...

Rani Hussain glanced at her daughter and her face contorted to that one of distaste.

"You look tanned."

Farrah sighed. Here we go.

"Didn't I ask you to get highlights in your hair?"

"Yes, mom. I forgot."

Rani clicked her tongue. "Your head looks like the top of a faded broom. Remind me to make an appointment for you with my parlour lady."

Farrah nodded but rolled her eyes once she looked the other way.

She glanced outside and prayed for patience. In an attempt to distract herself, Farrah watched the droplets of rain water roll down the window glass. It had rained earlier today and the sky was still grumbling.

Farrah initially had no intention of attending the Rahman family's annual dinner party. Even though the grand seven course garden dinner, hosted in one of the guest houses owned by the family, was often labelled a 'must attend event' by her peers, Farrah no longer felt any interest towards attending it.

She had the entire evening planned out. She would spend majority of her time editing the video and FaceTiming Malika, then she would spend a good solid thirty minutes reciting the Quran and listening to lectures, and then she planned to organize her closet and go to bed early.

Farrah was honestly excited for her evening. It wasn't everyday she got the house to herself and - as mean as she felt to admit it - free of Rani's reign. But her mother informed her they were going to the party tonight and she wanted to see her daughter's face at the door by seven.

"This is your time to go out, socialize and expose yourself to potential suitors!" Rani argued.

Farrah wanted to bang her head against the wall but her mother made her dress up and get in the car, giving her little choice in the matter.

She saw the Rahman's residence loom in the distance. Before the vehicle even properly came to a halt, Farrah opened the door of the car and placed one foot out. The close proximity with her mother was suffocating her and she did not know how long she could tolerate her criticisms without actually blowing up.

Farrah excused herself from Rani the moment they entered the venue and rushed off to find her friends. She searched the sea of faces and found herself smiling at several ex-classmates.

"Farrah, dear!" a voice called.

She turned to look. The woman embraced her before she could see her face, a waft of expensive perfume hitting her nostrils.

The aunty released her hold on Farrah and faced her. The woman gripped her shoulders tightly. "You look so grown up." She beamed. Farrah smiled, feeling bashful at being addressed as an adult by someone she had known since childhood.

"But why have you gotten so dark, dear," she said with concerned eyes.

"I just returned from Indonesia last week."

She clicked her tongue. "I have a very good turmeric recipe that will get rid of it."

Farrah's smile faltered. She didn't have any problem with her tanned skin, but like her mother - Pari Aunty clearly did.

"Come with me." She clutched Farrah's hand and pulled her forward before she could complain. She dragged her all the way to the heart of a crowd and they halted in front of a few well-dressed woman, sitting around and chattering. They all stopped and turned their hawk-like gaze on her.

"Is that Hussain Bhai's daughter?"

"She is such a big girl now!"

"But how did she get so dark?"

"I have a mind-blowing home remedy for tans, dear!"

"But look how much weight she has lost," Pari Aunty said encouragingly, throwing her an affectionate glance.

"Hm." Another aunty scrutinized. "But she looks too skinny now!"

Farrah stared back, overwhelmed by the sudden attention, her skin crawling with each comment.

"I think she looks beautiful," Yasmine Fayyad spoke up, shooting her a kind smile.

Farrah returned it gratefully, awkwardly rubbing her arm up and down.

"Have you decided when you want to start applying for a higher degree?" Yasmine asked.

A new kind of discomfort settled in her stomach. "Not yet," she replied.

"Don't start it with her now, mom."

The familiar voice released the knots in Farrah's stomach. She looked over her shoulder, finding her approaching best friend with relief. Layla's tall figure halted just next to her.

Yasmine Fayyad narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "I'm just making sure she doesn't end up like you." She darted her gaze back to her friends. "It's been a year since this girl graduated, and no sign of a job or a Master's degree yet," she finished exasperatedly.

Layla discreetly rolled her eyes. She clutched Farrah's upper arm and gave the women a smile faker than stevia. "Excuse us." The girls twirled around before another word could be spoken.

Layla dipped her head, as they started walking, and spoke in Farrah's ear. "And she's not seeing that Master's degree ever," she snorted.

Farrah raised her brows in surprise and turned to face the tall girl. "So you're not pursuing higher education?"

Layla flicked a hand. "Nah, it's not for me."

Farrah nodded. "How come they didn't comment on the colour of your skin?" she asked, pulling a mocking hurt expression, beckoning to Layla's deep brown arm, which had tanned even more under the blazing sun of Indonesia.

"Well, I have always been a kali," she snided. "They are used to it by now."

Farrah turned to look at her, paying attention to Layla for the first time that evening. She was one of the most gorgeous girls Farrah had ever seen. She always believed that.

Even when the two friends strolled down the streets of Ubud a few weeks ago, Layla constantly got second glances from foreign men. But the ignorant of their society failed to see her beauty because she didn't match their 'standard' skin colour. It suddenly made Farrah angry.

The girls stopped when they reached a few familiar looking faces. Dahlia beamed when she saw her best friends and both Farrah and Layla sat down with their group of friends.

Farrah's vexations melted away as she reminisced and laughed with the girls. However, soon Layla was entrusted with the duty of taking care of her American cousin who was visiting town, Dahlia had fluttered off somewhere, and Malika didn't even attend - as predicted - since she wasn't feeling well.

Without the presence of her best friends, Farrah found little interest in any of the topics the other girls were discussing.

On top of all that, her jhumakas were getting heavier on her ears by the minute, and the new heels she was wearing hadn't been completely broken in yet.

She excused herself from the crowd and found an empty table across the lawn, away from the gossip and under an old tree. Farrah sat down, her eyes on the party. She weaved her fingers through her hair once again, shaking them at the roots to salvage some of its earlier volume.

But the locks flopped down against her scalp in unattractive waves.

Humidity was a curse.

A figure slipped in the chair besides hers, letting out an exhausted sigh. Lily Ahmad tipped her head. "What's up?"

Farrah ran a hand through her hair again. "Is it just me or has everyone here become more ruthless?" she asked.

Lily grinned at her words. "The people here haven't changed a bit. I think it's your perception that has altered after living away."

"I guess."

Farrah moved out of her hometown and to Dhaka city to attend University. At first, it was a decision made just for the sake of her education. Soon, Farrah realized it was a fresh start she never knew she needed.

She didn't know how, but somewhere along the way she ceased to relate to this society and the people in it. Perhaps it was right after the death of her uncle Haroon, the person who mattered most to her in the world, that Farrah began to feel distant from everyone in her life. Her mother's scrutinising gaze made her feel suffocated in her own home. However, the years she spent away from these people and her mother, she began to find herself again.

Ever since then, she tried her level best to avoid coming home at any cost. She had probably spent only a handful of holidays with her family. Farrah even took an extra year to graduate to prolong her stay away from home.

She had never been too fond of these people, but their presence was seeming unbearable now.

Lily let go of her shoes and sank further into the chair. "Where's Della?"

"With Azar, I think. Last I saw she was playing with a few kids."

"So she's found people her size."

Farrah let out a laugh at the comment, but gave Lily a 'don't be mean' look. She shook her head and let her gaze wander around the place again.

Someone caught her eyes. A familiar someone.

He was sitting on a quiet corner by himself. His eyes on the crowd, but his face said his mind was elsewhere. His brows were knitted in annoyance as he repeatedly grazed his knuckles with his thumb.

Perfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect hair, a slightly hooked nose which somehow worked for him. Salman Bashir had always been a sight. He had been labelled 'pretty boy' by the girls in their school, and justifiably so.

How long had it been since she last saw him? Three years, when they bumped into Rose's wedding? Or more, when he 'accidentally' spilled a glass of coke on her new Eid dress?

The boyish look he sported for so many years had disappeared, to make way for high cheek bones and a sharp, stubble-covered jaw.

Farrah wondered what the girls in their school would call him now.

Nostalgia bloomed in her heart and a familiar feeling, something she had buried a long time ago, fluttered in her heart. She swallowed and looked away.

Salman Bashir dragged a hand through his hair and leaned back on the chair. He was utterly and absolutely bored. Nothing was happening at this overly done party, only repetition of the same old gossip that had been floating around the community for decades.

Salman tugged at the collar of his simple black full-sleeved shirt, dying to get out of it. He wondered if there was something wrong with the air conditioning system, or if the congested feeling was due to the humongous number of the Rahman children.

He felt someone's gaze on him. Salman narrowed his eyes to make out the face.

Her dark, short hair was covering her face. Her dress was shimmering under the lanterns hanging from the trees. She was rubbing the nape of her neck, pretending like she wasn't secretly staring at him moments ago.

Salman's lips quirked up into a crooked smile when he realized whom it was. He got up and walked towards the two girls.

As Salman approached them, Lily Ahmad greeted him with a smile. Farrah kept her head down, purposely ignoring his presence.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his amused eyes on Lily.

"Feasting with a few Sheikhs in a palace, obviously," she said sarcastically.

"Who in their right mind would invite you anywhere?" he retorted.

Lily glared at him. "Go away, Salman."

He removed his gaze from her and finally settled them on Farrah, his eyes lighting up in a way Farrah grew up watching. "Long time no see, Fatty."

Hearing his old nickname for her, Farrah finally looked up. "Go away, Salman," she repeated, rolling her eyes.

He raised his hands in surrender, his lips breaking into a full-fledged grin that took off years of his face. Salman's eyes lingered on her for a few seconds, his gaze clouded with confusion.

There was something different about her. There was a sharpness in her features that wasn't present before. Farrah had lost some of the weight from her younger years. She carried herself with a new confidence.

Feeling his gaze, Farrah looked up. He was watching her with an intent look she was unfamiliar with, causing her heart to pick up a notch.

As if realizing something, Salman lowered his gaze.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She reciprocated his action and looked away. The old fluttering fanned Farrah's chest.

"I better leave," he announced. "Keep those Sheikhs busy, girl." He told Lily and he turned to leave. Lily's lips quirked up in a smile. "And welcome back, Fatty." He called out over his shoulder, as she caught only a hint of that boyish grin before he left.

Dedicated to Jinnhijabi__ for being my FRAN in this cold, hard world :'(