A Long Ride

“Are you going to get up or not, Areena? It’s already eight in the morning,” Mom said, her voice cutting through my half-asleep haze as she opened the curtains. The morning sunlight flooded my room, brightening everything in its path.

“Yeah, Mumma. I’m getting up,” I mumbled, though I had no intention of moving.

“You’ve been saying that for the past half hour, Areena. Are you sure you want to get up today, or are you planning to spend your Sunday in bed?”

“I’m up, Mumma,” I insisted, reluctantly pushing myself out of bed. In truth, I wanted nothing more than to stay under my warm blankets all day. But I knew that wasn't an option.

I quickly freshened up. Since it was Sunday, I decided to stay in, opting for a comfortable short kurta with a Patiala shalwar. As I brushed my hair and looked at myself in the mirror, Abid’s face flashed before my eyes.

It had been two days since my last encounter with Abid. Uncle was discharged from the hospital the next day. I remembered how Abid had cried like a child, the raw vulnerability in his tears tearing at my heart.

I couldn’t stop myself from comforting him, running my fingers through his soft hair. I loved his hair. When he hugged me, butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach.

But the moment he gave me that look—so full of anger and rage—those butterflies vanished. He could flip from one emotion to another in seconds. His anger was justified, reflecting my own guilt.

And then there was that almost kiss. I’d been thinking about it non-stop for the past two days. What would have happened if my phone hadn’t rung? Would Abid have really kissed me?

“Are you coming downstairs or not, Areena? Stop being so lazy!” Mumma shouted from downstairs. Why was she so restless today? It’s Sunday. Couldn’t I be a little lazy?

“Areenaaaa…!!” Mumma called out again.

“Cominggg…” I yelled back, hastily brushing my hair and running downstairs. If I didn’t hurry, Mumma would be furious.

Mumma and Papa were already at the breakfast table. I greeted them and took my seat, the delicious smell of pancakes making my mouth water.

I quickly served myself and started eating. I was lost in my own world of deliciousness when Papa spoke.

“Just get ready after breakfast. We’re going on a picnic with Zain and his family.”

My spoon slipped from my fingers, clattering onto my plate.

Picnic.
Zain.
His family.
Abid.

“I’m sorry… picnic? I mean, wow… but suddenly? I mean, it’s a good thing… when…” I stammered, my thoughts racing.

I didn’t complete my sentence because Zain Uncle’s voice came from behind.

“Yes, darling. A picnic is a wonderful thing. That’s why your father and I decided on it yesterday.”

I quickly turned to see Zain Uncle and Afiya standing there. My mother and father greeted them warmly, and I stood to greet them as well.

Afiya hugged me, and I hugged her back. Over the past few days, we have created a new bond. She was sweet and beautiful, inside and out.

I had talked to her last night, but she hadn’t mentioned anything about a picnic. Maybe she didn’t know either.

“Good morning, Areena,” Afiya said with a bright smile.

“Good morning, Afiya,” I replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. But my mind was already racing ahead, wondering what this picnic might bring.

“We’ve had such a hectic week, so I just want to end it with some cherished moments with my family,” Uncle said with a smile. I smiled back and nodded, feeling warmth in his words.

“Well, before that, have some breakfast. We’ve been waiting for you,” Papa added, and we all sat down.

My mother served Uncle and Afiya, who sat across from me. Papa occupied his usual seat at the head of the table, while Mumma sat beside me.

I picked up my spoon to resume eating when Uncle spoke again.

“Err... Areena, can you please go outside and check on Abid? What’s taking him so long?”

Abid is here.

My heartbeat quickened. “Yaa... sure...” I said, trying to sound casual.

I went outside to find him. He stood beside his car, wearing a tight black T-shirt that showed off his muscular chest and arms, paired with army print cargo pants.

Altogether, he looked...

Dashing. Handsome. Hot.

Get a grip, Areena. Stupid!

His arms were crossed over his chest, and he seemed deep in thought. I approached him quietly, my heels making a slight clicking sound.

He lifted his head, and our eyes locked. A memory of our first meeting flashed in my mind. I stood before him and greeted him.

“Ahh... Assalamualaikum...”

He kept staring at me, making the moment feel awkward.

“Ahh Hemm...” I cleared my throat to get his attention, and it worked.

“Oh... Ya... Walaikum Assalam...”

“Are you going to come inside, or do you have other plans of standing here like a scarecrow?” I laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. It was awkward, and I wanted to ease the tension.

He smirked. “It suits you better, Areena.”

Oh, he can’t take a joke. His ego couldn’t handle it.

“Whatever... Anyway, Uncle wants you to come inside,” I said, turning to leave, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned me between him and the car. I gasped. Why did he always have to pin me?

“What...?”

“Nothing. Just a reminder for you to stay away from me.”

“What... Me? Who is the one who stopped me and pinned me like this?”

“We’re going on a picnic, and I don’t want any distractions because of you. I want to spend time with my family. So stay. Away. From. Me.”

Ya Allah, his audacity! Anger surged inside me. What did he think of himself?

“The same goes for you too, Mr. Abdullah,” I hissed and pushed him away.

I quickly went inside and joined the others at the table. He followed me, and out of all the empty seats, he chose the one beside me.

Just a minute ago, he told me to stay away, and now look who was sitting next to me. He stared at me, and I rolled my eyes at him.

He greeted my parents, and then we all enjoyed our breakfast together, listening to Uncle’s and Papa’s teenage stories.

After breakfast, Afiya and I headed to my room to pack a few things for the picnic.

"Where's your brother, Appi?" Afiya asked.

"He's on a school trip to Manali," I replied, opening my closet to find a bag.

"Okay. Well, your room is beautiful, Appi. I love the colors, the curtains, this cozy bed, and the side balcony," she said, pointing at everything.

"Me too, dear. Well, I’m just going to freshen up before we leave, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, Appi."

I went to the bathroom, and almost immediately, my phone started ringing.

Crap! Why always at the wrong time?

"Afiya, can you please check my phone?" I shouted from inside.

"Yeah... It's from Ali."

Ali? What a wonderful timing.

"Please pick up and tell him I’m busy."

A few moments later, I heard Afiya shouting, "Oh my God... Oh my God..."

I quickly finished up and rushed out.

"What happened, Afiya?"

"He... he... It’s Ali... Ali Abraham."

Why was she stuttering like she saw a ghost?

"Yeah, his name is Ali... So?"

"He... he is... the rock star Ali, Ali Abraham!"

Oh, I forgot to mention that my friend is a rock star.

"Yes... Well, it seems someone is a big fan of him here." I tried to whistle, but it came out weakly. Her cheeks turned pink. Oh God!

"You have a crush on him," I teased. Afiya looked like a ripe tomato now.

"Arii... Afii... Come downstairs. We’re leaving!" Mumma shouted.

Before I could say anything, Afiya grabbed the bag and ran downstairs. I followed her, deciding not to press the matter further since she was clearly uncomfortable.

"Hey, since when did my mom start calling you 'Afii'? I mean, it's cute, but are you okay with that?" I asked as we walked outside.

"Yes, it’s cute. Last time I was here, she treated me like her daughter and asked me to call her by this cute nickname. I agreed because no one has ever given me a nickname. You’re lucky, Appi. You have a wonderful mother."

My heart sank hearing that. I couldn't imagine life without my mom, and here she was, never having felt a mother’s love.

"Well, a mother is a mother. It doesn't matter if she's mine or yours. She’s your mother too," I told her, and she smiled.

We reached the cars and started loading the bags into the trunk. Papa and Uncle arrived, and just as we were about to sit, Mumma called out.

"Arii, I forgot to take the fruit basket. It's on the dining table. Go and get it."

"Okay, Mumma."

I went inside, but there was no basket on the dining table. I checked the kitchen, but it wasn't there either.

Where on earth is that basket?

Finally, I spotted it on the drawing room table. I grabbed it and headed outside, but to my utter surprise, my dad’s car was gone.

Don’t say they forgot me!

I heard a car horn from the main gate. I walked over and saw only Abid’s car. I made my way to it.

"Are you going to sit or not? Dad and Uncle have already left."

"Where are Mumma and Afiya?" I asked.

"They left with Uncle," he replied.

I was shocked. "What? They left me?"

"Get inside the car already, Areena. We’re getting late."

"But how am I supposed to go with you?"

"You don’t want to come? Fine, I’m leaving," he said rudely.

My phone rang—it was Mom. She told me to come with Abid as they had already left.

Wow, what a pleasure. Now I had to tolerate Abid’s mood for the whole ride, which would be two to three hours.

Why did I even get out of bed today?

"Are you going to come or not?" he yelled, clearly annoyed.

I didn’t know why he was so mad at me. I opened the back door of the car, put the fruit basket in, and then sat down, closing the door behind me.

But Abid didn’t start the car. He was just staring at me through the rearview mirror.

I waited for a while, but when he didn’t move, I asked, "Are you going to drive or not? We’re already late."

"Sit in the passenger seat," he demanded.

"What? Why?"

"Because I’m not your damn driver, Miss Khan."

Oh God! This man and his tantrums.

"Urgh!" I groaned, moving to the passenger seat.

Its gonna be a long ride.