Ayla's pov

I wonder how big of an impact he has on me even though I ignored him practically for 2 whole years. His words still make sense. He makes me wonder about everything else I never think about. His topic never gets old. He carries with him an unforgettable aura and charming conversation maker He wears his flaws on his sleeves, and is not afraid to show them to others. He shows his flaws openly yet he covers himself with layers of truth and false as if he's guarding himself against intriguing eyes. Inquisitive minds. What's truth and what's a lie, he loves to keep himself a mystery giving away who he internally could be. Could be. I wonder if he thinks about me as much as I think about him. I'm up the whole night and it's 5 a.m. and the last thing I should be thinking about is him but I am thinking about him. There isn't a tug at my heart for him or a soft corner if anything there is just an intriguing part that I have been trying to keep under control for 2 years. He had been my silly crush though for a whole month but when I look back he has been my only crush. He was the path where some things turned south for me but I have mended the road. I hear that everything I knew about him was false. Fake. Is it true? Is it false? I don't know. But I hope someday I know it. He asks me questions I've never been asked before and talks about things that had been made taboo to us. I don't know if it is a good thing in particular.
Smoked? Had sex? Got drunk?- Masturbated? Kissed somebody? -The answer is NO! I have not. I am just 16. Fucking Sixteen only! Moreover in a conservative country like Bangladesh where talking about sex is taboo. I know he lies a lot about himself. 2 years ago when I first talked to him he was 17 then or so he said. 2 years later he still says he's seventeen. Liar! Liar! Pants on Fire! So I asked him about his school. Yeah to confirm if he still lies about (A levels or the 12th grade). I know he'll lie and this time I ain't letting go of him so easy. I'll catch him in his pathologic lies with the little hints I can make out of his words. He's if what my cousin, Mikayla says is true, then he's 23 and has a girlfriend 5 years younger, Oh, wait they broke up! No matter what and for some, seriously fucked up reason I want him to tell me this himself. No wonder I had a pretty fat crush on him since I was 14 and then fell for his words without seeing his face in the gram. I guess I almost simped for him. Maybe did. Still, CANT COMPLETELY GET RID OF HIM. And I guess every girl he played these mini-games of his with has always been in a little love with him always.  I don't blame them though.
He's charming He has a sharp jawline with almond eyes with irises neither brown nor black. Sometimes when sunlight would shine through his eyes they would probably seem yellow or so I like to think about anyways. And he has thick lashes, lashes that I'm jealous of. A slender nose and peach-colored complexion. Did I mention he's Adam's apple, that blob is very prominent in his throat. He got the looks and all except he's short. 5'10 I guess or is it 5'8?' But this ain't him. That's the boy in his profile picture. My cousin says  Sadaf Tahrim isn't his real name. That he's using a fake account. That's the problem. I know him still I don't know him.

Guess what? Yes, he lied. He said he's going to give his GCSE the next year as if he's drinking water from the fountain of eternal youth or maybe he has been failing for the past two consecutive years or maybe the time has stopped where he lives. Now I'm sure he's bluffing somewhere. Maybe this account he uses is fake. The pictures are fake. He is fake. Why does he lie so much? But then why do I care so much? I mean you create fake accounts to catfish and fake a character different than yours. Just like I and my friends use that same old account to catfish. I talk to him with a fake account too. But then how does he have so many likes and comments on his posts and even his replies to those comments that look so realistic, where do those come from and so many followers? He has 10k followers in a fake account! The fake account that I and my cousins use has only 300 followers and that too borrowed from a fake Instagram follower raise app. I'm awestruck. I hate that the first thing I did in the morning is check if he texted back. I'm pathetic. I pray my Fajr prayer and pray loudly "Ya Allah keep me away from shaytan in human form as much as its true form!" before I  go back to sleep some more.

Do I really need to think about someone like that in the morning? You know what? I'm the creepy guy. I am in the washroom looking in the mirror. My bed hair is all frizzy. I cup my face in my hands and gosh do I look like a round ball!  Bloat and very puffy. I look funny. I brush my teeth and splash lots of water on my face. Did my face shrink a little, do I look a little unbloated? Nah! I've been eating too much. I'm too fat, Arghhh. Whatever. Reminds me of that song by Jessia:
"Maybe I'm not pretty, maybe I'm just fun," I grab on my belly and it goes like, "Cause I got a belly and I got a bum and I'm always jelly...", I sing as my brother walks in.
"Frog got stuck in your throat or did someone die? ", he says irritated written in bold on his face.
"What do you mean? That's really rude", I say brushing my hair back and pulling it into a bun.
"Don't sing. I got a stroke of bad luck for the rest of the day and it's only the morning. So just shut up!", he screeches at me. He walks in closer to me and presses his palm firmly on my mouth so I can't sing. I hit him with my elbow on his chest and walk out of the washroom.
"Then you can get out of here or put in earplugs or cut your ears off. This is not your house. I can do whatever I want and I will sing if that's what I want and be a rockstar", I say dancing dramatically as I walk out of the room.
"I'm falling in love with my rump-bum-bum...", I sing as I walk out of the room.
"My ears are bleeding, they'll fall off, this is my room, get out!", he closes the door in my face while holding his ears shut. Who does he think he is? That 14-year-old jackass! I am older! The doorbell rings and the tune of "Happy Birthday to You" goes off even though it's no one's birthday.
"Ayla, open the door", my mom shouts from her bedroom. I hesitantly go to open the door and peek outside the peeking hole, but no one's outside. Did Ms.Jasmine's young pawns of Satan do that? Why do they always have to pull this pathetic prank on me? I have to get out of wherever I am to open the door to find no one. I unlock the door to make sure Tayla or Aseya aren't here and they are not, unexpected. I look left and right and it's still no one. As I'm about to shut the door I notice something. A small piece of red paper is on the doormat. I take it up and it reads:
"I Dare you to call on this number: 018********".
I walk outside the door and look across the staircase. No one. I look at the elevator and it reads "G" for the ground floor. Who could have been that?
"Well if I dared to call you, would I be rewarded? Would you give me money? Maybe buy me food?", I shout outside.
No one. Nothing. Only a gush of wind passes by.
" Yeah, I thought so. I take it as a No then."
The rooftop is still under work, I guess some labor wrote it. Maybe it's one of the many lovers of my caretaker, Amena, who wrote it for her. I take the paper inside and close the door. My mom wouldn't like it very much if I gave it to the caretaker so I throw it in the dustbin, where it rightfully belongs.