It was cold. Nakia had made the mistake — not that she would ever admit that — of not listening to her mom when she had left the house, and she was suffering the consequences. Her shoes pitter-pattered against the concrete as she scurried inside, her arms wrapped around her in a vague attempt to stay warm.
Great. She thought, not only do I have a Chem test today, I’ll be freezing my ass off during the test. Great…
“Nakia!” The aforementioned girl turned to see her best friend grinning at her as she ran full speed. Before she could think, Nakia had been swept up in a tackle-hug. Kamala’s skinny arms were wrapped around her, and she felt her cheeks heat up. Kamala let go after a minute, her smile stretching from ear to ear.
“Dude,” She said, her expression turning blank – or at least she tried to turn it blank. The corners of Kamala’s lips lifted up and her eyes twinkled like dew on morning soil. Nakia appreciated the effort, at least.
“What’s up?” She unknowingly mimicked Kamala’s expression — my mom was right when she said that Kamala’s emotions were infectious.
“Look!” She twirled around and only then did Nakia notice the Captain Marvel symbol sewn on her jacket.
“That’s awesome!” Nakia said. Vaguely, she wondered where Bruno was, but she decided she didn’t care. Not right now, when Kamala’s smile was directed at her. (It felt like a million bucks).
Annoyingly, one of the doors opened near them, making Nakia remember, oh yeah, I’m severely underdressed. Kamala seemed to notice her shiver because her brows immediately creased in concern.
“Nakia, you good?” She nodded, despite the fact, that her fingertips felt like popsicles. Another gust of air brushed past her, causing Nakia to pull her hijab lower over her face in hopes of warming herself up. It did help — a bit. But not nearly enough.
Kamala started taking off her jacket, her favourite murky green one that she had been proudly flaunting all but five minutes ago. Nakia stared at her, confusion evident as the brown-haired girl shoved it into her face.
“Take it, Kiki, I’m boiling anyway, it’s not like I’ll keep it on long. Mom made me wear, like, a bajillion layers today,” Reluctantly, Nakia gently took it from Kamala’s grasp, putting it over her clothes. She smiled.
“Thanks, Kamala,” She said softly as she wrapped it around herself. Her nails dug into the gruff material, and she didn’t feel as cold anymore.
“Man, it looks so much better on you!” Kamala joked, “I should just let you keep it!”
Nakia laughed along, smiling as her chest filled up with a buzz. It travelled from her chest to her toes, and it felt like she was floating. Still, she gave Kamala a bittersweet smile before they had to part ways. She cast one last glance behind her, and she exhaled roughly. Nakia sent one last longing look to the girl behind her as she thought; If only you knew how much I liked you.
The bell rang, snapping Nakia out of her reverie, but if you asked her about what she learned that day, she wouldn’t know. All she could think of was how the coat smelled; like vanilla, lemon, and something else, something sharp she couldn’t exactly pinpoint.
I wish I were Kamran. It was the only thought in her mind as Kamala blushed and smiled goofily. It was like watching a romcom in action.
And Nakia wasn’t enjoying it one bit.
Letting out a soft sigh, she hugged her chemistry book close to her chest. The edge dug into her skin, and it took a few seconds to remind herself that she couldn’t glare daggers at him. Her gaze moved to Bruno, who was unapologetically glowering at the brown teen as he slung an arm over Kamala’s shoulder.
“What does she see in him, anyway?” He grumbled, turning away from the duo.
Nakia’s lips lifted upwards, “You sound a little jealous Bruno,” She teased, playfully jabbing him in the side as he attempted to splutter an excuse. Her mood soured when her eyes flickered over and she saw Kamran wearing Kamala’s sweater. The same sweater she had lent her all those years ago (okay, maybe it was, like, a year ago, but let her be dramatic).
Oh, a bitch gonna die . Nakia started to stomp over there, her expression frosty. She was trying to hide the fury brewing in her chest, only for the storm brewing behind her eyes to screech to a halt like a speeding car at a red light.
How could I hate him? He’s like an angel.
Nakia pursed her lips, huffing slightly before stepping a few times back to where she had been initially, where Bruno had started to rant about Kamran: “— and really, he’s not even that cute! And I swear he gets my name wrong on purpose —“
His words went in one ear, out the other as the two leaned against the cool brick wall. Her fingertips traced the divots between each brick, the rough texture giving her something to focus on. She outlined a heart, before ghosting the letters K + N against the chipped paint (this was the part in a Bollywood movie where she would burst out in song about forbidden love, and how Kamala could ‘never know her affections’) (It was funny how it was kinda true).
Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty as you. Nakia’s lips tingled in as she imagined what it would be like. Would Kamala’s lips be soft? What would she taste like? What —
“-Kia, Nakia, you alive?” Fingers snapped in front of her face, unwillingly bringing the girl back to reality. She internally grumbled, sighing as she eyed Bruno with annoyance painted over her features.
“Yes,” Her eyebrows creased as her lips turned downwards. “What do you want?” Her tone was harsher than she meant it to be, and she softened it as she said: “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night, what’s up?”
Bruno put his hands in his pockets, and he shrugged as his chocolatey eyes followed Kamran and Kamala, who giggled as they whispered to each other (like second graders). (Nakia had never wanted to be a second grader more than at that moment).
A cool breeze brushes by, hugging her body and wrapping her skin with a chill. Kamran grins, thanking her profusely for the coat. Kamala’s eyes twinkled like pools of molten copper. She likes him better.
I wish it was me. She’s watching their show. And she’s not liking it one bit – and she misses the warmth of Kamala’s laugh more than she could ever articulate.