Converting the Bad Boy ✔

Chapter 19

^In case you forgot how Zaid looked like lol

Double update in one day! Whaaaa?! I know, I'm on a roll, and I loved writing this Chapter so enjoy 😊

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Honestly, I didn't expect Zaid to be here. In fact, he was probably one of the last people I expected to work as a volunteer.

"Mariam. Salam. Are you a volunteer here?" If Zaid was surprised, he hid it well. He just smiled at me, the sunlight pouring from the window creating a harsh contrast on his face, his eyes chestnut brown. Teresa, who had a broken leg in a massive cast, gestured to the portable table, where I placed the tray, snapping out of my shock.

"Yes, it's my first day," I replied.

"I love your scarf," Teresa commented, touching a hand to her wisps of grey hair that framed her face, tucked back in a bun. Her pale face was streaked with wrinkles, but they in no means made her hideous. She had aged beautifully, I could tell.

"Thank you," I beamed, taking a step back. I had to leave now and return the trolley, but for some reason, I was hesitant. Maybe because Zaid and Teresa were both gazing at me intently, or maybe because I wanted to stay.

"Are you a friend of Zaid's?" Teresa asked, shooting a smile at Zaid. It seemed they knew each other well, but then again, it was Zaid's job to keep her company, and judging by how much information she had been telling him when I walked in, she trusted him.

"Um, well -" before I could figure out how to answer that, Zaid butted in.

"Yes, we go way back," Zaid replied, looking away from me for the first time since I walked in and speaking to Teresa. "We met at school." To put it loosely, I added silently.

"Oh, how nice. School friends," Teresa sighed wistfully. "It's good to keep in touch. I lost contact with most of mine, they were all too busy with their own lives, you know. They all move on so quickly..."

Zaid nodded like he knew exactly what she was talking about from experience. "Yeah, they do, don't they?"

I noticed Zaid wore the same vest I had on for volunteers, and a badge that stated his position. The way they were talking, you'd think that he was her grandson or something, and not just some stranger willingly keeping her company.

"Well, I've gotta go, it's my break, so..." I stuck a thumb over my shoulder, smiling ruefully.

Teresa waved me off. "Go ahead, Mariam, was it?" I nodded. "Well, it was nice meeting you. A friend of Zaid's is a friend of mine, after all," she chuckled.

Zaid suddenly rose from his chair. "I have to go too," Zaid said apologetically. He went round to the portable table and brought it closer to Teresa's bed, lifting the lid that covered the meal. Sure enough, there was a steaming pile of white rice sided with carrots and mashed potatoes, as well as a bowl of soup. It smelled nice, but it probably didn't taste as nice. Teresa thanked him, saying, "You're a good boy, Zaid. Now go catch up with your friend. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about." She winked at him, and I wondered what she meant by that as I pushed the trolley out the door with Zaid in pursuit.

"I'll do it," Zaid took over, pushing me gently aside and wheeling the empty trolley, shooting me a grin.

"Okay, thanks," I obliged, since I was physically exhausted from standing up for so long and my arms felt stiff. I walked beside him as he manoeuvred the trolley down the hall, the wheels rumbling against the linoleum.

"When did you start volunteering here?" I asked out of curiosity. I never would've pegged him to be the doctor type - I would've seen him as more of a, oh, I don't know, lawyer or salesman or marketer. He just had that certain quality that made you want to trust his word.