Silent hearts
After my tutoring shift, I was walking home with a carton of eggs when a motorcycle screeched to a halt beside me. Before I could react, the guy riding pillion snatched the gold chain from around my neck—and they sped off like ghosts.
I hit the pavement, stunned. My eggs smashed on the street, yolks oozing everywhere. My throat tightened. I was on the verge of tears when another motorcycle pulled up.
A man in a helmet stepped off. I couldn't see his face. My heart pounded—I thought it was another member of the same gang, coming back to finish what they started. I grabbed my bag tight against my chest.
Then came a deep voice:
"Excuse me, miss. Planning to sit in the middle of the road all day? Or should I just drive over you?"
I blinked up at him. Still dazed, I scanned him head to toe. Then I looked down—and gasped.
His boot was planted right on top of my broken eggs.
I pushed him. "What is wrong with you? You here to steal my bag too? And seriously? You had to step on my eggs? In broad daylight? Have you no shame? There's nothing in here worth stealing. Your buddy already took the chain!"
Only then did I feel the sting on my neck. It was scraped and bleeding.
He didn't respond. Just stared through the dark visor.
Then he asked: "What's your name?"
Through gritted teeth, I muttered, "Blue-bike thief."
That made him flinch. "Are you insane? What kind of name is that? I'm asking your name!"
I tilted my head. "Oh, I thought you meant your name. Or your partner's. You all ride the same blue bikes, right? Did you know blue is the most common favorite color in the world? Just saying…"
He shook his head and walked over to his bike.
"You walk around empty streets like this and wonder why stuff happens to you? Someone could knock you out and dump your body right here. You new around here?"
I stood up straight. Not backing down.
I'm Najli Khan, and I don't get pushed around. He may look calm, but he was definitely linked to those guys. If he thought I'd roll over and cry, he picked the wrong girl.
As he honked for me to move, I stepped forward and tapped twice on his helmet. He paused, then slowly removed it—shook out his hair, locked eyes with me.
"What's your problem?" he barked. "Why are you blocking the road?"
Before he could say more, I grabbed his helmet—and ran.
He just stood there, frozen. A few steps later, I turned and shouted:
"Mr. Blue-Bike! You'll get your helmet back when I get my chain. Deal? Meet me at the fruit stall near the corner store, 4 PM, two days from now. And the name's Najli Khan. Try anything slick, and your helmet becomes my new fruit bowl. Byeee!"
And I ran home without looking back.
Later that day...
I bought a bag of tomatoes from a vendor, but it ripped halfway down the street. Tomatoes rolled everywhere. Of course. Today was cursed.
I knelt down to pick them up. No one helped. People just walked past. Typical.
Then someone crouched beside me. A man. Helping me gather them.
"What's your name?" he asked softly.
I didn't even look up. "You've asked that every day for four days. Same place. And every time, something bad happens right before."
He chuckled. "Life throws stuff at you. I just happen to be there when it does. I'm not the curse—I'm the clean-up crew. Just trying to help. And maybe… learn your name?"
He handed me a new bag he'd just bought.
"You know," I said lightly, "if you were that curious, you could've just followed me home."
"But you didn't," I added. "You just stand around, waiting for the right moment. Fine. Here it is: Nur Khan. And yes, I'm new here. But let's stop talking now. People are watching."
I walked away.
Nur doesn't usually talk to strange guys. But something about this one... felt safe. At least now he knows my name. No more awkward sidewalk stares.
Back home…
Nur paused in the doorway.
"Najli! What is that doing here?"
Najli sat cross-legged, staring at the helmet.
"That?" she said calmly. "That's a helmet."
Nur dropped her bag and sat beside her. "I know it's a helmet. I meant—how did it get here?"
"I borrowed it."
"You what?!"
"Okay, I stole it. But technically it's collateral."
Nur blinked. "We've lived here two weeks and you've already robbed someone?! What if he calls the cops?"
"He won't," Najli shrugged. "He could've chased me—but didn't. That tells me everything."
Nur groaned. "You really think he'll just let it go?"
"I saw it in his eyes. He's not like the rest. I know he'll bring my chain back. I just gave him a reason to."
Nur took off her necklace and handed it over.
"Wait, why are you giving me your chain?"
"If yours is gone, mine stays off too. Remember what Dad said? 'You're two halves of one soul.' He gave us these. We wear them together—or not at all."
Najli's throat tightened at the mention of their father. She wiped her eyes quickly. She had to be strong—for Nur.
Two days later, 4 PM
Najli arrived at the fruit stall. She hadn't seen the blue-bike guy since. She expected him to be mad, maybe even yell. But there he was—calmly sipping tea on a stool.
She marched up, holding the helmet.
"Ahem. Mr. Blue-Bike. I see you actually showed up."
He turned with a grin. "Miss Najli Khan. Your favorite thing is with me. My favorite thing is with you. Of course I showed up. Adil Rahman never backs down from a challenge."
She blinked. "You brought it?"
He smirked. "You'll get it after our little competition."
"Competition?" she frowned.
"To win back your chain… you have to beat me in a banana-eating contest."
To be continued…