Chapter 23: "Kiss N Cry"

Goal for an update within 48 hours: 350 comments. Let's go!🤩

First draft: March, 2018

The moment the professor paused to switch the slides and find the correct reference in one of the other lectures she had prepared, Salma’s mind promptly switched back to the conversation she had had with Spogmae earlier that morning. Salma settled back in her chair, tapping her pen against the desk, thinking her words through.

“No, it’s still not your fault,” Spogmae had argued.

“I agree,” Burak Kaka, who still looked displeased on Salma’s intervention on behalf of Zayn, said. He had his hands resting on his sides, his height making him look even more foreboding.

Salma had managed to stop the two Green Coats from chasing Zayn down, or telling her father about the unpredictable rainy season of her eyes, but the whole thing took another frustrating turn when they started lecturing her about being firm and sure of her treatment of Zayn.

“He is being a classless jackass and he has absolutely no reason to behave like that!” Burak continued.

“But –“

“Let me put it this way,” Spogmae began. “If I grab this pot and ram it into my partner’s leg, fracturing their shin, I’m the aggressor, right?”

Salma said nothing

“Bachey?” Burak urged her to answer.

“Yes,” Salma mumbled, not sure why they wanted her to actually reply.

“Right,” Spogmae began. “So after that I realize we have a bunch of killers on our tail, and I can’t afford to lose my head, or my partner’s, but they can’t run because I broke their leg. Therefore, I have to not only give them a hand but also, let them dictate the pace. It’s frustrating and dangerous and mental, but who’s to blame for us being slowed by the injury? My partner or me?”

Salma turned to her fiddling fingers, feeling conflicted.

“Mental wounds can’t be seen doesn’t mean they’re any less painful or fake,” Spogmae said gently. “Like a limb that’s broken, an emotional wound takes time to heal. If he doesn’t have the patience for you to mend before pacing up, he might as well withdraw his help and walk away. It’s not on you.”

Salma took a gulp of breath and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Burak Kaka began. “Respond to him only when you feel like it. Leave when you can’t. You don’t owe him anything.”

“The world is harsh on a woman, as is,” Spogmae added. “A man declaring love for a woman somehow has all the sympathy and support just because. People will belittle your pain, tell you to forgive him and just move on. That he’s reformed his ways, become better and is full of regret. They’re quick to judge, call you cold and heartless, but remember, you don’t owe him, or any man, your love. Except for the one who earns it.”

As the professor started talking again, Salma forced her attention back to class. Although Spogmae’s analogy and her words had made sense, Salma still felt pressured to run on a broken leg. She felt responsible for slowing the partner who was lending her a hand despite the fact that he was the dimwit that knocked her down in the first place. Salma realized she’d rather he just dropped her weight and walked away. She would prefer that over being a burden over someone she could not repay in kind.

It dawned on her that Zayn and Burak were both right. She did have a problem with him helping her. Her pride hurt. And she did not value him enough to let him have one up on her. He was not considered family. Therefore, she rather she either paid in full, or ask him to walk away.

As the class continued, the problem kept formulating and reformulating into a slightly less tangled knot. By the time the class was over, her mind was made up. Salma figured she had to bury the past and stop frustrating Zayn with her inability to respond the way he wanted, but the mere idea of finding him and talking to him had her feeling anxious.

Salma decided to talk to Sarah. Zayn obviously did not have the patience to walk her pace, and Salma did not have the strength to stride along his marathon

Still deep in thought, she stepped onto the pavement that ran the length of the ground. A cheery laugh exploded from the canopy to her left. Salma glanced at the students gathered there and her soul bowed its way out of her body, making her halt.

She had not expected to find Zayn this quick.

As her soul settled back upon her heavily, like a fat ghost slumping onto a couch, her stomach sank with it. A voice in her head suggested to keep walking. Come around around later after she had had her speech and mind prepared, but the stress weighting down on her mind told her to deal with her problem now.

Taking in a deep breath, Salma changed her direction and stepped off the pavement towards the canopy.

Eyes found her. Silence prevailed. Three people alerted Zayn of her arrival. Two by proding his arm, and a third person by wiggling their eyebrows in her direction.

Zayn turned around just as she approached him. Salma’s eyes found the other faces more interesting.

“Hi.” she waved at Claire, Niall, Charlayne, the crow – Lena – and a few other students.

Smiles, nods, hasty ‘hellos,’ roll of the eye –from Lena – and confused looks. Salma took it all in, waiting for her cowardly sight to find the guts to meet Zayn’s confused and somber gaze.

“May I have a word with you?” she asked, and her eyes, overwhelmed by curiosity of his reaction, found the courage to turned to him.

A painful heartbeat of silence passed. Salma almost recoiled from his impeding rude decline but thankfully, it did not happen.

“Sure.” He shrugged.

Avoiding everyone’s questioning, teasing, and murderous – Lena’s – gazes, Salma swerved on her heels, almost too keenly. It must have looked comical but she did not even wait to see if Zayn had gotten up to follow her. With the absolute silence behind her, Salma wondered if that had indeed happened?

However, once she stopped around the corner of the block, away from the preying eyes of the students, she turned around to see the air in front of her had a Zayn in it. Her eyes weren’t curious anymore. They were cowardly. She found herself looking at the brick building of the administration block.

Salma bit her inner cheeks. Okay. Let’s start.

“About earlier today --"

“I’m sorry,” Zayn mumbled.

Salma’s eyes became bolder and snapped to him. His weren’t so courageous though. After sneaking a quick glance at her, he kept his gaze firmly fixed over her shoulder, at whatever was there to look at, behind her. A silence ensued. Her breath rattled as she drew it in.

“You first,” Salma said.

Zayn seemed visibly relieved. Salma wondered if he had guessed what she wanted to talk about.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he continued. “I don’t know what happened. I just . . .” he shook his head, pressing his lips together. “I was just down and irritable. Could be the injury or the meds, or the jerk of a – I mean, the whole mess. In short, that was a load of rubbish. I’m sorry.”

Salma studied his uncomfortable demeanor as he struggled with his words. Now that she noticed, he did looked paler and his eyes were covered with dark circles. She swallowed, feeling the guilt seeping in. And with that, returned the pain in her chest and the uncomfortable knot in her stomach. Her eyes threatening to rain again. Anything and everything Spogmae and Burak Kaka had told her to help her cement her scattered pieces together, became useless.

She was back to being the confused emotional mess that had been bawling in the bathroom after the breakfast.

“How are you now?” she asked quietly, eyeing his side.

Zayn’s hand shot to his wound, touching the bandage lightly.

“Better,” he replied with a shrug.

As another silence ensued, Salma figured it was her turn to make some clarifications now.

“I had meant what I said before you snapped at me,” she muttered.

Zayn opened his mouth, then hesitated and closed it again. He nodded.

“I appreciate that,” he said instead, still not meeting her gaze.

“Clearly the message didn’t convey?”

“It’s just . . .” He clamped his mouth shut again. It was obvious what he wanted to say would be rude, or offensive to her. He sighed. “Don’t worry though. Your father and I have an understanding. I’m not going to turn my back on you. I'll be there when you need me.”

That is not what she was worried about. It was the opposite. A lump formed in her throat. If he wasn’t going to drop her and walk away, she had no choice but to run on a broken leg.

Taking in a deep breath, she stepped towards him. Zayn tensed up. His puzzled eyes went to and fro between hers.

“Bee?” He moved away uncertainly, knocking into the wall of the Biological Sciences Block.

Salma clenched her jaws, closing the distance between them.

“Bee?! What’re you –“

Her heart seared as she grabbed  his hands to force him to stay put. Then, before she could crumble, she rose on her toes.

A blinding pain coursed through her. She let go abruptly and stepped back, gasping.

Her world turtled. A mess of hurt and tears.

Against her better judgment, she had tried running on a broken leg.

And it was a torture.

***

"Baby steps!” Sarah scolded her. “Salma, I said baby steps!”

Sarah looked in defeat at the girl crying profusely into the crook of her arm. She felt her heart break at her state but she could not help but feel angry at Salma for pushing herself too much. She could barely hold a normal conversation with Zayn and all of sudden, she had gone ahead and kissed him.

Sarah sighed, wondering how confused and riled up Zayn would have felt with her impulsive behavior. She grabbed Salma by the arms, forcing her up. She held her in her embrace, hoping it would calm her down.

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Sarah said. “You’re smart enough to know it doesn’t work that way. It’ll only cause more damage –“

A knock on the door cut her off. Salma quickly turned her back to the door when Sarah got up to answer it. She grabbed a tissue and dried up her eyes and nose before pulling her niqaab up.

Sarah – once properly covered in a shawl herself – opened the door to reveal Zayn standing by it, looking worried. He looked past Sarah to see Salma sitting on the chair, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her back to them.

He turned to Sarah, who was glimpsing at her friend over her shoulder too.

“Do you mind if I talk to her?” Zayn requested.

Sarah contemplated it for a second, before nodding. She grabbed her scarf and abaya off the hook and walked out of her room.

Salma remained silent and stationary throughout their exchange. Her skin crawl knowing Sarah had left. She was uncomfortable in Zayn's presence but Salma figured she had brought it upon herself with her irrational behavior earlier.

Hoping that she would not walk out on him, Zayn stepped into the room and started shutting the door behind him. He noticed her shoulders tensing up. On second thoughts, he left the door partially open.

He hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to approach her. She was unpredictable, to say the least. He knew she would be giving him an ultimatum when he messed up after the breakfast, but he was still reeling from how she had taken things after his apology. Of the hundred and ten things that crossed his mind when she led him away from the crowd, a kiss on the cheek was not something he would have entertained, even in his dreams. The spot where her lips had brush through the veil, was still warm and tingling. Zayn tried to focus. He had just gotten a glimpse of her welled up eyes before she suddenly let go and ran away, and he knew she was distraught.

Casually as he could he dropped his bag next to the table and reached for the chair close to her. As the chair scrapped against the floor, Salma threw him a hasty side-glance with blood-shot eyes, dreading what was to come.

Author's Note:

Uh oh, Sally boo just dug herself another hole, and guess who she found there, going all 😍 on her.

Zayn ain't letting this go now, is he🤭. You might see how that panes out in two days if you reach the goal 😉. I'll post an update 2X the word length of this chapter.

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J.