settle his stomach. You needn't worry, Maman. I left Jabar with a great impression."
Fatima looked like she wanted to say more, but she thought better of it. At least Afia had given the young man a chance, which was more than Fatima could say about others she had tried to persuade her daughter to see. She waved her hands in a shooing motion. Afia's smile lit her face, and she kissed her mother's cheeks, hurrying away so that she could get Rayan home. She rushed to the white Camaro and got in the driver's seat, adjusting it to her height. She put on her seatbelt and pushed the start button. The car purred to life, and she thanked her lucky stars Rayan had gotten drunk, but she also worried about him.
Was it just her imagination or was her normally conservative brother drinking more and more lately? She remembered he had come to the house last week with a flask on his hip. Deep in thought, she drove across the city to the street where his townhome was located. She cast glances in his direction, but he didn't rouse. His soft snore filled the car. Afia grumbled as she killed the engine and tried to figure out how to get his limp body out of the passenger's seat and into the house.
"Rayan," she said his name. She shook his shoulder. He made a sound of dissent. "Rayan, wake up! You're home."
"Unh?" he groaned.
She sighed in exasperation and shoved him harder. With annoyance, she said louder, "Rayan, this is irresponsible of you!"
He shifted from a position slumped with his head against the window to his head pressed against the headrest. His shoved his fists to his eyes and knuckled them clear. He yawned, a sour smell erupting. "Home?" he said groggily, scratching his stomach. His tie was loosened and his shirt had come free of being neatly tucked in his pants. He shoved open the door of the car and stumbled out, moving by habit to his front door. He fumbled in his pockets for keys Afia was still holding.
She frowned and took his keys to the door to let him in, running back out to the car to close and lock the doors and set the alarm. She made sure he was at least stretched out on his couch before dropping the keys on the coffee table and tiptoeing out. Hopefully, at some point, he would come to his senses enough to slide the deadbolt.
Afia skipped down Rayan's front steps and moved to the side of the sidewalk to hail a taxi, realizing for the first time how late it was and how deserted the streets were. Her amber eyes darted from left to right. Not a taxi visible. She saw a suspicious looking character walk by on the other side of the street, and she clung to her purse. She waved her hand again. A taxi passed, but it kept going.
"This is ridiculous," Afia muttered. She ran back up the stairs and let herself into Rayan's house. She thought about calling her parents, but she didn't want to make them leave the party. She just didn't trust lingering on the side of the road, waiting for a cab on the dark, questionable street. Instead, she pulled out her phone, and her thumb hovered over a number she had shied away from calling.
Feeling like she had few other options, (although she technically could've called Bionca, who was likely lounging around their apartment without much to do), Afia impulsively hit the call button for Sam. She stood with her back against Rayan's front door, her eyes never leaving her sleeping brother's face. When Sam answered, she kept her voice hushed.
"Sam?" she whispered.
"Hey, you." He sounded pleased to hear from her.
"I'm in what you would call a bit of a bind."
"Oh, yeah? Anything I can help you with?"
She heard the sound of music playing in the background, people laughing. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No...no, never mind."
"Hey," Sam halted her before she could hang up the phone. "What's up? You okay?"
Afia opened her eyes, as she heard a rustle from the couch, but it was only Rayan turning over in sleep. "I
Fatima looked like she wanted to say more, but she thought better of it. At least Afia had given the young man a chance, which was more than Fatima could say about others she had tried to persuade her daughter to see. She waved her hands in a shooing motion. Afia's smile lit her face, and she kissed her mother's cheeks, hurrying away so that she could get Rayan home. She rushed to the white Camaro and got in the driver's seat, adjusting it to her height. She put on her seatbelt and pushed the start button. The car purred to life, and she thanked her lucky stars Rayan had gotten drunk, but she also worried about him.
Was it just her imagination or was her normally conservative brother drinking more and more lately? She remembered he had come to the house last week with a flask on his hip. Deep in thought, she drove across the city to the street where his townhome was located. She cast glances in his direction, but he didn't rouse. His soft snore filled the car. Afia grumbled as she killed the engine and tried to figure out how to get his limp body out of the passenger's seat and into the house.
"Rayan," she said his name. She shook his shoulder. He made a sound of dissent. "Rayan, wake up! You're home."
"Unh?" he groaned.
She sighed in exasperation and shoved him harder. With annoyance, she said louder, "Rayan, this is irresponsible of you!"
He shifted from a position slumped with his head against the window to his head pressed against the headrest. His shoved his fists to his eyes and knuckled them clear. He yawned, a sour smell erupting. "Home?" he said groggily, scratching his stomach. His tie was loosened and his shirt had come free of being neatly tucked in his pants. He shoved open the door of the car and stumbled out, moving by habit to his front door. He fumbled in his pockets for keys Afia was still holding.
She frowned and took his keys to the door to let him in, running back out to the car to close and lock the doors and set the alarm. She made sure he was at least stretched out on his couch before dropping the keys on the coffee table and tiptoeing out. Hopefully, at some point, he would come to his senses enough to slide the deadbolt.
Afia skipped down Rayan's front steps and moved to the side of the sidewalk to hail a taxi, realizing for the first time how late it was and how deserted the streets were. Her amber eyes darted from left to right. Not a taxi visible. She saw a suspicious looking character walk by on the other side of the street, and she clung to her purse. She waved her hand again. A taxi passed, but it kept going.
"This is ridiculous," Afia muttered. She ran back up the stairs and let herself into Rayan's house. She thought about calling her parents, but she didn't want to make them leave the party. She just didn't trust lingering on the side of the road, waiting for a cab on the dark, questionable street. Instead, she pulled out her phone, and her thumb hovered over a number she had shied away from calling.
Feeling like she had few other options, (although she technically could've called Bionca, who was likely lounging around their apartment without much to do), Afia impulsively hit the call button for Sam. She stood with her back against Rayan's front door, her eyes never leaving her sleeping brother's face. When Sam answered, she kept her voice hushed.
"Sam?" she whispered.
"Hey, you." He sounded pleased to hear from her.
"I'm in what you would call a bit of a bind."
"Oh, yeah? Anything I can help you with?"
She heard the sound of music playing in the background, people laughing. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No...no, never mind."
"Hey," Sam halted her before she could hang up the phone. "What's up? You okay?"
Afia opened her eyes, as she heard a rustle from the couch, but it was only Rayan turning over in sleep. "I
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