“This is called injera,” Ali told me about two months after we met. “You use it to scoop up the spicy stew.”
We were at a trendy place in Adams Morgan, where Ali wanted to introduce me to Ethiopian food, which I’d never had. Trying out new cuisines, often at hole-in-the-wall places, was becoming our thing.
Ali ordered for us and explained the different dishes to me. He preferred the lamb, but I ended up reaching for the vegetarian options like lentils, chickpeas, and cabbage.
I followed the movement of his hands, which were big and tanned from all his outdoor activities. I loved watching him. From the twinkle in his eye when he smiled at me, to the purposeful, long strides when he walked. Honestly, I liked everything about him. I was in deep.
I eagerly embraced every part of our courtship. It was an old-fashioned word, but it applied to us. I’d never really dated. My Muslim parents strictly forbade it.
Lulu and I were both required to live at home while going to college so there was no real opportunity to go wild (although Lulu still managed to). Mama and Baba said there were plenty of good schools within driving distance, which was true. College was for studying and not an excuse to party.Now, if you get into Harvard,Baba had said,we’ll talk,but Mama frowned when she heard that.
I mostly hung out with kids in the Arabic Club. Both Arab Americans like myself and FOBs, students who were fresh off the boat. The foreign students mostly came to get an education and planned to return home once they graduated.
If you seriously dated one of the Arabic Club guys, or any other student on campus, word got out, and you’d get a bad reputation. Then no one would marry you. That’s why some parents, though not mine, thought it was better for their children to get married straight out of high school, after which the safely married couple could go to college and party together.
Ali and I never ran out of things to talk about. But, despite our far-ranging conversations over delicious meals, something about him remained unknowable. I chalked it up to him being a naturally reserved person. Besides, it was still early days in our relationship. We had plenty of time to really get to know each other. I couldn’t wait to pull back some of those layers.
“Do you want to try Ethiopian coffee with dessert?” he asked. “It’s a little strong.”
“Sure.”
He studied me, an expression of bemusement on his face.
“What?” I was paranoid something was stuck in my teeth. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you always this easygoing?”
I shrugged. “What is there to fight about?” I put up my hands. “Oh no, please don’t make me eat delicious new dishes!”
He laughed in that quiet way of his. “I’m glad you were willing to try Ethiopian. This is one of my favorite places.”
“I generally do go with the flow.” I sipped my diet soda and shot him a mock-stern look. “As long as you don’t cross me.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been warned.”
“Lulu is the type A in the family,” I told him. “She’s one of those annoying students who always has her school projects ready several days before they’re due.”
“Thatisannoying. What about you?”
“I always started working on my reports at the last minute. Sometimes, I’d be up all night finishing them. But I always got them in on time.” I took another bite. “This lentil stew really is tasty.”
“Some people are rigid about where to go and what to eat.” He watched me scoop up the deep-red mixture. “It’s a pleasure to be with someone who likes trying new things.”
“I do.” I flirted with a smile. “I especially like trying them with you.”
His eyes sparked. We had major chemistry. I couldn’t wait for him to kiss me again. I’d been slathering on the lip balm so that my mouth would be extra soft and kissable for any upcoming make-out session.
His expression became more serious. “I want to be completely honest with you,” he said. “You deserve that.”
It never occurred to me that he might be dumping me. Even though he hadn’t tried to kiss me again, I felt the tug of something real and true between us.
He took a deep breath. “You know I went to JMU.” When I nodded, he continued. “And obviously I dated some girls there.”
His admission wasn’t exactly a news flash. Of course, all the boys went out and dated, except for the truly devout ones. In our community, it was the girls, devout or not, who were supposed to be as pure and uncomplicated as fairy-tale princesses.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not a virgin?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. There was an undercurrent between us now that I had never detected before. It made me uneasy.
He didn’t smile. “I dated a girl there.”
