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There was a long moment of silence.

Even though I was avoiding looking at him out of embarrassment, and slight emotional confusion,  I noticed the book in his hand. It was hard for me to see a book anywhere without reading the title. Especially a book that he held.

He has a real name now, silly. He's Akram!

((The Making Of A Concert Grand.))

" Interesting book?" I pointed out with a motion of my chin. It was about pianos which was really intriguing. Who didn't love piano?

"Ah! Yes! It's for school. I'm in Juilliard. "

"Oh, That's nice!"

"Yeah! Music is my life."

" What's your major?"

"Piano, obviously, " he chuckled. The sound was refreshing. " I'm planning to take jazz next. I work at the jazz club nearby." He motioned with his hand then ran his fingers through his hair. It was short and neat at the sides, a little longer strands in the front. His hair was dark gleaming brown, soft and thick and ruffled by his fingers and the gentle wind.

" You're a Juilliard student and you have to work?" I asked.

Everybody knew that Juilliard was like the most expensive and distinguished art school in the country if not in the world. It's either he'd won a prodigious scholarship for his extraordinary talent or he was talented and rich at the same time. Which was impressive either way.

" Uh! I don't have to work but I want to. I prefer to know that I can support myself," His eyebrows pulled down a little. " plus, it's a good practice."

"Sorry. What's your name again?" I urged him to say it again with his soft spoken tone.

"Akram." He repeated, his smile wide, drawing cute lines at the sides of his face.

The way he pronounced his name was so unique. He had no particular accent when he spoke but he rolled the letter R while he enunciated his name in quite an exotic way.

"Unusual name." I noted.

He chuckled. "It's Arabic. I consider myself three quarters Egyptian. "

"Wow! But you don't look Arabian." I blurted out. My comment sounded ridiculously thoughtless once it came out of my lips.

"And... how do Arabian look like?" He suddenly seemed cautious as he narrowed his eyes, his voice guarded.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend. I just didn't expect... You don't have..." I waved my hand around my chin.

"Oh! Actually, the bushy beard is optional. So is the big gun. or the sword. or the camel. Depends on which channel you prefer watching ." he joked but his smile was tight and unbelievably charming.

My cheeks must have turned crimson red, feeling that I was unintentionally rude. "I really didn't mean that... I don't have many friends here so I'm mostly in the dark, social-wise."

"You're not from here?" His expression softened again.

"No. I mean... yes I was born here but it's just, uh... difficult to get along with people." That half truth would do. He was my customer and my stalking subject but still a stranger any way. I didn't have to tell him everything about me.

"I totally understand." he smiled compassionately. "I'm basically in New York just to study and work. No friends either."

"Have you been living in Egypt before that?" I was curious about ancient Egyptian history since I was in school so the topic was fascinating to me.

"No. I was born and raised in New Jersey. My father was born in Egypt but my mother was born in the States. we're kind of an interesting blend." His eyes softened as he mentioned his parents and I could glimpse the warm earthy color of his large irises. Exactly the color of cinnamon that I'd sprinkled over his cappuccino many times before he knew I existed.

" You in college?" he asked.

"No. I graduated high school last year but currently I'm taking a break. " that was enough for now. It should be OK that I was talking to him at all, which kind of amazed me when I caught myself enjoying the conversation. After the previous episode, I was even more surprised that I was able to breathe and act normally. I was grateful for his distraction that took my mind off contemplating what just happened. Most probably, I was just on my way to losing my sanity minutes ago. Maybe he just delayed the inevitable.

His smooth lips twitched as if he was going to ask why, but then he changed his mind and pressed them shut into a soft line. He turned his face to look ahead.

I looked away too, not able to stare at him for long. God, I was humiliated in front of the only guy I found attractive for a long time. And my pigtails  looked like the hair of a 6 year old !

Not only did I feel embarrassed of how I looked, but I was also aware of the fact that even though we've been making small talk and he's been really friendly, that I was too cowardly to wish for anything more. Not ever.

I can just enjoy the moment, I placated myself.

"Does this happen to you a lot?" He asked gently as I turned my face toward his. There was a tender look of compassion in his eyes.

"Not really. It's just... I can't bear it to see a child crying. I don't know what came over me."

It wasn't the first time though. I just refused to remember the first time I'd been through this disgrace. I wanted the memory to burn in hell. That was probably why I was scared of being close even though it comforted me.

"Yeah... I know what you mean." His expression was indescribable.

He did? Did he have a soft spot for crying children too?

"Can I, maybe, get you a drink? or anything? There's a nice coffee shop that I visit frequently, it's a short walk from here." He offered .

I chuckled discreetly. I knew exactly the place he meant. He just didn't know I'd been watching him for the last couple of months from behind the coffee machine.

"I know the place. I work there. and no thank you. " I restrained a grin that was going to overflow across my face. It was strangely exhilarating to know he may take notice. Or so I hoped. But there was something else nagging my mind, like a thin needle stinging me whenever I wanted to be more comfortable.

I shouldn't be comfortable with him. Or anyone for that matter. I wasn't good for anyone. It was a huge risk but I couldn't resist this morbid interest. It was against my will.

"You do?" His thick eyebrows raised in surprise. " Have you been working there for a long time? Because I... don't think that I met you!"

" I have been working there for over 2 months?"

" Have you ever waited on me? I'm so sorry I don't remember. " he rubbed his forehead looking embarrassed and I noticed his slim long fingers that perfectly suited his field of study.

"No, I'm not a waitress. I'm a barista. I just make the drinks behind the counter." I explained sheepishly.

"Oh! so you did recognize me?"

"Y..yeah! " was all of my answer before my gaze dropped down again, feeling like an oddball or rather a sneaky disgusting stalker but somewhat I was still inwardly thrilled and timid... and foolish.

He followed suit, respecting my silence by not asking any more questions.

A few minutes passed and he was still sitting beside me on the bench, absently ruffling the pages of his book with his elegant fingers while his eyes observed the spacious verdant lawn with a serene expression.

He didn't look like he was planning to go anywhere or open his book again. I looked forward, meditating, as the park suddenly seemed quiet and tranquil even with the kids hopping and skittering around in a not so far distance.

The sun was sparkling cheerfully in the blue sky and the birds were chirping with beautiful songs. It was midday but the breeze was benign and refreshing under the shade of the tree branches above our heads that canopied the bench we both shared.

With this sense of tranquility seeping through me, I inhaled slowly, savoring the fresh oxygen and the smell of the lush grass that seemed brighter than before, a vibrant green, so inviting that I could sleep on.

There was a tangible buzz in the air. Something I couldn't grasp. A special zest that seemed to paint everything around us. It made my heart beat faster but not from the panic. Just the opposite. it was a spectacular feel-good moment that diffused all my worries for now.

Covertly, I turned my head to watch Akram's expression. His eyes were closed, his chin pointing out slightly. I wondered what he was thinking. He seemed completely wrapped up inside his own mind.

Could he feel it too?

I longed to study his face from a close distance but he didn't give me that chance. He shifted then turned to meet my eyes and it was hard to see anything else.

"How are you feeling?" His gentle voice reached my ear to add a hint of cinnamon to the delightful buzz.

I sighed. " I'm feeling great. Thank you. " my lips curved gratefully.

"You're welcome. " He grinned. "I was thinking... Do you mind...uh! having a new friend? I could use some friends around here. If that's okay?" He ran his fingers through his hair. His smile notably tight, but it never took away the warmth that radiated from his eyes. His anxious gaze focused on my face, clearly waiting for an answer.

My eyelids fluttered a couple of times at the unexpected request. The gears in my head began to cackle randomly.

Why on earth would he want to be friends with me?

Not that I hated the idea but... I was sure I came off as a looney just a few minutes ago, slobbering and bawling like a cranky baby. He must've watched the whole fiasco before he came over to pacify me. Someone like him could get all the friends he needed at his upscale art school. He should be hanging out with smarter, more refined folks than I was. Why would he think I could make a good friend any way? It really didn't make sense but.....

"Umm! Yeah. Sure." I heard myself automatically uttering the words.

That was not me saying Yes so easily, was it? It was my evil twin!

My fingers flew up to tuck my hair behind my ears.

Well, he seemed like a really nice guy. It wasn't that I didn't want to be his friend. I Just wondered why he would bother. It felt that there's a catch I didn't understand.

God! I'm so messed up! It's just friendship! Why not?

"It's a pleasure. " his face shone. I'd never seen anyone smile like that.

Avoiding his intense eyes, I quickly turned to pick up my bag.

I don't want to leave! Why am I leaving?

I stood up and swept my hands over my clothes, smoothing the wrinkles and hopefully removing the dirt from the fall on the ground. No doubt I looked like a train wreck.

Seriously, How desperate am I?

Then again, How could I refuse his friendship when he just rescued what was left of my dignity in front of strangers? I made a fool out of myself and he was gentlemanly enough to accept my foolishness and try to mend my damaged pride. He was my hero.

Friendship is safe. I can live with that. I reassured myself.

Akram got to his feet at the same time with a lithe movement, reached down to grab my book, which I completely forgot, from under the bench. His eyes shot a fleeting look at the title before he handed it to me. I reached to take it from his hand but he was still holding on to the edge of the binding, a gentle smile on his lips as he glanced at me.

" See you tomorrow then?" He raised his eyebrows. His eyes were so pretty they begged for my attention and made me want to look away at the same time.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

He released the book and we shook hands again. It was brief like a fleeting summer breeze but this time I savored it and felt the delightful buzz one more time, before our hands disconnected and we went separate ways.

******

SOOOO how do you feel about Akram so far? I gotta tell you I will not allow criticism of my favorite son so beware!!
((just kidding!))

**If you'd like to read a spin-off of this chapter, please check out my one shot (First Sight) from my my other book (One Shots and Contest Entries)
I hope you'd enjoy it too. ;)

##Shout out for my lovely and talented friend VanillaCaramelLatte and her fantastic story (Recovering Our Own) please give it a shot it's really good...