Strings - Capstone Amal Al Shamsi (1)

Faisal was suddenly re-animated for the rest of the journey home. “Who was that?”
“Does she know me?” “How do you know her?” “Will you at least mention me around her?”
Back at their rooms, Raed maintained that he knew a lot of girls and did not get the fuss,
he crossed his arms and refused to sit with the rest of them on the rug.
Salem offered his leather jacket to Hamza for the days he’d see her, he said, “Your
shoulders need the help, sorry brother.”
It was mostly her hair, vaguely blonde and cut above her collarbones, that was the topic
of conversation with his friends. They would sit in their shared apartment, in front of a rowdy
football match, and someone would say something lewd about it. It was light, how was it with a
girl like that? Even then, Hamza had been on his toes, careful. But he couldn’t help divulging. It
was nice, it was nice. They rarely left it there.
Hating capitalism was all the rage, he had no idea why they had both chosen business
and sat through talks to learn about money-making. She got mad when he saw what he had
drafted all over her notes, but he had liked being told off. It never went on for too long, as she
began to point out his spelling mistakes. Then she read it all out, loudly: “​Make letters touch
again, stop the segregation of letters in the English language. Viva la cursive​-- You sure you’re
not a poet, Hamza?”
He sat, arms crossed, fighting off embarrassment.
Soon they were ready to pack up, not done with their coursework but done with the
people that kept knocking into their knees in the little cafe. Hamza didn’t know where it came
from, he took hold of her hand for a moment to lead her. She had been holding both their drinks
and was in the process of handing him his cup. Lukewarm tea spilled across his fingers, Elena
screwed up her face in apology before he laughed.
“If you don’t want it, no need to punch it out from my hands,” she said and he laughed.
In between sips, she watched him grin and had asked him what he liked to do outside of
being there, studying, sitting, and getting her tea. He thought he was clever when he said, “I bet I
can name you to your favorite place in this hometown of yours.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll take you,” he said, taking a longer step, “Now.”
“On foot?” she said, incredulous.
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