't me. And for a scary minute I wondered if all the unwanted, unintentional tears and the heaviness inside my chest was the effect of seeing her with a girl or another girl.

"Adia? How are you?"

Zoya's voice was barely a hush, and I knew she had cupped the speaker of the phone to be audible to me and not to let one of her nosey siblings overhear. As soon as I heard her voice, a new wave of tears threatened to spill. A dozen things needed to be said and got off my shoulders but when I parted my lips, none of the words I wanted to say came out. Rising from the bed and quickly making my way to the small balcony, I paid attention to my steps and leaned against the cold iron handrail.

"I am getting married."

Zoya let out a short chuckle and the guilt of sensing her excitement crept up too fast, too deep and I wondered if she would understand what I had wanted to tell her. For a second, I contemplated doing it. But the courage waned with each passing second that she took to move somewhere nobody could listen in her home. No, not even in my most foolish dream would she grasp the meaning or the truth of what I was beginning to become. I didn't understand what was happening to me, how could she?

"I know! Wahab bhai texted me to ask a few things too, guess what he is going to gift you on your first night? I'm not going to tell you. Adia, you must find me another Wahab. He is so sweet."

That was not the first time I had faked a laugh but that was the hardest one and the loudest too. That, too, in front of Zoya. I had never felt the need to lie to her, but I knew that was going to change and the realization hurt more than anything. More than seeing Shifa with that girl.

The sky was still covered with the remnants of last night but hearing Zoya talk soothed my mood a bit. The topic was not of interest, but her excitement felt contagious. We talked, or she did the talking while I just listened to my own wedding plans. Within a few minutes, I had the knowledge of the relatives who were already in town and who was not coming. My parents had already booked a nearby banquet hall, making sure that it was grander than the one Jihan's in-laws had booked and started buying house appliances for my dowry. I asked Zoya if they had arranged for a spy in Jihan's in-laws' home in hopes of buying everything more expensive than Jihan's bride. The matter of dowry couldn't be taken without the concern of someone else outdoing it. That was the biggest risk of having two brides in the same household and at the same time.

"Nah, I'll send you another picture of her. She doesn't hold a candle to you, no matter how much dowry she brings with her. Don't worry about it, okay?"

Of course, Wahab's relatives weren't going to care about something as trivial as education, my reputation and impression there as a capable bride would rest solely on how much I filled his house with material. Suddenly, a different kind of ached built up inside my chest and I wished no longer to hear Zoya's overexcited voice.

Opening my lips to cut off her in middle, I was going to make some excuse but before a word could leave my mouth, a knock on my door interrupted. I knew who was on the other side of the door and the knowledge did nothing to calm my swiftly escalating heartbeat, the sharp, frosty air of the morning felt like a comfort, a blanket to balance the warmth that was sneaking all over my body, way too fast and without my permission. Quickly hanging up the call, completely ignoring Zoya's protest to let her finish the story—I didn't even remember what she was going on about. I straightened up. There was no need to, but somehow my mind screamed at me to seem presentable enough and without giving any response to the knock, I padded inside and looked in the mirror. The tip of my ears could give a  tomato a run for its money and the pounding of my heart just made me more aware of the presence of the other girl. I zoned on my face and sure enough, anyone could tell I cried

Another knock nearly made me jump and trying to ignore the shortness of my breaths, I opened the door. Shifa stood there with a fist in the air, probably preparing for knocking and seeing me, she quickly dropped her hand to her side. Despite my nervousness and fear, I kept my stare on her but to my surprise, she seemed to be avoiding my eyes.

"Uh, good morning."

And I thought I was uncomfortable. Fighting the urge to let my amusement known, I said, "Good morning."

"I was making tea; would you like some?"

Everything in my brain told me to say no to this ever-repeating cycle but everything in her posture, the way she didn't look at me and how hesitant her voice sounded, her shoulder leaning on the doorway for support as if she could not trust her feet to do the job, compelled me to say, "Yes, of course."

That and my own selfish desire to be in her company.