Bound To You

Chapter 11: Finding Out

Everybody had dreams.

Dreams about what everybody wanted to do as a profession in future.

Dreams about where everybody wanted to travel.

Dreams about what type of person everybody wanted to spend the rest of their life with.

I was no different than others.

Like everybody, I had dreams too. I dreamt about the time when I would get my first job. I dreamt about the time where I would want to visit some day. I dreamt about the time when I would meet my prince charming.

I wasn't into fairytales but, I did wanted to meet somebody who would care for me. Somebody who would swing me by my waist and say that he loved me everyday. Somebody who would wake me before every Fajr Salah so that we could pray together. Somebody who would recite the Holy Quran beside me and I would listen to his recitation.

But, I guess I dreamt too much. It was out of my reach to have something like that.

It had been two days since uncle had told me that he would marry me to make some business benefit out of me. Since then he made me attend two marriage interviews and the men who he got as my suitors were heavy drinkers and not to mention, both suitors were in their 40s while I was only 18. I wasn't even sure if they were Muslims.

Grandma objected in the marriages and as a result both were unsuccessful. Uncle was angry at grandma yesterday and he didn't let grandma to have her dinner or breakfast today. Even for me, he didn't gave me any food.

I was hungry and it was lunch time, and all I was thinking was about my life now.

I was so focused on my thoughts that I didn't realize somebody from behind kicked a soccer ball at me. The soccer ball was kicked towards the stair case where I was seating. I was seating on the library hallway's stairs, a few steps away from the floor. The soccer ball dripped down the stairs from the top of me, which I didn't even notice because I was so focused on my thoughts.

Suddenly, I felt the soccer hit my back hard, making me flipped over and fall down the floor. I fell down on the floor from a minimum of 5 stairs so my body didn't hurt bad, however, my whole body weight fell on my ankle that got twisted 2 days ago.

I sighed.

Seriously, why do I keep having bad lucks with stairs and ankles!

After two days, my ankle healed a little but it did had pain. My feet which had cuts because of stepping on glasses was bandaged and was healing, however, because of today's fall, my wounded feet got hurt again.

I sighed.

"Yo! Nerdypoo!" I heard a familiar voice as I heard foot steps down the stair case.

Seriously?! Don't tell me it was that asshole who threw the ball at me.

I pushed my body to sat on the floor properly and looked back and sat Omar running down the stairs and making his way towards me.

I looked at him, annoying.

"You threw this at me?!" I yelled, taking the soccer ball and throwing it at him. "You jerk!"

He ran down the stairs case and stood beside me. He grabbed the soccer ball and was looking at me. His eyes held the emotions that I couldn't read. It was filled with anger and something that I couldn't read.

As he was moved closer to me, I could see the fine soccer t - shirt he was wearing. It was a red wine t - shirt. Our school's logo was printed on the t - shirt. His legs were covered by long jumpers. His face was sweaty and his hair was all messy and damp.

As much as I wanted to stand on the floor and beat the hell out of him, I couldn't move my eyes to stop looking at him. I never seen Omar like this. He looked . . . Different.

" . . . Na?" he waved his hand in front of me. "Yumna?"

It was then I realized I was looking at him for a few minutes. I tore my eyes off him and tried to stand. As my feet stepped on the floor, the left foot seamed fine but, my right foot hurted more now.

Did I twisted it again?

I ignored the pain and pressed my weight on my right foot to stand but winched in pain. "Ouch," I bit my lips.

The pain was unbearable this time. I had twisted my wounded already twisted right ankle once again.

Omar quickly bend down to meet my level. "Hey, you okay?" He asked.

I looked at him angrily. "Do I look okay to you, Mr. Jackass?!" I yelled.

"Well, it wasn't my fault. I yelled at you and told you to move! But you didn't!" He yelled. "It wasn't my fault that you were daydreaming and you didn't notice me kicking the ball down the stairs."

I looked at him, annoyingly. I hated when he was right.

Omar looked at me. "What are you doing here, anyway? Did you forget that it was lunch time and everybody went to the cafè and to eat their lunch? Who told you to be alone and seat here?"

I rolled my eyes at him.

Right.

Like I had lunch.

Uncle didn't let me have a single food since last night and there was no way he would let me pack a lunch for myslef. Heck, I didn't even got any money to buy my lunch.

I ignored him and tried to stand. I winced again. "Ouch!"

"You hurted your feet," he said. "Seat on the stairs. Let me seat your feet."

"And why would I do that, Mr. Jackass?!" I said annoyingly.

"Because, I said so," he said in a way as he meant it.

I crossed my arms around my chest. "Like I would listen to you, bad boy."

"Why must you be so difficult?!" He sighed.

"Because I hate you till infinity!"

"Yumna," he warned. "Seat on the stairs. I mean it. I am not in the mood of having an argument with you."

I ignored him.

"Yumna Hamdi," Omar said my full name as if he was warning me. "Take the seat or I am going to find a way to get your ass on the stairs."

I looked at him, annoyingly. "What's your problem, dude?!" I yelled. "Just why the heck you care about about my bloody feet?! "

"Because!"

"Because what?!"

He looked annoyed. "Yumna, seat on the stairs and let me look at you feet. Or else, I know ways to shut that little mouth of yours."

I noticed him looking at my lips. All of a sudden, I felt a bit self concious. I moved my body and sat two stairs up the stairs.

Omar looked at me and said nothing. His eyes weren't cold but it held no emotions either. He sat on the floor and took my feet on his lap. I watched him and saw him talking off my shoes.

"Now let's have a look, shall we?" he said as he took off my shoes, revealing my bandaged, swollen feet.