I stare into the gaze of the large,
dark brown eyes before me. My heart is pounding; why is this happening to me?
Is this what they call love at first sight?
My eyes are still fixed. I scan my reflection from head to toe.
Thick mahogany brown hair falls to just above my lower back complementing my fair skin - I think those soft curls suit me too…
He didn’t look back. He is related to either the bride or groom. He should, or why else would he walk just outside the ballroom area. I shrug at the thought that he might not remember me by now. But how can I forget? His graceful, confident walk is still imprinted in my head. I vaguely remember his face. I didn’t have the chance to actually look, but I can’t forget his broad, well-built body and sublime movement across the hall.
Ugh! Why am I thinking this much?
I’m back to the now and here leaving the new feelings and thoughts in a secret drawer somewhere in my brain. Or is it my heart? Boys! I roll my eyes humoring myself while heading back to the ballroom.
Lojain seems to be preoccupied with the wedding. Lets keep Mr. Him to myself for now. She'll make a great big deal out of it.
The wedding is extravagant; the centerpiece on each table alone costs a fortune. The mix of white tulips and white roses in the elongated crystal vases, camel brown table dressing and ivory cutlery with simple golden engravings might be the main reason behind the majestic look. The bride is Lojain’s high school friend and as she states, she’s so lucky to marry into this very well off family.
“Who’s she? The pretty one in golden dress coming towards us” I know her, she looks familiar but my brain fails to recall her name.
“Haifa, the groom’s only sister…”
I ignore the rest of Lojain’s conversation. I dig deep down my brain.
I don’t know her, but she looks exactly like… him!
“Its wonderful to see you Lojain, gorgeous as ever!” the huskiness in her sweet voice is very familiar… If you can’t walk in them, don’t wear them!
My face falls at the memory. I was never approached in this rude way. Ever.
I think I hate him. Yes, I do.
“Nouf, this is Haifa” Lojain’s voice pulls me back, “Haifa this is Nouf”.
“Finally, I met you! THE Nouf” - Her face-breaking smile surprises me.
“THE Nouf?” I ask bemused.
“Yes," she giggles as if remembering something, "Maryam never stops talking about the stuff you guys did in high school and Lojain’s and others statuses are always filled with Nouf related stuff haha, we have lots of mutual friends… Before I forget, I’m planning a surprise birthday party at my place for Maryam, next weekend. You have to be there!”
Her light, humble personality contradicts with her I-own-a-freakin-bank-and-I-don’t-care look. Our conversation lasted for a while and we exchanged blackberry pins before she is forced to continue her greeting spree across the wedding hall.
I might see him again. The butterflies in my stomach start flickering their wings creating a weird mix anxiety and excitement through my body.
My eyes are still fixed. I scan my reflection from head to toe.
Thick mahogany brown hair falls to just above my lower back complementing my fair skin - I think those soft curls suit me too…
He didn’t look back. He is related to either the bride or groom. He should, or why else would he walk just outside the ballroom area. I shrug at the thought that he might not remember me by now. But how can I forget? His graceful, confident walk is still imprinted in my head. I vaguely remember his face. I didn’t have the chance to actually look, but I can’t forget his broad, well-built body and sublime movement across the hall.
Ugh! Why am I thinking this much?
I’m back to the now and here leaving the new feelings and thoughts in a secret drawer somewhere in my brain. Or is it my heart? Boys! I roll my eyes humoring myself while heading back to the ballroom.
Lojain seems to be preoccupied with the wedding. Lets keep Mr. Him to myself for now. She'll make a great big deal out of it.
The wedding is extravagant; the centerpiece on each table alone costs a fortune. The mix of white tulips and white roses in the elongated crystal vases, camel brown table dressing and ivory cutlery with simple golden engravings might be the main reason behind the majestic look. The bride is Lojain’s high school friend and as she states, she’s so lucky to marry into this very well off family.
“Who’s she? The pretty one in golden dress coming towards us” I know her, she looks familiar but my brain fails to recall her name.
“Haifa, the groom’s only sister…”
I ignore the rest of Lojain’s conversation. I dig deep down my brain.
I don’t know her, but she looks exactly like… him!
“Its wonderful to see you Lojain, gorgeous as ever!” the huskiness in her sweet voice is very familiar… If you can’t walk in them, don’t wear them!
My face falls at the memory. I was never approached in this rude way. Ever.
I think I hate him. Yes, I do.
“Nouf, this is Haifa” Lojain’s voice pulls me back, “Haifa this is Nouf”.
“Finally, I met you! THE Nouf” - Her face-breaking smile surprises me.
“THE Nouf?” I ask bemused.
“Yes," she giggles as if remembering something, "Maryam never stops talking about the stuff you guys did in high school and Lojain’s and others statuses are always filled with Nouf related stuff haha, we have lots of mutual friends… Before I forget, I’m planning a surprise birthday party at my place for Maryam, next weekend. You have to be there!”
Her light, humble personality contradicts with her I-own-a-freakin-bank-and-I-don’t-care look. Our conversation lasted for a while and we exchanged blackberry pins before she is forced to continue her greeting spree across the wedding hall.
I might see him again. The butterflies in my stomach start flickering their wings creating a weird mix anxiety and excitement through my body.
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