OK so this is my first story read on and i hope you like=D
I'm different. That was the first thing that popped into my head as I was sitting on a very uncomfortable leather seat in the middle of the shoes section in Macy's. I turned around and looked to my left seeing three American girls giggling and laughing trying on as many high heel shoes as they could each going for a heel inch higher each time. I look over to my right, and see much to my amusement, this blonde woman who looked to be a bit over 20 wearing the tightest jean miniskirt, purple pushup bra and white tank top that seemed to enhance her bust size more than her pushup did, flirting with one of the salesman. You see I could never ever twist a strand of hair around my finger, pucker my lips, push out my breasts and flirt with a salesman to save my life much less anyone else's and I definitely could not walk in 4 much less 1 inch heels without falling flat on my face (trust me I've tried and it wasn't pretty). So the only conclusion I've come to is that I'm definitely and totally different. Not that I'm some sort of freaky weird girl that stares at everyone with humongous bug eyes, but I'm not exactly your typical American girl, in fact I'm not even American! Well my mom is, although technically she's Puerto Rican but since it's a territory of America we're all considered American. As for my dad he's from the Middle East, an Arab and so am I, I mean I've lived there practically my whole life. My dads family, my house, my friends, my school, they're all over there. Living their lives without me. And where am I? Stuck in the suburbs of sunny old Florida. Not that I despised living here, its just that my whole life changed now that we moved here because of the divorce and I know I might seem over dramatic but trust me being in your final year of high school and moving to a completely different continent a whole ocean away while your dad is still in the Middle East is definitely life altering. Apparently, my mom seems to be fine with everything seeing as she's already busy unpacking our new two story house. But my brother Adel's the one I'm most worried about as he's going to become a freshman at the same high school I'm forced to attend, and as I recall freshmen year was bad enough without having to move to a new high school and not to mention a new country! But anyways back to reality. I could hear my mom calling and I couldn't keep her waiting or I would be walking home tonight, not that I knew where it is anyways.
"Isadora, donde estas?" called my mom from behind the white wooden door of her changing room.
"Ma, I'm right here." I replied while standing right in front of her.
"Where have you been, your fathers going to call tonight and you know how he is if we're not there when he calls," she says while giving me a pointed stare "it's already 7 o'clock and we have to hurry if we want to make it home on time so go wait in line for me while I change." She hands me a black button down shirt for her and a bra with Mickey Mouse printed all over it for me. I grab the clothes and quickly head to the nearest cashier to wait in line, and just my luck who do I happen to see, miss blonde bimbo with the purple pushup bra still flirting with the salesman only this time there was the counter in between them. Curios as to who she was so hung over on I went on the tips of my toes, lifted my head and saw a man bent over, I waited until he got up and finally saw his face... well lets just say the word handsome does not do him justice. He was tall, really tall, definitely more than 6 foot. Dark brown curly hair, white teeth, luscious lips, and his eyes, well I couldn't really tell from here but they looked to be almond shaped brown eyes with long dark lashes.
While practically drooling over him, I hear someone in the corner of my head mumbling something to me. Disregarding it as my conscience I continue to stare and study his entire face all over again reveling in its perfect symmetry only to be brought crashing down to earth with a loud "Excuse Me". I shake my head and look down only to see the fake blonde bimbo with a smug smirk on her face asking me once again to move out of her way. I could feel the blood rush to my face as I'm pretty sure I looked like a red pepper wearing a bright blue polo shirt standing on tippy toes in the middle of a cashier line. I quickly mumble an apology and shuffle my feet to the left, while the fake blonde utters a flirty 'bye' and brushes past me. I quickly walk up to the counter, keeping my head down I hand the man my things and pretend to examine a speck on the counter quietly.
"Hmm... Mickey Mouse is ok but Donald Duck is waaaay cooler." Confused I look up into... green, definitely green, eyes.
"Huh?" yup that was all I could manage to come out of my mouth.
"Um... your uh... your... purchase it had Mickey Mouse on it, but in my opinion Donald Duck is totally better than a black mouse with gloves and suspenders but no shirt." He replies in a deep baritone voice, giving me a boyish grin. I look at the bra in his hands and couldn't help but chuckle, I mean this guy was commenting on my bra for Gods sakes, you couldn't get any cornier than that.
"I'll take that into consideration when I'm out buying bras again." WHOA, hold up did I just say that, me Isadora Abdaal, attempting to flirt with an extremely gorgeous yet corny salesmen who was probably twice my age. Hmm I guess I can twirl a strand of my hair, pucker my lips and push out my mediocre sized breasts in attempt to seduce a guy. I look down, nope there is NO WAY I could do that with these I'd be too embarrassed and my bra would probably bunch up. Of course this was what I should of replied with instead of standing there with my mouth open and bright stars in my eyes.
"Isadora I finally found you, its already half past seven so we better get a move on things and..." I snap out of my daze as I glance to my left and see my mother magically standing next to me. I look back at the salesman and notice he has a concerned look on his face. Oh god, how long have I been staring at him, he must think I have some sort of mental illness in which I drool profusely and have cross eyes.
"Uh... are you okay ma'am you've been standing there with that same expression on your face for a while now, is there something I could get you?" he asks me with furrowed brows and genuine concern in his eyes. My mom turns towards the salesman and says the most random thing I have probably heard in my life, okay huge exaggeration but it applies here.
"Rafe?" wait hold up, she knows this guy? "Rafe Divello, is that you?" the salesman, or 'Rafe' in this case, takes his eyes off of me and turns in the direction of my mother. His eyes widen in recognition as his whole demeanor changes and he becomes somewhat more relaxed.
"Mrs. Abdaal its nice to see you again, my mom was wondering about when you would arrive, she's been very excited about seeing you again as we all are." He replied giving her a hundred watt smile.
"Yes I've been meaning to call her, we arrived just two days ago and have just finished unpacking so me and my daughter, Isadora," she gestures towards me "decided to celebrate by having lunch and shopping a bit. But we should all go out for dinner, maybe on Friday. I'll have to call your mother of course but I'm sure it can be arranged." She smiles towards him while he hands her her credit cards, and hands the bag to me whilst giving me a charming smile. I nimbly take the bag and as if in a daze I walk away leaving my mother to say her goodbyes to him.
"Well it was very nice running into him, I haven't spoken to his mother in weeks and I'm very anxious to see Cleta again, I've missed talking to her and I..."
"Wait, Cleta as in your high school friend who you've been in touch with for ages, that Cleta?" I asked my mom with a shocked expression on my face.
"Yes that very one and that was her son, I met him last year. Very good looking, mashaallah (author note- its an Arabic saying which basically means praise god and is used to warn off the evil eye or basically not to jinx things), he just finished his first year at some university and I think he's back for the summer. Ohh the things I have to do and..." I tuned my mom out as I started processing everything that had just happened. So far I have registered three things: one, handsome salesman guy was not twice my age, not that he looked it, but only two years older than me. Two, he's a friend of the family and his mom is my mom's best friend. And three, we were all going to have dinner on Friday. My mom, his mom, him and me. Great...
