The Exes

Chapter 38

38

The second text I received from Mr Ex came while I was en route to Abeo’s place.

Zara

A sweet name.

But has she got a face meant for fame?

How about we make a deal …

Send me a pic of your new beau

And I’ll keep one of The Exes from falling real low.

I felt sick.

How the hell did he know her name? And what secret was he planning to reveal if I didn’t comply? Abeo’s sex tape? Felicity’s choreography theft? Sanjay’s destruction of our head master’s property? Some crime attached to Chloe’s mobster family?

Or maybe something else entirely?

This so-called deal with Mr Ex could irreversibly destroy any of my friendships with The Exes. None of them would understand why Zara wanted to remain anonymous so desperately and they wouldn’t forgive me for not sharing a simple pic to save all that we’d built together.

When Abeo opened his front door, I thrust my phone in his face.

‘Only you, my sister and Felicity knew her name. How the hell did he figure it out?’

Abeo’s eyes narrowed as he finished reading the text. ‘It wasn’t me. And I don’t think Felicity or your sister would snitch either.’

Everyone in my life was watching their own back with Mr Ex because they all had secrets to hide, an image to protect. I simply couldn’t trust anyone at this point … I couldn’t rule out anyone I knew being him . The thought sent shivers through my body.

‘So did he just conjure up her name with his psychic powers?’ I hissed.

‘Now, first things first,’ Abeo replied calmly. ‘Don’t talk to me in that tone. Let’s sit down and discuss this like adults.’

I scoffed. ‘Adults? Not starry-eyed, lovesick little boys? Are you sure you can handle that?’

Instead of retorting, he flounced over to the sofa and gestured for me to join him. The whole place had been cleaned, and every trace of last night’s Halloween escapade had been removed. Abeo had his diplomatic face on, so I decided to fix mine on too.

‘Whatever’s going on between me and Mr Ex,’ he said tightly, ‘is not what you think.’

‘Why don’t you go ahead and clarify what is going on?’

‘I’ve made him believe I have feelings for him. It’s giving me a glimpse into his mind, even access to some of his decision-making.’

I rubbed at my head, at a loss for words. ‘Huh.’

Abeo grunted disapprovingly. ‘Do you seriously think I’d jump ship and abandon the people I’ve grown up with, who I love? For a fling with our unhinged stalker ?’

My cheeks burned.

‘You guys do have this … chemistry,’ I said awkwardly. ‘He’s always complimenting you in his posts while ripping the rest of us down. I thought that maybe you got sucked into his advances.’

He shrugged. ‘I have chemistry with lots of guys – you should see the kind of hotties that slide into my DMs. Regardless of what I may feel for Mr Ex, I’ll never forgive the way he’s tormented us all.’

‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’

Abeo gave me a look. ‘I wasn’t sure if my charm was even going to work on him.’

‘Well, did it?’

His grin was broad. I shouldn’t have underestimated him.

‘If you hadn’t interrupted us,’ he continued with a wink, ‘I may have been able to unmask him yesterday. Anyways, let’s distract Mr Ex, shall we? I’ll make sure your new girl comes off his radar.’

He opened his phone and began typing. I leaned over and saw that he was writing an email to Mr Ex’s official contact account.

Haven’t you had enough fun messing around with Karim’s love life? Give the guy a break and leave his new girl alone.

We sat in silence, waiting for the reply. I jumped a little when Abeo’s phone pinged with a new email. It had been barely five minutes. I leaned over his shoulder and read the response with him.

Nothing comes for free in this world, darling. A deal means an exchange. If your dear Karim can’t handle this one, tell him to offer up something else that could capture my interest. I won’t always soften up just because you’re involved, honey.

Yours Unfaithfully,

Mr Ex

‘We already knew he wouldn’t let us off easily,’ Abeo said. ‘The guy trades in secrets. So, if you want to protect Zara, give him something juicy.’

I began pacing, thinking about what I could give up …

Then it clicked.

‘Tell Mr Ex I’ll give him exclusive footage and insider details from my brother’s wedding. He’ll get the photos before any other reporters or social media pages. Even our own.’

Abeo’s eyes widened with glee. ‘You genius !’

He tapped out a message. I continued to pace, my stomach in nervous knots.

‘It’s done,’ he said smugly.

‘That was bloody close.’ I collapsed on to the sofa, rubbing my eyes.

‘Any idea about what he meant by one of us falling real low ?’

I sighed deeply. ‘No. He’s clearly got something big up his sleeve. Since he’s your secret lover, why don’t you ask him and see whether he dishes?’

Abeo nudged me. ‘I just saved your ass, so how about a little thank you? Oh, and I looked through the Halloween security tapes before you got here. Mr Ex snuck in with a large group of people, and the guard didn’t realize when he slipped right past him.’

‘He’s a slippery little prick, isn’t he?’

‘Slippery maybe,’ Abeo said with a half-smile, ‘but he definitely didn’t seem little.’

I could only keep a straight face for a second before we burst out laughing.

‘You need to chill or Mr Ex might just become your new man,’ I warned. ‘He’ll be stalking you from the proximity of your bedroom.’

My phone buzzed. Zara was calling. A surge of protectiveness swept over me, but I didn’t plan on telling her what had happened in case it stressed her out. The situation with Mr Ex had been handled.

For now, at least.

‘I’m going to take this,’ I told him, and went out to the corridor for some privacy.

‘Hey.’ She sounded upset.

My stomach clenched with unease.

‘Zara? What happened?’

‘It’s about a guy I know from school. His father passed away.’

‘I’m so sorry. That’s awful.’

Her voice quivered. ‘I was so horrible to him in the days leading up to this.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The boys he hangs with were making sexist jokes, so I basically told him I didn’t want to be friends any more.’

I ached to comfort her, to hold her to my chest. ‘It’s OK. You couldn’t have known something like this would happen to his dad. And obviously it isn’t right if the people he hangs with make jokes like that.’

‘But it wasn’t even him directly. I don’t know what to do. Should I reach out or do you think he’d rather not hear from me right now?’

‘Definitely reach out, Zara,’ I said firmly. ‘Losing a parent is the most devastating thing someone can go through. It’s much bigger than petty disagreements.’

‘You’re right – that’s perfect advice. How are you so perfect?’

I chuckled as I leaned against a wall. ‘I’m definitely not. You’ll discover that yourself in due time. I really miss you.’

‘I miss you too.’

‘When can I see you again?’ I asked keenly.

‘Erm … I actually wanted to ask whether you could attend the funeral on Friday. I’m not sure if we’ll even see each other because it’s segregated, but it’ll give you a chance to pray jummah in my local mosque. I know I’m asking you to skip school, but for some reason this janazah feels important to me. I want you there.’

I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d prayed in a mosque …

‘I’ll be there.’

She needed me right now, and I wanted to be there for her.

‘How are you holding up?’ I asked. ‘How’s everything else going?’

‘Home is as awkward as ever. Let’s not even go there. School feels pointless; my teachers just aren’t very good, so I basically have to teach myself everything. I’m still saving up for tuition lessons. I want to start them early next year. I’m currently focusing on completing my university application.’

‘Have you decided what you’re applying for?’

‘Dentistry, for sure,’ she replied instantly. ‘All I need is one offer; I don’t even care what uni I get into. What about you?’

‘Computer science. And I definitely care about what uni I get into. It’s got to be St Andrews.’

‘It feels like there’s a lot in store for us, doesn’t it?’ she said softly. ‘University gives me a sense of hope.’

‘Me too, Zara. Me too.’

The mosque was beautiful.

The place was packed for jummah, but I managed to find a space near the middle.

There were rows and rows of men and boys, sitting shoulder to shoulder, facing the mihrab, listening to the khutbah being delivered by the imam on the importance of charity. He was the only one standing, and he spoke with such eloquence that he held everyone’s full attention.

I felt waves of peace envelop me.

When the adhan was announced and everyone stood in response to the call to prayer, an unexpected surge of emotion clogged my throat. The melodious recitation penetrated all my barriers, directly piercing my heart.

As the prayer began, everyone moved as one, synchronized in their postures, oration and faith. And I was a part of something so much bigger than myself, something that simultaneously stretched throughout history and to the furthest parts of the cosmos, reality and existence.

Shortly after jummah, the body of the deceased was brought out, fully shrouded in a white cloth and positioned in an open coffin. It was placed in front of the imam.

The one thing guaranteed about this life was death – the time we had here was so fleeting, meant to be used wisely, lovingly.

That knowledge was humbling.

Since I’d met Zara, I’d begun doing things that were helping me grow as a person. She inspired me to tap into my deeper thoughts and spirituality in a way no one else did, and it was making me fall hard for her. I couldn’t imagine life without her any more.

As the prayer for the dead came to an end, I headed towards the shoe racks with the crowd. I heard a few whispers of my name, and I instantly tensed. Perhaps it was naive to have hoped the people coming here wouldn’t notice me.

I ducked my head, eager to get into my car as soon as possible.

Zara had made it clear we wouldn’t be able to speak here. I hoped to get at least one glimpse of her, but it certainly wouldn’t be considered modest for me to gawk at the women’s side of the mosque in anticipation.

‘As-salaam-alaikum. You’re Karim Malik, aren’t you?’ a man said, placing a hand on my arm. ‘Can I get a selfie?’

‘Walaikum-assalam, yeah, sure,’ I replied quietly, hoping it wouldn’t attract too much attention.

‘I’m a big fan too,’ a young boy said. ‘Could I also get a selfie?’

I smiled and obliged.

Far too many people were starting to notice, so I swiftly hunted down my shoes from the racks and slipped them on.

At the exit, I witnessed all the emotion the family members had contained while inside. The wails and cries of the mourners sliced uncomfortably through the usual city sounds.

Women were pouring out of the ladies’ section of the mosque.

My heart dropped when I spotted Zara.

She was in a black abaya and hijab, and her face was wet with tears. She looked so different to every other time I’d seen her. She looked … distraught. I tried to get her attention, but her eyes were fixed ahead. I hated that I couldn’t console her.

I followed her gaze and my eyes landed straight on a guy who was holding on to the shrouded body, crying his heart out, refusing to let go.

The whispers and prodding intensified around me until everyone had learned that Karim Malik was among them. And then it seemed that only the immediate family of the deceased were still focused on the funeral; everyone else was looking at me, pointing in my direction, trying to get closer.

But not Zara.

Her eyes never left the man mourning.

‘How do you know the guy whose father passed away?’ I finally asked Zara.

We’d been on the phone for a while; I could tell she was no longer in the low mood that had taken hold of her since the funeral. That meant it was the right time to weave in the question that had been eating away at me. I wasn’t used to feeling jealous, and I knew I was petty and selfish to feel it at a time like this, but I couldn’t help it.

‘Imran? He’s from my school,’ she replied dismissively, but I didn’t plan to drop it so easily.

‘And you’re friends?’

Zara was quiet as she thought about this, and I sat up in bed. Did she pause because they didn’t talk much or because she saw him as something more than friends?

‘I guess so,’ she said finally.

Her curt answers irked me.

‘What does that mean?’ I pressed. ‘How can you not be sure if you’re friends?’

Zara yawned softly. ‘We’re just … from the same community. Thank you for coming to my local mosque today – I have so many memories in that place. I’d love to see where you read the Quran when you were growing up.’

I stuttered for a moment. ‘I didn’t go to the mosque much growing up. Still don’t, to be honest.’

There was an awkward silence.

‘Oh. So where did you read the Quran? Just at home with your parents?’

It surprised me a little – the matter-of-fact way in which she’d said it, as though it was simply how she expected things to be.

‘I can’t read the Quran, but my dad taught me how to pray a few years ago in Ramadan. It was a nice way for us to bond because I don’t really see him much due to his hectic work schedule. Everyone in my family is usually quite busy throughout the year, but in Ramadan things slow down for us all and we have iftar dinners together most evenings and spend time talking about Islam and what spirituality means to us. If I’m completely honest with you, my family only focuses on faith during Ramadan, and we aren’t so practising during the rest of the year.’

‘I see,’ she replied lightly, but I could sense her disappointment.

‘Thank you for encouraging me to come today,’ I added quickly. ‘That’s the first time I prayed jummah at the mosque this year and I think I’ll try to do it more often now.’

‘First time this year?’ she asked in astonishment.

I remained quiet for a while. I could sense her judgement, and doubt began niggling at me again. Perhaps she secretly longed to be with someone who’d grown up with the same values and lifestyle.

Someone like that guy …

‘Have you ever liked Imran?’ I blurted. The question was out before I could contain it. ‘Sorry – you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want.’

‘It’s OK, I don’t mind.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I did like him at one point, just a little childhood crush a long time ago, but nothing ever happened between us. He’s not my main childhood crush though.’

‘Who is?’ I sighed, imagining another good-looking, well-built lad from her community.

‘Karim Malik from The Exes, obviously. I had his picture as my phone’s background, wrote his name in love hearts in my diary, bought a T-shirt with his gorgeous face on it – wore it a few times too.’

I threw my head back and laughed heartily. She joined in, and we didn’t bring up that other guy again.