Reverie Ch. 02

Rya beamed. "I happen to be very good at making stuff up."

"Great a professional bullshitter." He grumbled.

She cleared her throat, "I'm gonna to ignore that."

Excitement flooded into her. Finally she could match a story to him. With his help, he would even act it out. How cool was that? Also she would be helping him with his unique situation. No one would ever question it. I mean, why would they?

Haseem observed her and noticed how her eyes gleamed in anticipation. It seemed like her mind was running wild. In that moment he knew he was in trouble. He would agree to whatever she said to just see her that glimmer in her eyes again.

"Ok what's your last name?"

"Kamram."

"Kuhmrruhm." She repeated, pronouncing it correctly. She said it like she was savoring the name. His eyes were glued to her mouth as she spoke. The way she rolled the "r" sounded like a kitten he wanted to pet very badly.

"Alright so you're from Pakistan, but at sixteen you were sent to live with your uncle and aunt in London-"

"And what are their names?" He blurted. Despite the fact that his composure was laxed and it looked like he didn't really care, he was actually very interested in the story. It was his after all.

"Your uncle and aunt? I don't know, what are some common Pakistani names?"

After thinking about it he replied, "Call her Sabeem and him Farid."

"Ok so Sabeem and Farid owned a... bakery. It was called Kamram bakery. It was one of the best Pakistani bakeries in north London-"

"It has to be more like east London." He interrupted again.

She let out a deep sigh and continued, "Alright, east London and you worked there until you were eighteen and then went to college-"

"University."

"Huh?"

"We call it University not college."

Rya clenched her teeth. Was he trying to get on her nerves? She'd never had an outsider influence her stories before.

"Okay, it was a fucking university!" She closed her eyes and counted to three.

Haseem bit his lip to conceal his laugh. He knew it. He knew she had a little bit of a temper and he couldn't wait to see what happened when all of her buttons were pushed. Her shy exterior would be a thing of the past. At least with him.

"You completed your pre-med courses and still worked supporting your uncle and aunt's bakery. But suddenly your uncle became ill and had a heart attack. Unfortunately he died and your heartbroken aunt decided to move back to Pakistan to be close to her family. Leaving you alone in London. Shortly after, you decided to come to the states for a fresh start."

He looked at her as she spoke. The story was actually not that bad. It was almost believable. Not to mention her melodic voice stirred something in him. Of what, he didn't know.

"What happened to the bakery?"

"Hmm, oh the bakery? Your uncle left it to you. They never had any children, but he considered you to be his son so he left the bakery to you. But a couple years passed and you fell on hard times and you were forced to sell it with your aunt's blessing. You sent her the money from the sale, but you could only get half what it was worth. That's why one of your goals is to become a wealthy surgeon and buy back your uncle's bakery. You keep in contact with your aunt and every so often she sends you care packages of chai tea and spices."

"Care packages?" He asked confused.

"Yeah, you know when you send packages of goodies to people you care about."

Haseem chuckled.

"What do you think of your story?"

"Not bad. Not bad at all. Who needs to know the truth when you have such great fiction? I think you should write it down just in case I forget."

She pursed her lips. "I don't usually write stuff down, but I guess I can, if it'll be easier for you to remember."

"How do you come up with this shit?"

She shrugged, "Just something I do for fun."

"That's why you like to watch people?"

She nodded slightly as she felt her cheeks heat. God she must sound like a total idiot.

He observed her and wondered what she was thinking. Suddenly he turned serious, "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out myself."

He slowly nodded as though he completely understood. He was still trying to figure out why he felt so comfortable around her.

"So what's your major? Creative writing or something?"

"Actually it's Hospital Administration."

He gave her a funny look.

"What? It's a really good career. It's dependable with great pay."

"If you say so. And you're how old?"

"Twenty-two. You?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Ahh old man," she ribbed.

He smiled and those fucking dimples made her want to scream. "Little girl."

Rya tried to conceal the fact that a million butterflies were flapping away in her belly. She wasn't exactly an expert, but was he flirting with her?

She suddenly felt the urge to flee. "Well I should get going."

He didn't protest as she gathered herself up from the chair, he just continued to stare at her as though trying to figure her out.

Nervously she cleared her throat, "You sure you'll be ok with your application?"

Hungry eyes locked into hers. "I think I can handle it."

He grabbed a pen and held out his hand. "May I?"

At first she wasn't sure what he wanted but conceded and offered her hand.

"When you finish writing my story, give me a call." He said as he softly wrote his number on her palm. She held her breath and kept telling herself to stay cool.