Last First Chance (Al-Ameen Family Spin-Off)

Words

HASAN

I walked into the kitchen, doing my best to avoid the dance practice going on in the basement with the rest of Rayyan's groomsmen. He couldn't pay me enough to dance in front of a crowd like a buffoon.

Maheen was huffing and puffing, aggressively trying to push her hair away from her face. Her hands were covered in some kind of batter, dripping yellow on the counters and somewhat on the floors too.

"Need some help?" I offer, walking up to her. She turns, looking relieved to see me.

"Yes please. My clip got moved, just grab it," she points to a tiny claw-like clip at the top of her head. I take it, and then gather her bangs, pushing them to the side. I grip the clip tightly, pushing it down with precision so not one hair is falling out and back onto her face.

I lean back to check my work. All her hair is moved but she looks a like a little girl. I bite back a laugh. "Bangs were a great idea," I say sarcastically.

She looks up at me, her eyes full of trouble. "Thank you for the feedback. Anything else wrong with my face?"

"That's it for now," I smirk, stepping away from her. Instead of hovering over her, I go to lean against the fridge to watch her work, not ready to leave her yet.

"Thank you," she returns to her work without another word.

"What are you making?"

"Jalebi," she grins, holding one up for me to see before taking a big bite out of it.

"They look a little distorted," I mock, inspecting them like a case file.

"Jiska mooh hi itna teda meda ho, usko sab teda meda hi dikhta hai. (Your face is so messed up, you obviously see everything else as messed up too)," she sneers.

A small chuckle escapes me, and I fail to cover it up in time. She grins smugly.

"Come, you try," she's provoking me with the most devilish of smiles. "I'm sure Mr. Perfection will do this perfectly too."

"Fine," I walk over, putting my hand out for her tools. She gives me a pair of scissors also covered in batter and a piping bag she was using to drop the batter into the hot oil.

She explains how to do one and then steps aside. I concentrate on the task at hand, refusing to let myself fail on something so simple.

My first jalebi comes out horrendously bad. She's doubling over in laughter beside me.

I try again, doing just as bad the second, third, and fourth time.

"Okay, okay, stop, you're going to waste all my batter," she says between big laughs. "I'll teach you."

She puts her hands over mine on the piping bag, moving them in a different position than how I held it. "Tighten your hold here. Then work from the outside in. That's easier to learn."

I'm not paying attention to the dessert anymore, instead locked on her face that is so intently focused on the task. Her nose is scrunched up, her nose ring shaking a bit when she did that.

Maheen was such a tomboy before, but she was pretty even then. Ten years later though, it was distracting how much she'd changed into someone I couldn't take my eyes off of.

I talked to Naina a few days ago about this charade Maheen had started. Maybe Maheen would have preferred to keep this between us but I needed Naina's advice. And Naina's advice was simple: if you like her, tell her. Make sure she knows it.

But how...

I wasn't really known for my way with words.

Her fingers are locked between mine, her short laughs coming through whenever she finished one.