Chapter 14 Fourteen

"What school do you attend?" I ask when my body functions have returned to a small semblance of normal (unfortunately, my body forgets how to work normally around Malik).

"Apex State University," he says with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He seems amused that I have finally found my voice after a sip of energising coffee.

"That is nice." I sip my coffee and wait for him to show an interest in my life and ask me a question about my existence (even though I doubt that I will have the right answers). When it becomes clear that he will not ask me a question, after a full minute of total silence punctuated by his shuffling feet, biting into his scone after offering to share with me and slurping of coffee from the mug, I give in and ask him another question. "Do you live with your parents?"

He shakes his head slowly from side to side. "No." After a beat, he adds, "they both died in a car accident when I was fourteen."

The automatic feeling of sorrow and empathy that happens to me in such situations envelopes me. "I am so sorry, Malik." I reach across the table to hold his hand. He discreetly draws it away and tucks it under the table.

"It is fine," he says, "I am thriving."

"What are you studying in the university?"

"Civil Engineering."

"Awesome."

"You think so?"

"Of course!"

"I recently got hired here," he announces with a modest close-lipped smile.

"Congratulations! I am so happy for you!"

"Thanks." He finishes off his scorn in one last bite and washes it down with the remainder of his coffee. "So, when did you realise that you wanted to be a ballerina?"

The question startles me. "Ever since I was a toddler."

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Nobody knows what they want to do with their life at two or three."

"Well, I did," I say after a sip of coffee, "I have video footages of three year old me dancing ballet."

"For real?" he asks, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

"Yes."

"I am so jealous of you right now."

We laugh simultaneously, like good friends or a couple on a date. A waiter comes over to our table to greet Malik. While they are exchanging pleasantries, I finish off my coffee and summon the courage to rub Shaggy's head.

"Go on," Malik nudges gently when he sees what I am doing. "He likes being scratched behind the ears."

I scratch behind his ears and he lets out a small sound that indicates his satisfaction.

"What about your parents, Gigi." Malik asks me.

I do not look up from Shaggy. "My Dad lives an hour away and my Mum is dead."

He does not apologise or extends condolences the way people do and I find it as a huge relief. "My Dad is my biggest fan. He is so supportive of my dancing."

Malik smiles; it has become a regular gesture of his. "Who would not be? I know you got me hooked in three seconds. I would love to see you dance sometime, Gigi."

"Maybe our next date will be at a dance studio," I say teasingly, feeling bold and adventurous, I add in a wink.

Malik seems shocked for a few heartbeats then he quickly recovers. "So this is a date then?"

I shrug like I could not be bothered about whether our meeting is a date or not. "If you want it to be."

"I can work with that."

"So, it is?"

"Is what?" He lifts a bushy eyebrow, feigning ignorance of what I am asking.

"Is this a date?"

"What do you think my answer is, Gigi?" He leans forward, making everything in my body go in perfectly slow motion.

"An affirmative?" I ask, risking a rejection.

"Congratulations! You have won tonight's game of A Quest of Questions!"

I guffaw so loudly the other customers give me weird looks but I do not care. "You are so funny, Malik," I say amidst laughter.

"Thanks, milady."

"So," Malik begins when he is walking me back to the school. Shaggy is walking in between us on a leash. "Why were you so upset back there at the park? I do not think that all those tears were because I mistakenly hit you."

"Assaulted me, with a ball," I correct with a smirk.

He jokingly slaps his palm with his face. "Of course! I am a monster who goes around assaulting beautiful women's faces with balls. How could I forget?"

Once again, Malik has succeeded in making me laugh. Wait, did he just call me beautiful?

"But I am serious though. Why were you so upset?"

I battle with the idea to tell him about my best friend and my long-time crush. I do not want him to pity me or see me as a reject. The side of me that wants to open up and get the tumult off my chest wins. "I was sad because my best friend went out on a date with my crush." We have stopped walking and are standing on the pavement. When he does not make a sympathetic sounds or comments, I suck in some air and exhale with puffed cheeks then I continue. "It really hurt because days before they went out, he asked me out on a date. Then he began making excuses and started postponing the date. I even asked him out but he said that he was too tired to go out, that was the day we performed together on stage. Maybe they fell in love while they were practising together. You see, she was casted for the main female lead and I was the understudy but she fell ill so I had to perform in place of her. I saw the signs but I ignored them. I should have paid more attention to the way he was concerned about her when she was ill." My voice breaks when I am done. I blink to hold up tears and bite my lower lip to prevent me from wailing.

Malik's hand finds mine and gives it a squeeze—two long pumps and two short ones. I squeeze his back, giving it one long pump. My hand is much smaller than his. It feels warm and cosy like a big blanket on a rainy day. Or a childhood teddy bear on an unsettling night.