Karma's a Bitch* #9

Shamma’s P.O.V

He smirked and leaned closer to me, so close that I could feel his breath on my skin, “hmm, no way in hell,” he whispered before he turned around, walked into his apartment and shut the door leaving me standing there flushed and frustrated like hell.

I let out a frustrated scream and shouted, “Grow up, will ya?!” before I stormed down the hall, my thoughts racing a thousand miles per minute. Catching the elevator just in time, I closed my eyes and leaned on the back wall, trying to breathe.

The door clicked open and I stepped out into the lobby, still a bit irritated about what had happened. I walked through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk out front. I leaned back against the wall as I looked up at the night sky watching the billions of tiny stars twinkling.

I sighed as I called Meera once again, muttering as I dialed the numbers, “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Then, I froze, hearing the faint sound of a familiar ringtone jingling away from someplace nearby. “Weird..” I muttered as a slightly puzzled expression appeared on my face.

I quickly looked around, searching the crowd for Meera who was nowhere to be seen. After a while of searching, I finally spotted her and my face exploded with happiness. I ran towards her and practically squealed, “Meeeeroooh!” earning some surprised glances our way. “Surprised?” Meera asked as her face broke into a wide grin.

I threw my arms around her tightly and yelled excitedly, “Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?!”

"Shammoh- can't breathe- too.. tight,you're suffocating me," she choked out.

“Oh! shit.. sorry,” I muttered and let go of her, holding in a giggle. “Dude! I've got SO much to tell you! You’re not gona believe what happened, juicy stuff!” I said eagerly.

“Oh my gosh tell me!” Meera shrieked excitedly as she gave me all her attention preparing herself for some extremely juicy gossip.

“Ta3aly ta3aly let’s sit,” I said as I literally dragged her to sit at one of the café tables in the lobby. “T5aylay-”

Meera let out a low whistle, “now that’s what I call eye candy,” she interrupted me checking out a bunch of hot guys. “I’m gona go upstairs to freshen up and everything ba3dain you can tell me all this juicy stuff of yours,” she quickly said as she got up heading towards the elevator.

I shot her a quick look, “9dg ench mtfayja!” I shouted as I hit my head against the table. I plugged the iPod's earphones into my ears and pulled out a book to read from my bag.

“What are you reading?” I jumped about a mile into the air when I heard the sweet velvet voice from about a foot in front of me. I lowered my book and saw the rude jerk, the one who bumped into me at the airport, sitting directly in front of me. The back of his chair was facing me and he was sitting with his legs on either side, his face merely inches from mine.

But I noticed all of this after. The only thing I could look at was his face.

His blue-greyish eyes were sparkling brightly with curiosity. His messy hair had a beautiful shade of dirty blonde that I’d never seen before. His nose was perfectly straight and sharp. His cheekbones were high and his mouth was pulled into a deliciously crooked smile, white teeth shining through.

“R-Romeo and Juliet,” I answered breathlessly. Get a grip, I thought to myself. So he’s hot, who cares? He looks like a troublemaker, a bad boy. Just like Khalifa. Not my type. Not at all.

“You like those kinds of books?” he asked, shock clear in his face. His eyebrows raised, his sparkling eyes widening slightly in surprise. He was still so close, his sweet breath hitting my face. I leaned back a bit, blinking.

“Yes,” I answered, my tone making me seem a little smug, “some of us actually like these kinds of books.”

“These violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die like fire and powder which as they kiss consume,” he quoted flawlessly. My jaw literally dropped open as I stared at this boy in confusion. He smirked at me and I wanted to smack that sexy smirk right off his face.
This didn’t make sense, I thought to myself. Boys like him don't like school books, or romances. They're just womanizers, players, trouble makers, dancing through life without doing anything decent.

“You know it?” I asked. My tone was rudely surprised, but he just chuckled.

“It’s a classic,” he answered with a shrug. As he continued speaking, his voice grew more powerful, more passionate and so much more beautiful. There weren’t words for the way he spoke. “Plus, just because you think I'm a rude jock which is what everyone thinks, hot, arrogant, sexy you know, doesn’t mean I’m a major flirt or idiot. And I’m just as surprised to see that you like the classics, I thought beautiful, smug girls only liked shopping and boys?”

It took me a minute to answer him. At first, I was just really sad that he had stopped talking since I wanted to hear more of his enchanting voice. But then I realized he had insulted me. And wait, did he call me beautiful? Does he really think I'm beautiful? It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself.

“Just because you think I’m beautiful and smug doesn’t mean I’m a slutty moron,” I snapped back, “I’m actually quite intelligent and I love the classics.”

“Well I guess we both have a lot to learn about each other,” he said, flashing me another one of those breathtaking crooked grins. He held his hand out and I took it. The electricity that zipped through my hand froze me for a moment, but I didn’t want to let go of his hand. It was a good feeling. “I’m Saif,” he said just before he got up and turned around to leave.

“huh Saif? what the hell, he's local?!” I mumbled under my breath.