The Girl in The Green Scarf

T h i r t y - t h r e e

C H A P T E R

33

- S e b a s t i a n -

Making our way down the driveway, past the old truck flourishing with rust and dirt, I force myself to acknowledge that we are here. Hamsa's family are behind that door. Who are left of them, at least.

"You aren't nervous for real, are you?" Hamsa asks, her voice wrapped with amusement. "I can't really tell, since I've never seen you wear nervousness before."

When I settle for blotting the thin film of sweat coating my forehead - trapping wisps of hair against it-, she sighs, stopping at the door.

"Don't sweat it, I'm sure almost everyone will like you," she says.

This makes me laugh. "I appreciate your confidence in me."

The sound of crickets chirping mixes with my laugh and before I can stop to ask Hamsa what crickets are doing above ground on such a cold wintery evening, the front door barges open and out comes Zeina, looking horrified as she jumps after a small cricket.

"Oh no! Pleathe come back. You'll die out there," she cries after the creature - completely oblivious to us standing right there - and then dives between my open legs to grasp the cricket along with a handful of melting snow. "Got you!" she exclaims triumphantly.

Sighing, she turns over and her hair sprawls across the floor in rays. Squinting, she gazes up at us, eyes shining with a mixture of alarm and excitement. A wide grin breaks her cheeks apart and dimples make a special appearance.

"Hey Bugs' Ranger," I say with a wink.

"Bash you made it! I knew you would come, I knew it!" she squeals, hopping to her bare feet and raising her cupped hands up hands.

"Of course I did," I say, patting her damp hair.

"Mitha thaid you wouldn't, but I didn't believe her," she says, poking her tongue out at Hamsa and I follow her lead, making Hamsa roll her eyes.

"Thtop wiggling Bash!" Zeina snaps suddenly, taking me back.

"What?"

She scowls at her cupped hands in a way that I think is supposed to be chastising but in reality isn't anything but adorable and then digs out a small plastic bottle out of the pocket of her hoodie.

"There, thtay here where mom can't find you and toth you outthide the houthe," she says, emptying the contents of her palm into the bottle. "Good boy, Bash!"

Bash the cricket.

"I'll go tell mom you're here," Zeina exclaims, setting into the house at a gallop.

I don't answer her, since I'm engaged being appalled by the fact that she named her cricket after me.

Hamsa cracks up laughing. "I could actually see the resemblance between the two of you," she says, catching her breath.

"You're just jealous Zeina didn't name a cockroach after you," I say, shrugging off her derisive laughter.

"I think I can live with it." She wipes away the wetness forming in her eyes - at my expense - and shuts the door after us. "Happily."

Taking in the empty living room Hamsa sighs. "Good, we got here before the guys arrived."

Guys, as in more than one male member of Hamsa's family I have to meet. I just hope they're less intense than the overprotective older brother.

"Come on, Come on mom, he'th here," Zeina squeals excitedly, pulling on the hand of a woman who is just too young to be a mother.

The woman's laughs are short and embarrassed. Following closely behind is another woman - an older version of Zeina's mother - wearing a more comfortable expression. She must be Hamsa's aunt and she's the first to speak.