TEN YEARS AGO

I looked in the mirror at myself. Like really looked.

My hair is a little bit too frizzy. My nose is a little bit too big for my face. Maybe I could get rid of some moustache hairs. But I was... nice. I have a friendly face, that's good enough right?

Whatever, I'll just get rich instead and buy a husband.

I went downstairs to find my mom sitting in the living room reading her Quran. I stopped at the last step to admire her instead.

She had lost some weight these last few years. Her cheeks were slightly drooping, her eye bags were a bit more prevalent than usual, but she was still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I wish she would just believe that herself too.

"Oh Maheen," she broke me out of my thoughts. "Could you run to the grocery store? I forgot to get coconuts and I want to make your favourite coconut curry noodles," she said excitedly.

"I'll get all the coconuts in the world for those noodles Rabia" I grin and grab my coat. The Aldi was just down the road and I didn't drive yet at 16 so walking it was. Mom handed me a five pound note with a tsk. She hated when I called her by her name and I loved how she pretended to be annoyed.

I popped in my headphones and took the brisk walk to the grocery store. I had enough for a coconut and maybe a brownie mix too.

I had developed a weird interest in baking and it fascinated my mother. I couldn't boil noodles to save my life but I seemed to have a knack for whipping up desserts with ease.

Baking is a science, something I explained to her many times. And science I got.

I was debating between which coconut to pick when I heard someone say my name. I turned around to see Hasan standing there with a little girl. A little girl who was looking at me holding two coconuts like boobs.

God, take me now.

I dropped them quickly but they rolled and Hasan and I both went to pick them up. And of course bumped our heads in the process.

"I got one," the little girl giggled, holding up the one she managed to find. I quickly scooped up the other and set them both back down in the bin.

"Um hi, sorry about that I was trying to find the best one you know how it is haha, oh who's this by the way," I tried to divert the attention onto something other than me.

"This is my cousin's daughter, Hina" he introduced the girl who couldn't be more than five or six.

"Hi, I'm Maheen," I shake her tiny hand. She looks up questioningly at her uncle. "We are in the same school," I offer as an explanation.

"Hi," the little girl squeaked.

It had been one week since the carnival, one week since Hasan and I frolicked about, me laughing and him putting up with my every whim silently.

"Brownies?" he was looking at the box mix I had placed earlier on top of the coconut bin while I weighed out the perfect coconut by holding them at chest level. Yeah, remember that mortifying moment from ten seconds ago?

"Brownie cheesecakes actually. Trying something new tomorrow but I wanted to take a shortcut, our kitchen's already too small and I don't have a stand mixer so you know it gets messy."

I was rambling.

But was he smiling?

No, I probably imagined it.

"I'm going to get going now. Mum's waiting," I mangle out a laugh to no one in particular and grabbed the first coconut I could. His niece chirped goodbye and I gave her a quick wave as I scurried away.

Could I be more embarrassing?

---

I closed my locker only to see my brother's face on the other side.

"Geez bhai, wear a bell around your neck. Your ugly face is going to scar someone for life one day."

"Hello to you too. I wanted to ask you something. Hasan was talking about-"

"Oh he talks?" I smirk to myself.

"Shut up. His niece wants to sell brownies at her primary school bake sale. The ones you made on the weekend. Would you help her? I told him I'd ask you."

"Um sure. But I'm not a pro, he knows that right? I cannot be held for any bake sale disappointments."

"I will let him know you agreed. You can set up the parameters of your talents with him as you wish sister. Thanks, I owed him," he grinned.

"You're welcome brother," I rolled my eyes, heading off to my next class.

On Thursday afternoon, two days later from when he asked me, Rayyan dropped me off at the address Hasan gave him. This was incredibly weird, showing up to some random house with a bag full of ingredients for brownies. But when I ring the doorbell, Hasan's niece I met at the grocery store opened the door.

"Salam Hina," I smile down at her and he pulls me inside eagerly and into the kitchen. I meet her mom and Hasan is there, typing away at a laptop with some headphones on. He nods at me in acknowledgement and then continues to do whatever he was doing.

Her mom was super nice, already having everything I would need laid out on the countertops. She even ordered pizza and chicken nuggets so there would be lunch for us. She worked from home so she excused herself to get back to her meetings but pointed out her office door in case I needed anything.

I had Hina sit on a stool and help me with the mixing. Unfortunately for her, I was kind of a control freak in the kitchen so my way of getting her involved would be her mixing dry flour for no reason.

At least there was SpongeBob playing on Hina's iPad or I'd be going crazy with the silence and the sound of Hasan's click clack on his keyboard.

"Maheen didi, can we put marshmallows on them?" Hina leans over the counter to see me pour the batter into the pan.

"Oh um, yeah we can," I checked my bag of ingredients in case I somehow miraculously find some but I don't like marshmallows so not sure where they'd appear from. "I don't have any honey. Maybe I can make a trip down-"

"We have some!" she jumps off her stool and goes to stand facing the cabinets above us. "Papa put some in there. I see him eating them at night sometimes and he tells me it's a secret from Mummy," she points to a cupboard.

I stifle my laughter as I watch her serious face. I don't want to take them and start some husband-wife drama. Who knows if they're even in there. I open the cupboard and stretch up, spotting the corner of a packet at the back of the top shelf.

I tell Hina to wait here and walk over to her mom's office door but I can hear her talking to someone. I'm not about to bother her in a meeting over some marshmallows. I walk back to the kitchen but see Hina talking to Hasan.

"I'll get them," he states, but I don't know if he's talking to me or Hina. Either way, he stands up and walks over to beside me. It takes him one easy reach to be able to grab the packet and he brings it down, facing me.

I realize we are standing very close, nothing more than a soft marshmallow packet between us.

"Thanks," I smile, taking the packet and stepping back. "Are you sure your cousin is okay with me using his secret stash?"

"It's not really a secret," Hasan's mouth quirks up on one side. He goes back to his seat on the other side of the counter but doesn't resume his work. "His wife figured it out when he went up a shirt size."

"Oh," I giggle. Ew Maheen, laugh less weirdly.

I have Hina squish the marshmallows into the batter wherever she wants.

"Are you not going to continue attacking your keyboard with whatever you were doing?" I lean on the counters, crossing my arms across my chest.

He definitely smiles that time.

"I was just working on an essay," he shuts his laptop screen, now fully focused on his niece.

"Oh for what class? Maybe you can give it to me for inspiration for when I get to A levels," I grin teasingly but he gives me a deadpan look.

"It's for my university application," he clarifies.

"What are you applying for?"

"You're just full of questions aren't you?"

"Why? Are you applying to something you need to be ashamed about?" I raised an eyebrow.

He crossed his arms to mirror mine and leaned back in his chair. "International Relations."

"Fancy," I joked, taking over from Hina now that she was done.

"So do you only make brownies or...?"

"Now look who's full of questions," I put the pan into the oven. I clean up the mess we made while I answer him. "I've just started trying out some stuff. I'm really only good with brownies so far," I shrug. "Speaking of, how creeped out should I be that you asked my brother for this help based on one thing I was holding at the grocery store?"

He didn't even blink in shame at being caught. "I'm observant."

"No shit Sherlock," I snort but then freeze, looking over at Hina. Thankfully she was already too engrossed in her iPad to hear my dirty sailor mouth. "So where are you applying?"

"A few places."

"Wow, never heard of that one," I roll my eyes at his useless answer. "I still have like two years but this stuff already stresses me out. When do you have to submit it by?"

"Technically next year," he mumbles while reading the back of the cocoa packet.

"What do you mean?" I gently remove the packet from his hand and close it back up to put away.

"I'm trying for Oxford. If I get in, I get in, if not I'll try elsewhere."

"Oh mister smarty-pants," I put a hand to my chest. "How very honored I am to be in the presence of your genius."

He looks like he's about to retort when the door down the hall opens. I straighten up, checking on the brownies.

"Smells amazing," Hasan's sister-in-law notes as she enters the kitchen. "Thank you again so much Maheen, you are such an angel," she gives me a tight hug.

"It really was no problem at all," I smile sheepishly.

"Hasan, drop her home will you? It's starting to pour outside," she notes, leaning around me to look outside.

"Oh it's no worry, I can call my brother," I shake my head but she doesn't let me continue.

"Don't be silly, he's literally around the corner from you."

I couldn't get out of her insistence and so here we are, driving back home in what is a growing thunderstorm. I was surprised when I got into Hasan's sedan that there was soft music playing- old 80s and 90s Bollywood songs that my mom loves so much.

"It's my mom's Spotify," he obviously lies but I keep my mouth shut because I'd rather he let it play than we sit in silence.

When he pulls into my driveway, the rain is coming down in what feels like buckets.

"I'll walk you," Hasan says and before I can protest, he pulls an umbrella out of the back seat.

He gets out of the car and walks around to my side, opens the door for me, and holds the umbrella out for me. We walk the short distance from the car to my front porch. He's only half under the umbrella, getting soaked on his right side.

When I am safely under the awning, I turn to thank him and my heart does a weird little skip.

He's standing there holding the umbrella above him, big raindrops falling around. His face is blank but his eyes are soft, melted dark chocolate like the brownies I just spent mixing all afternoon.

"Thanks Hasan, bye."

"Allah hafiz," he says quietly and heads back to the car. I turn around quickly, unlocking the front door. Violins play in my head and I smiled to myself.

I think someone has a crush... I'm talking about Hasan obviously because I mean, let's be serious. I'm a catch.