Streaks
#
By the following week, Ridhwan had become an almost ordinary part of my phone.
Almost.
Not because we spoke every day. We didn't.
But somewhere between university complaints, random questions and the occasional sarcastic remark, our conversations had developed a rhythm of their own.
Sometimes he would send a message in the middle of the afternoon. How was your lecture?
Sometimes it was something completely unnecessary.
“Do you people actually understand what your lecturer is teaching?”
And sometimes, without warning: “Have you eaten?”
That question annoyed me for reasons I couldn't explain. It sounded too much like something Mama would ask.
So I always answered sarcastically.
“No. I'm surviving on air.”
His response would usually be: “Very funny. Go and eat.”
I would roll my eyes at the screen. Yet I would still go and eat.
---
Our conversations were never particularly romantic. If anything, they were strangely ordinary.
He told me about his hospital postings.I complained about lecturers. He teased me about how frequently I complained.
I reminded him that he had once complained about medical school for almost an hour.
He denied it. I reminded him of the exact words he had used.
He changed the subject.It became a game.
Deep within me I started to realize that beneath his reserved exterior was someone who enjoyed teasing people, although he was selective about whom he allowed close enough to see that side of him.
There were also things about him that didn't quite add up.
For example, he could disappear from a conversation for hours without explanation.
If I asked where he had gone, he would simply say: “Busy.” That was it. No elaboration No story..
At first, I didn't care. Eventually, I became curious. But I never asked. Not yet.
---
One Friday evening, I was sitting outside the hostel with Hauwa when my phone vibrated.
A Snapchat notification. my brows furrowed. I hadn't used Snapchat properly in ages.
Hauwa glanced at me.
“Who?”
“Snap.”
“Who sent it?”
“I don't know.”
A streak. From a username I didn't immediately recognize.
I stared at the screen.Then opened the profile.
The Bitmoji was a boy.
The name wasn't familiar. I shrugged and closed it.
“Who was that?” Hauwa asked.
“Someone on Snapchat.”
“Someone you know?”
“I don't think so.”
“Then why are you streaking?”
“I don't know.”
She laughed.
“You're weird.”
“You're the weird one.”
“Thank you.”
I rolled my eyes.
Neither of us thought about it again.
---
The following morning, the same account sent another snap. Then another. And another.
Apparently, we had been exchanging streaks for some time. I just hadn't paid much attention.
The username itself wasn't particularly memorable. The person behind it was even less so. At least, initially.
I responded with a random picture. No caption.
A few minutes later, another snap arrived.
Then a message: “You don't talk?”
My eyes were fixed on thr sceeen and my thbs started typing: “You don't know me.”
The reply came quickly.
“Exactly. That's why I'm saying it.”
There was something oddly confident about the stranger.
“And you talk too much?” “Depends on who I'm talking to.” he replied
“Then why are you talking to me?” ny curiosity got the better of me, of course i had to know who he is. There was a pause.
Then: “I don't know.”
That answer was almost annoyingly honest.
I closed the appc, it was time for my lectures.
I wasn't interested in talking to some random Snapchat stranger.
At least, that was what I told myself.
---
That evening, Ridhwan called.
“Hello?”
“Assalamu alaikum.”
“Wa alaikumussalam.”
“You sound busy.”
“I was reading.”
“What?”
“Nothing interesting.”
“Then why were you reading it?”
“Because I have to.”
He laughed.
“How was your day?”
“Tiring.”
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“You complain a lot.”
“I don't.”
“You do.”
“I don't.”
“You've complained to me about school every time we've spoken.”
“Because school is stressful.”
“So is mine.”
“You're a medical student.”
“And?”
“You're supposed to be strong.”
He laughed.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It does to me.”
There was a short silence.
Then he asked,
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I waited.
“Why?”
“I might need your help.”
“With what?”
“Something.”
“What something?”
“I'll tell you tomorrow.”
I frowned.
“Ya Ridhwan.”
“Hm?”
“You're very mysterious.”
He laughed quietly.
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe.”
The call ended not long afterward.
I sat there staring at my phone.
Something.
What exactly did he need my help with?
And why did he sound as though he already knew I would agree?
---
The next afternoon, I received a message.
Are you free? it was a message from Ya Rishwan I replied with a Yes.
“Come to the faculty area.”I stared at the screen.
Why?
A few seconds later: “Just come.” I dropped the phone and changed my clothes and left the hostel.
The afternoon heat was unforgiving, and by the time I reached the faculty area, I was already regretting agreeing to whatever this was.
Then I saw him.
He was standing beside a dark Lexus RX 350, one hand resting against the roof while he spoke to someone on the phone.
He wore a simple navy-blue kaftan, sleeves folded slightly at the wrists. Nothing extravagant. Nothing attention-seeking.
Yet he had the sort of appearance that made people look twice without meaning to.
When he noticed me, he ended the call.
“You came.”. “You said I should.”
He smiled, that charming smile that made the sides of his eyes wrinkle
“I wasn't sure you would.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I hoped you would.”
I stared at him.
That was an unexpectedly direct answer. He gestured toward the car.
“I need to drop something at the hospital.”
I looked at him.
“And?”
“And I need you to come with me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“I don't like going alone.”
“That's your reason?”
“Yes.”
“You could have asked one of your friends.”
“I could have.”
“Then why me?”
He looked at me for a second. Then opened the passenger door.
“Are you coming or not?” I stood there looking at him, looking at his beautiful brown eyes
“You still haven't answered.”His response bringing me back to reality
“Get in, Se’ad.”
I hesitated.
Then got into the car.
---
The drive was quiet at first. Not uncomfortable, Just unfamiliar. I looked out of the window.
He drove carefully, one hand occasionally adjusting the gear while the other rested on the steering wheel.
“You're quiet,” he said.
“So are you.”
“I asked first.”
“You're the one who brought me here.”
He smiled.
“Fair.” he wasn’t smiling, his face was totally calm and normal
A few minutes passed.
Then he asked,
“Do you still want to be a pharmacologist?”
I turned toward him.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I thought about it.
“I don't know.”
He glanced at me.
“You don't know?”
“I know. I just don't know how to explain it.”
“Try.”
I smiled.
“I like drugs.”
He laughed.
“That sounded terrible.”
“I mean pharmacology.”
“I know.”
I laughed.
Then became quiet.
“I want to be good at something,” I said eventually. “Something that belongs to me.”
He nodded.
“That's good.”
“You don't think it's unrealistic?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you're stubborn.”
I looked at him.
“That's not a compliment.”
“It is.”
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“You'll do well.”
The confidence in his voice caught me off guard.
I looked at him.
“You sound very sure.”
“I am.”
“How?”
He shrugged.
“I've watched you.”
I frowned.
“What?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the road.
“Nothing.”
I stared at him.
There it was again.
That strange habit.
He would say something that made me curious, then retreat behind that quiet expression before I could ask what he meant. I decided not to push.
But I remembered it.
---
When we reached the hospital, he got out. “Wait here.”
“Okay.” I watched him walk inside. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. I checked my phone.Nothing.
I was beginning to wonder whether I had been abandoned. Then my phone vibrated.A Snapchat notification.
The same mysterious account from yesterday.
“You're boring” my eyee kept staring ar it, why all of a sudden? Then I typed: “Excuse me?”
not even 30 secs reached the ln he sent a message “You disappeared.”
“I have a life.”
Clearly not.
I laughed.
Who are you?
The reply came almost immediately. Someone you don't know. I stared at the screen.That answer sounded familiar. Too familiar. I looked toward the hospital entrance. Ridhwan still hadn't returned. Another message arrived.
Why are you smiling? I stopped.My smile disappeared almost instantly I looked around.
There was nobody near the car.
How do you know I'm smiling? No response.
My attention was fixed at the screen.
For the first time, the conversation didn't feel quite as random as it had the day before.
Across the road, a car passed slowly. Then another. Nothing unusual. Still, a strange feeling settled over me. A feeling I couldn't quite name.
Then the hospital doors opened.
Ya Ridhwan walked out.
He opened the driver's door.
“Sorry.”
I locked my phone.
“It's fine.”
He glanced at me.
“You're quiet.”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
I looked out the window.
“Drive.”
He laughed.
And as the Lexus pulled away from the hospital, I kept my phone in my lap. The Snapchat message remained unanswered.
For some reason, I didn't want Ya Ridhwan to see it. I wasn't sure why.
Perhaps because it was easier when some things remained mine. Some conversations.
Some mysteries.
At least until I understood them.