Page 26 of Tarek

“A thank you would suffice.”

“Thank you and please don’t call me Bella. My name is Pen or Penny. My mom calls me Penelope.”

“Fine Penelope, now where were we?”

“After-school activities. You give off jock energy so football?”

“Wrong. Lacrosse. I had no choice, and I was also on the Scrabble team.” As he wiggles his eyebrows at me a single black curl drops at the side of his face.

“Scrabble? As in the word game?”

“Yup. I am dyslexic and my teacher taught me Scrabble to help me with my comprehension and spelling. I am actually really good at it.”

Dumfounded, I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, then it all made sense. “That’s why your food is so visual and beautiful.”

His cheeks stains. “My mind is great at visually illustrating things.”

“Like the Foie Gras, and the way it was presented. In thin sliced pieces in the shape of a flower. Exquisite.”

Tarek eyes light up. “I have a unique ability to figure out how to build and engineer things. My imagination is vivid.”

I lean in. “That’s amazing.”

“And no, I don’t see words backwards. I may miss words, spell it wrong…you know.”

I don’t know why but being in Tarek’s company makes me feel safe and happy.

“The person who should be taking the Mensa test is you not me.”

He bites his lip at the side. “Maybe one day I will.”

ChapterThree

Miranda

The thought of carrying a new life is terrifying, and exhilarating. I’m clueless. I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish anything. All I know is that this baby that I am carrying is going to get the best of me.

I rub the small pudge of my stomach. Three months pregnant and the nausea is finally subsiding. I hope it’s a girl, I never thought of having a baby till now and I want her to be a beautiful girl.

The door to my bedroom opens and my mom comes in. I have the best mom thankfully; I chose not to tell her who the father is. She did fret, and the disappointment is evident in her eyes. I think disappointment has taken permanent residence on her face.

My mom is tall, dark, and beautiful. Her cheek bones are high, her skin is a deep bronze, silky smooth. Part of me wishes that she would shout at me. I wish she would use her Caribbean accent on me and scream. But not my mom, no she is kind and patient with me.

“I have a plan,” she says as she sits on my bed. She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it.

“Mom?”

“I’m sending you by Aunty Baby in Charleswood.”

“Ma, that’s like hours away I can’t?—”

My mother raises her hand to stop me. “You are going to Charleswood. You can’t keep moping around here, praying for that boy to come to his senses.”

I bow my head not bothering to deny who my child’s father was.

“You will leave next Saturday. I wanted you to leave earlier but your Aunty is in Trinidad till next Friday,” she huffs.

My heart drops when I think of next Saturday, Dereck and Ilyana are getting married.

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