Roommates

ALANA

I hated goodbyes.

But I had accepted long ago on the train that I would have to say goodbye to Knight. If we really were meant for each other, I'd meet him again. If not, I couldn't control my destiny. I was willing to go with the flow. See what happens next.

That's why my heart was at ease.

He jerked his head into a nod as a silent goodbye. I returned the gesture with a small, sad smile and turned away to the final bus that would take me straight to my apartment building. Knight headed in the opposite direction and I watched his form disappear till I couldn't see him anymore.

Trees swayed as a cold breeze blew, almost knocking me off my feet. I should've definitely worn something warmer. Istanbul was cold all around the year. Good thing I liked cold, then.

. . .

"Hi," I waved at my new roommates, a big smile plastered on my face.

So, I had this theory. If you managed to act confident and sure of yourself on your first day of anything, you would be totally okay for the rest of the year.

The girl who seemed to be my age, extended a hand, "I'm Clare," She pointed a thumb to the awkward girl at the back with some seriously red hair. "That one, who looks like Merida from Brave, is Aylin."

I shook her hand. "It's so nice to meet you. Are you both Turkish?"

Aylin shockingly hugged me warmly, making me feel immediately at home. She wore boyfriend jeans that were ripped at the knees and the pink blouse was buttoned almost all the way up. She had the kind of figure all girls hoped to achieve—hourglass, I think it was called.

"I'm from Bursa," Aylin murmured, tucking a wayward ginger strand behind her ear. "Clare and I met a week ago. She's from Ankara."

Ah. Makes sense with the accent then.

"Izmir," I chimed in with another smile that was genuine. "Are we working in the same hotel?"

Clare waved her hand around in an exasperated gesture. "First, sit down and breathe. Then, we can talk about work. Come on, hurry up I need to see your hair."

Ookay.

Half of my life was spent with girls wanting to see my hair. What colour was it? What texture? How long?

Ensured that the apartment door was closed, I unclipped the pin holding my dignity together. The silky printed scarf went off. Silence descended in the room and I could feel two pairs of very curious eyes marking my every movement. Next, I let my hair free and it fell down in waves, tickling the edges of my lower-back.

"Wow," Clare breathed, "This never gets old."

I laughed, flipping my hair back like a total snob. "You like?"

"Yeah! You don't look like someone who would have such long hair! It's beautiful."

I eyed the chestnut brown strands and didn't think they were that special.

Clare waggled her eyebrows. "I wonder which lucky guy has gotten the chance to see them."

Crossing my legs on my bed, I rolled my eyes. "Nobody, thanks."

I started wearing a hijab when I turned seventeen, although most wore after they hit puberty. My adoptive parents weren't religious and when I'd studied my religion, I'd found all the talk about hijab as a sign of oppression to women to be bull. It made me who I was today. It made me feel like there was more to me than my physical appearance and most times, I'd noticed how it stopped me from being arrogant. From wanting men to notice me. Because whether girls admit it or not, they craved attention.

No biggie.

"Okay, now that you've oh-so-nicely let me into your private life," Clare's smile was so fake I thought it was going to break like a second-hand vase. "Let us tell you that we'll be working in the same hotel for the next four months."

Oh wow. Really?

"You're chefs, too?" It wasn't beyond me to jump up and down in joy.

Until she shook her head and I sank into the springy mattress like a disappointed pup.

"Nothing cool like that. Aylin you tell her now. I'm tired of speaking." As if to prove her point, she lay down and closed her eyes on her bed.

I was glad to have separate beds. And glad that I wouldn't have to pay for this lavish apartment since it was part of the agreement I had when I signed up for this internship. Full-time work in exchange for paid housing expenses.

Working all day in a kitchen was a passion of mine. I honestly didn't know what to do with my hands when they weren't beating or chopping or stirring something. My mind seemed to work faster as I busied myself with food and my heart felt at peace.

Which is why I was studying Gastronomy and Culinary Arts on a full-funded government scholarship. It was by far the best decision of my life.

I hope I could say the same when I started working tomorrow at Swissotel.