The Sheikh's Priceless Bride
“Just a bit of trouble at home,” I told him, sniffing. “Sometimes it feels very far away. But you must know that.”
He nodded, his eyes growing wide, like saucers. “I know it,” he murmured. “But it’s going to be okay.”
After a while, I gathered myself together, asking the students to return to their seats. Lifting the textbook from the shelf, I asked them to turn to chapter three. And, as we staggered forward together, we began to learn more English vocabulary, more phrases. But they looked at me with large, understanding eyes, telling me, over and over again: I wasn’t alone.
Chapter 2
Rami
“You just think you’re so charming, don’t you?” This was the voice of Alim, my best friend since we were children. He traipsed behind me, his kebab dripping in his hand, the sauce dribbling across his pants.
“You look like a mess, Alim,” I told him, swiping my napkin across his suit. “You can’t expect me to be out in public with you, looking like that.”
Behind us, the girls I’d just made eye contact with snickered at us, their eyes glittering. They were tall and slender, with long hair that gleamed in the sunlight. One of them held a kebab with thin fingers, nibbling at it daintily.
She was the antithesis of Alim, like a graceful gazelle, poised. Alim hankered for her, or for someone like her. I could feel him, trying to mimic the swagger I had. But he was lost, still with that dripping kebab. An attractive man, sure. But he had nothing compared to me. And we both knew it.
“You have to stop it,” Alim sighed, swiping his hand across his lower lip, trying to mop up the grease. “Just because we aren’t all tall, dark, and handsome doesn’t mean…”
“What? I’m sorry. You think I don’t deserve the women I get?” I chuckled, tossing my head back. My dark hair caught in the breeze, and my dark eyes twinkled against the sun. With rippling muscles, firm biceps and a six-pack abdomen, I felt volatile and alive as we walked along, a veritable Adonis beside the shorter, stockier Alim. I could feel other people’s eyes upon me as we walked down the road.
Another woman made eye contact with me as we walked, causing me to stop. As I paused, the girl blushed, lowering her eyes. Her long eyelashes fluttered.
“How are you doing?” I asked her.
“Oh, fine,” she murmured, her voice shy. “I see you out here often, you know that?”
“So you’re telling me I’ve missed so many opportunities to speak with you?” I asked her, a small frown across my forehead. “That’s a tragedy, isn’t it?”
“Quite,” she said, flipping her hair behind her ears. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. I could almost sense the story she’d tell her friends after meeting me there. “Sheikh Rami Waheed,” she’d murmur, excitement causing her voice to waver. “He was walking down the road, and he spotted me. He stopped me, dead in the street. He couldn’t resist.”
“We’d better be going to that meeting, hey?” Alim said, yanking at my elbow and giving me a stern expression. “No time to dilly-dally.”
“Come on, now. There’s time,” I said to him, giving him a soft, eager smile. “There’s always time for… I’m sorry, what was your name?”
The girl opened her lips, prepared to tell me. But Alim tugged at my arm a final time, pulling me to the other side of the road. Exasperated, he tapped his hand on my back, watching as the girl pouted, clearly disappointed.
“She was just going to flirt with you for the next 15 minutes, ignoring me the entire time. As usual,” Alim sighed. “I just can’t hack it anymore, man. It’s too much.”
“We can get you someone to love, my boy,” I told him, clapping him on the shoulder as we continued walking. More and more women gave me coy smiles as we walked, but I let them pass by, humoring my friend.
Above us, the afternoon sun had begun to beat down with ferocity. A bead of sweat swept down Alim’s forehead, along his temple. I swiped at it, teasing him. “You’ll never get someone sweating like a pig, though.”
“Lay off,” Alim sighed, his nostrils flared. “What the hell are we doing today, anyway? I thought you had that meeting with your father…”