"So?" she asked casually.

"What?" I replied, confused.

"Anything new? Any girlfriend?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.

"You know, I don't do girlfriends," I said matter-of-factly.

"Then?" She was in the mood to tease me.

"I'll make someone my wife," I responded, looking directly into her eyes. She immediately looked down at the table, fidgeting with her fingers. She seemed nervous, though I didn't know why.

"Yeah, right," she nodded and glanced at me through her long lashes. "You're boring," she said with a forced smile.

"I'm not boring. I have morals, and I want to maintain them," I replied proudly. I take pride in having principles.

No girlfriend before marriage. No intimate relationships before marriage. I can do whatever I want with my wife after marriage. Simple. If that makes me a boring person, so be it.

"Siddy, you're 26," she said matter-of-factly. "You should have a girlfriend and explore that relationship."

"Like how?" I leaned closer, resting my forearms on the table. "Having sex with her before marriage?"

Her face lost all color, and her eyes widened in shock and lips parted. She couldn't believe I said the word "sex" so casually. What else would I call it?

I leaned back in my seat. She still looked stunned. My eyes landed on her parted lips. A strange, wild and inappropriate thought crossed my mind seeing her lips, I wanted to kiss her lips. I know it was a wild inappropriate thought. But it came, for the first time. I never got that feeling or thought before.

What's wrong with me? I questioned myself in mind.

I then my eyes again locked on her parted lips. Her lips were the perfect shade of reddish-pink, perfectly shaped. I knew they were soft; she had kissed me many times on my cheeks, forehead, hands, and chest when we were kids.

It's wrong. My mind reminded me.

Pushing that wild inappropriate thought aside, I continued, "I know my age, Naaz. But what's the point of having a girlfriend when I can have a wife instead?"

I mean, I could have one. I'm 26, own a thriving electronics business, have my own house, car, and a bike- though I was considering giving the bike to Rizwan, who asked for it a month ago. I'm well-settled. Any girl's parents would gladly give me their daughter.

"I was just saying!" she shrugged.

She looked a little off, so I decided to tease her to lighten her mood.

"Naaz, you're 23. Where's your boyfriend?" I mocked.

"He's already dead," she replied confidently, though sadly. I knew she had never had a boyfriend, thanks to me. She blames me. "Thanks to you, protective asshole friend."

"Don't curse," I said, and she rolled her eyes in irritation. I decided not to push further. "Well, you look depressed. Should I find you one?" I laughed.

"No, thank you. Anyway, God knows where the fuc- he is?"

"I'm impressed with your effort, Naaz. Seriously," I said honestly.

"Thanks. But it's difficult for me. You know that."

"I know," I nodded. "But keep trying, you'll succeed one day." My words had a hidden meaning.

"Are you hinting about my dead boyfriend?" she asked, perceptive as always.

"Kind of," I nodded.

"But he's already up there," she laughed. "If he were alive, I'd be here with him, not my best friend."

It stung a little, though I didn't know why.

"Don't say that. I'm sure you'll find him soon," I assured her. "Just look around you."

"Yeah, right," she nodded. "I hope you also find her soon."

"Maybe I already have one. You never know," I winked.

She laughed. "Oh God!"

"You were joking, weren't you?" she asked once her laughter subsided.

"Maybe, maybe not," I teased.

"Who is she?" she asked, desperation in her voice. I enjoyed it. "Where is she? Tell me."

"There's no one, Naaz," I admitted.

She playfully hit my arm. "Bluff master," she laughed. "You scared me."

"Why?" I asked seriously.

"Huh?"

"Why did you get scared knowing I had a girlfriend?"

"I don't know," she looked confused. "Maybe I don't want to lose you."

I took her hands in mine. "You'll never lose me, Naaz. We're good friends, and we'll always be good friends."

She nodded. "I hope so," though she still looked unsure.

"Okay, I have an idea," I said impulsively.

"What is it?"

"If we don't find partners in the next two years, we'll get married. What do you say?"

She laughed. "There's no way you won't find a girl, Siddy." Her voice became serious. "Any girl would die to marry you."

"Even you?" I asked seriously.

"I don't know," She shrugged. "I never saw you like that."

"Yeah," I nodded. "We're good friends."

"Definitely, good friends," She agreed, smiling.

Our order arrived, and we dug into our food like hungry kids. It was a competition- we always did this. Whoever finished first got an ice cream treat from the loser. Unfortunately for Naaz, she always lost.

"Looks like you'll lose again, Naaz," I mocked.

"STFU and eat, Hulk," she chided.

I chuckled at how cleverly she used the abbreviation to curse. "You're smart."

"IKR?" she laughed.

Our laughter died when we saw a tall figure in a black t-shirt, leather jacket, and pants, smoking a cigarette. He had an evil smirk on his face. It was Zahir, the bad boy.

I hate him.

"I'm going to kill him," I told her.

"Calm down, please," She begged, seeing my fist clenched and ready to punch him.

He walked over to our table and pulled a chair from another table. "Hey! Lovely people," he said sarcastically. "Are you guys on a date now?" Zahir mocked as usual.

"What if I say yes? Is there a problem?" I asked angrily.

"Siddy, relax" Naaz said, grabbing my hand to calm me down.

My blood pressure couldn't stay normal around him. He disgusted me.

"No. Why would I have a problem?" His words sounded insincere.

*Does he have feelings for Naaz?* The thought crossed my mind, and I felt a surge of anger and possessiveness. I said something which I didn't want to.

"Where's your slut?" I asked about his girlfriend.

I usually don't disrespect women, but she fits the description. She sleeps with random guys frequently. Once, she tried to seduce me. never told anyone except Naaz. I hate Zahir with a passion.

"You!" He snapped, banging his hands on the table. "Watch your tongue," Zahir warned, showing a fist.

"You, leave us alone," I warned, showing a fist as well. I didn't fear him.

Naaz sat quietly, waiting for one of us to make the first move. She loves drama.

"Don't call my girlfriend a slut again, or I will shut your mouth for good," Zahir warned.

"And you, stay away from us. Especially from her. Do you understand?" I said, pointing at Naaz.

She was busy eating her food quickly to win our competition. I almost laughed and then looked back at Zahir.

"Leave, before I punch your ugly face," I mocked.

"You,"

The next moment, a hard punch landed on my face, leaving a bruise on my right cheek. Naaz finally stopped eating and gasped in shock as we started punching each other.

"Wow! So good" She remarked, impressed by the fight.

I was ready to kill him, but to my surprise his punches didn't hurt me as much as mine did to him. He was bleeding.

"Okay! Enough, both of you," Naaz finally intervened, trying to separate us.

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me away. I let her, but not before kicking Zahir. He groaned in pain, lying on the floor holding his stomach.

"Can you help us kick this goon out of the restaurant?" She asked the manager mockingly.

"Yes, ma'am," The manager rushed over to pull Zahir off the floor and take him away.

Naaz forcefully made me sit back down. "Don't you dare show your face again, or you'll be six feet under," I warned.

"And don't call my girlfriend a slut. You don't even have a girlfriend. What a shame, pretty boy." He mocked one last time before leaving the restaurant, pushing the manager aside.

"Mannerless," I muttered. "l'm going to kill him someday."

"Calm down."

"How can I calm down? You know why I hate him" I said angrily.

"I know," She replied softly, rubbing her fingertips gently on my upper hand making me calm a little.

"Well, what were you doing?" I asked, eyeing her plate. I remember what she did back then.

"I was eating my food." She replied innocently. "I didn't want to lose. But I will give you a treat today. You deserve it," She added, pointing to my bruised and slightly bloody face.

I quickly cleaned the blood with tissue paper. It hurt, but I didn't show it to her.

"Do I look bad?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Is your girlfriend here? Hiding somewhere?" She mocked, looking around.

"You're annoying. I swear to God," I laughed.

"You're looking fine to me," She assured me, ignoring my comment.

We finished our food and left the restaurant. She whined like a toddler, demanding ice cream, but I ignored her and looked for an Uber.

"Siddique! lce cream," She cried like a baby.

"OMG! Fine. I-" I changed my statement. "You go and buy ice cream for us." She frowned. "You are the loser, come on!"

"Mean AF!" She cursed me and went to a nearby shop to buy ice cream for us.

"She knows how to curse me all the time using short forms," I chuckled, busy finding a ride.

"Come fast,"' I said, opening the door for her.

"Thank you," She said, getting in first and sitting by the window. I sat next to her and closed the door as the car started moving.

"I got your butterscotch," She handed me.

"Thanks for the treat," I said, taking a bite. It was good. I love butterscotch.

"You're welcome," She said, busy with her vanilla and chocolate mix ice cream.

"Can I have a bite?" I asked, pointing to her ice cream. Suddenly, I had an urge to taste it.

"Umm," she hesitated.

It felt awkward. We weren't kids anymore. Sharing food was different now.

"It's okay. I will try it next time when you lose again," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Next time I will win," She argued, determined.

I liked her confidence but reality is different.

"We'll see, Sadigi alsaghir," I challenged.

"Stop calling me that. I'm not a baby anymore," She chided. She hates when I call her by that name. But, I noticed her cheeks turning pink. Cute.

"For me, you are," I laughed, but my voice was serious.

"Yeah! Your baby sister, brother." She chided.

I recoiled at the mention of "brother and sister." It felt weird. Plus, we aren't related.

"Don't say that again. It sounds weird. We're friends. That's it. No need to add more relationships between us," I said in disgust.

"Yeah," She agreed. Good.

We reached outside her house building after an hour and got down. My plan was: I would drop her off here, then walk home. It would take me around 20 minutes to reach my place on foot.

"Naaz, can you go inside by yourself, or should I walk you to your door?" I asked, standing outside her building.

"No, thanks," She replied with a smirk. I noticed her raising her middle finger at me. She put it down halfway, but it was too late; I had already seen it.

"Naaz! Do you often show this finger to people?" I asked angrily. My voice was loud enough that she flinched in fear.

"No."

"Naaz, be honest," I insisted, knowing she was lying.

"Okay, yes. I'm sorry." She admitted. "I will try not to do it again."

"You better follow through on that." She nodded.

"I will try my best." She promised.

"I don't know how your husband will handle making you do the right things in the future," I said, noticing her making faces. "Don't make faces. It's wrong, Naaz, and you know it. Good people don't do that."

"Okay, Professor Siddique," She mocked. "But I want to point out that good people don't get into physical fights, either." She added, referring to my fight with Zahir.

"Naaz, you know why I hate him. You know why I always react like this," I said, feeling hurt.

"Siddy, I-"

I cut her off, "You'd better not provoke me. Understand?" I left in a hurry, still feeling the sting of our conversation.

••

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