Love from A to Z(76)

But he had leaned forward to look at me.

Then we switched and missed each other again.

Auntie Nandy looked at me. But it was with a Slytherin-like smile.

“Did you plot this in some way? Him being here?” I whispered to her.

“Shh, people are trying to listen,” she said, the sly smile lingering on her face. “Little kids are singing and dancing. And some kids are falling in love.”

“Auntie Nandy, stop,” I whispered again, making the mistake of looking his way.

He shot me another smile.

I’d never seen him look so happy.

He was bursting with it, and it suited him so well.

In all ways.

The things I’d read about MS flooded my brain just then.

Because I hadn’t only been researching drones and warfare.

I’d also been reading about Adam’s disease.

How it didn’t need to be a death sentence.

And while I was reading, I’d been itching to tell him what I’d found.

He needed to know, he needed to see that there was hope ahead, so I smiled back at him.

And he sent me a rose emoji.

? ? ?

We sat through the Star Wars theme, and then he got up and left the amphitheater.

I waited for a while. Then I did too.





ADAM


TUESDAY, MARCH 19


MARVEL: ZAYNEB . . . I MEAN, WATER


That first day in Doha, when you were over at my house, I’d wanted to show you the night sky above the water.

But I didn’t get to.

Now I can.

There’s a beach right in front of the theater.

? ? ?

In the lightly breezy night air, I waited outside the amphitheater.

It was just me and a few stragglers lining up for tickets, and I realized something.

Maybe she’d be reluctant to follow me because she might not be sure that I knew the protocol. Of us interacting.

Btw, I’ll follow the rules. Like, we won’t be alone. My dad’s taking Hanna to play on the beach too.

And I’ll never touch you. Of course.

I paused. Until you give me permission, I mean. Until your family does. Until everyone does, I mean.

As I cringed at the awkwardness of the message, someone cleared their throat nearby. “I know you’d follow the rules, Adam.”

To look up to see her standing there—beaming, beautiful face framed by a teal scarf, vibrant against the cream color of the amphitheater—felt like a dream that I could hold on to in vivid detail. “Hi. Salaam. Zayneb.”

“Walaikum musalam.” She smiled again and looked down the wide, shallow steps to the left of her, leading to the beach part of Katara. “This enchanting sky and the water?”

“This way.” I began going down the stairs, then paused midway and turned to her, standing a few steps above me. “Hey, I’m really sorry about the way our trip to the museum went. I just wanted to say that first. I didn’t pause to think about what you could have been going through with your teacher.”

She stopped too and shrugged. “Maybe I wasn’t seeing straight either, because I was so caught up with being upset. And I had this weird feeling about my dad going to Pakistan. I’m sorry too. For yelling at you. So sorry, Adam. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“That family? At the exhibit next to us? They acted like we were a museum display too.” I laughed, and her laughter joined easily with mine.

It was an amazing sound.

We continued the descent in perfect silence.

At the bottom of the stairs we emerged onto a paved ramp, and at the end of that, after we rounded a corner, the beach stretched before us, lit with lights lining a path cutting through the sand, as well as lights along the edges behind us, where the sand met the paved walkway fronting restaurants.

I was right, we wouldn’t be alone. Clusters of families and friends were grouped here and there, either sitting on the beach or on the benches along the boardwalk behind it.

The colorful street-food carts on the boardwalk caught my gaze. “Wait here? There’s something I gotta get you.”

She nodded and turned to look at the dark water, twinkling with the lights of numerous boats moored in the distance.

? ? ?

When I returned with two steaming cups of karak and two hot chapatis, balanced on a flimsy, folded cardboard tray, Zayneb was sitting on one of the brightly colored beach chairs dotting the beach. But it was right next to a family.

“Here, this spot is for you.” She took a towel off one of the chairs beside hers and hung it on the back of it. “There aren’t any empty seats around. I was looking for a pair for us, and these kind people just told me to take two of theirs. That they were using their blanket, too.”

“Thanks.” I passed her one of the teas before sitting down. “I remember you saying you were a tea person. This is something everyone visiting Doha has got to try. Karak. And chapati.”

I passed her the flatbread, rolled in white paper.

She took the lid off the tea and let the steam warm her face, eyes closed. “Mmm, chai. Smells amazing. Thanks.” She opened her eyes and smiled at me before unrolling her chapati to rip a small piece off. “I’m suddenly ravenous.”

“Oh man, look at those waves.” I bit into the toasty flatbread as I watched the water lapping the shore with foam-speckled edges.