13 Zara

13

Zara

Hayden didn’t call me that night. I had to make up an excuse of food poisoning to my brothers for not meeting them at the dinner and ate alone in my room, clutching the phone and waiting for his call.

“Why are you sighing like that?” Safiya asked from the lounge chair, flipping through a magazine as I sat on the settee of the low table on the balcony of my room. Water in the pool rustled with wind as the sun disappeared down the sand dunes, painting the sky orange and blue.

“Sighing like what?” I asked, looking down at my sketchbook. My cheeks burnt noticing the soft curves and hard definitions of two bodies. Since when did I sketch nudes? Especially of me and Hayden.

Safiya closed her magazine and looked at me. I squirmed under her heavy gaze. She had scolded me when I met her after her night of being a princess in my place and forced me to shower because, according to her, I reeked of men. I didn’t bother to correct her that it was just one man. Hayden.

“Don’t tell me you