Chapter 21 #2
“She was. Mama always got real bad secondhand embarrassment from her because whenever something good happened, no matter where we were, she started dancing and singing. I remember this one time, we were all going to the beach, and on the way, teta found a dollar on the ground and broke out dancing and singing in the middle of the sidewalk.”
“And let me guess, you joined?”
“Of course I did!” Sami bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes shining.
“Mama told her to cool it because people were staring, but teta said she was becoming too American and that ‘My freedom is to be what they don’t want me to be’.
That’s from Mahmoud Darwish, her favorite poet.
I have a first edition poetry collection of his in my room that she used to read to me.
She gave it to me the day before she died. ”
The buzzing energy around him faded as a shadow darkened his features. He pulled the kufiya off Baz’s shoulders, cradled it against his chest, and buried his nose in the fabric.
“Her entire life, she only wanted to return home. See the sun set on that beach one more time. But she was denied that right. All of us are.” Sami’s shoulders drooped from the invisible weight placed upon them. Baz couldn’t imagine how big it was.
“I’m sorry,” was all Baz could say again. Slowly, to give Sami the chance to step away if this wasn’t what he needed, he circled his arms around Sami’s waist. Their eyes met with an intensity that made Baz’s breath hitch.
“What really hurts is that someone who looks like you could jump on a plane tomorrow, and you’d have no trouble seeing what’s become of my village. You could move to Haifa if you wanted to and no one would bat an eye. But teta, Mama, me… One day, when we are free. In sha Allah.”
A spark gleamed through the clouds of pain, full of determination, resilience. Baz’s heart cried out for him. He squeezed Sami, hoping the tight embrace would do the same for him as it had for Baz earlier.
A sniffle trembled through Sami’s shoulders. He turned and pressed his face into the crook of Baz’s neck. Being entrusted to hold Sami like this was a privilege Baz might never get enough of.
He pressed a kiss on Sami’s head, glided his fingers through the messy curls. If only he could do more.
“If you keep kissing my forehead, I might fall in love with you.” Sami’s words were muffled by Baz’s collar. Promise or joke, Baz couldn’t tell. But he could—and did—kiss Sami’s forehead again.
“You dick.” Sami made a sound that couldn’t make up its mind whether it was a laugh or a sob. He wiped the wetness from his eyes.
There was so much Baz had to learn about him still, about the shadows that were haunting him, the stories that made him laugh and cry all at once. He hoped to hear them all one day.
“Thank you for sharing this with me. I don’t know what to say to somehow make this less painful, but if you ever want to talk or just… anything, I’d like to be there for you. If you want that too. I mean, if not, that’s fine. I don’t want to force—”
Sami kissed him. Demanding, tender, a touch so full of something Baz didn’t have words for.
It was a candle in the dark, an ever-growing spark filling him with golden sunlight, a feeling so pure, if it were projected onto the rest of the world, it would see humans embrace each other and empires crumble. That was the magic of Sami’s touch.
He had turned Baz’s whole world upside down, and for once, Baz welcomed the change—he had been oblivious to how much he’d needed it. Sami made him feel alive, complete, like he had finally found the place he belonged. Someone with whom he belonged.
The door fell shut. Sami’s lips vanished, their heads turned at the same time. Naija was on her toes, her lower lip pulled down apologetically.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Uh.” Baz’s ears were on fire. How much had she heard? Did she think they were just making out for no reason when that wasn’t—or was it?
Would Sami mind doing more of that, kissing for the sake of kissing?
“You didn’t.” Sami cleared his throat and peeled himself out of Baz’s embrace. Right.
Baz banished the irrational, shrinking feeling in his chest. Of course things weren’t like that between them.
“I should…” Baz pointed to the door. “I mean, you have work. Against me.”
Sami nodded. His lips were beautifully kiss-swollen, slightly parted, so inviting… God, if Baz didn’t leave now, he never would, not without giving Naija a performance the thin walls could not contain. His knees wobbled at every step.
Sami didn’t stop him. He didn’t move at all, though his gaze prickled on Baz’s neck.
The air brimmed around Naija. Her silent smile felt loaded.
“Uh. Bye.” Baz pulled the door shut behind him. His hand lingered on the doorknob. He closed his eyes as he drew a deep breath to calm the heat wallowing through his body. The ghost of Sami’s kiss tingled on his lips.
He couldn’t resist tracing them with his thumb, still sensitive to his touch, lighting fireworks inside him.
A high-pitched squeak from inside made him flinch. The floor vibrated under steady thumps as if someone was jumping up and down, followed by Sami’s throaty laugh, his demand for Naija to “shut up!”
Baz chuckled breathlessly. Perhaps things could be like that between them after all. The giddy feeling that thought sowed in him carried him down the stairs. A part of his heart he left behind in the tiny apartment; he had a feeling Sami would take good care of it.