+-{Part 8}-+
I don't know why it's still this hot at the end of October, but I don't think I'd ever felt a cold day in this country. The sun was blazing away as I made my way out of my last class for the day. Hiding out in Morocco had put me another week behind in my classes. Ali had fixed it all. I magically got notes for what I'd missed and got ridiculously easy makeup quizzes for two classes.
I should have just asked for a diploma for the whole four years. I'm sure the great Ali Hamad could make it happen.
I sat down at a little table at the base of the building where I could come out when Ali texted to say he was here to pick me up. I hurriedly ate the bag of apple slices he had put in my backpack for a snack. He was getting weird about my eating.
I had lost weight when we were in Morocco and more since we got home. He wasn't happy about that. He would argue with me if I didn't eat everything on my plate, but he mostly just looked sad, helpless. He would be upset if he didn't find an empty apple slice bag.
A group of Arab boys sat at the table next to me. Four of them, all with the same close cropped beards, muscled chests covered in brand name European designer t-shirts.
The tallest one, wearing a Yankees baseball cap stood and stretched. He caught me looking at his nicely developed abs as his shirt lifted up. He smiled and gave me a wink, then pulled up the hem of his shirt and secured it between his teeth. It showed off his stomach and all the way up to his left nipple.
I blushed deeply and turned back to my apples. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him let his shirt fall and collapse in a pile of laughs with his friends. I was sure they were laughing at me, probably talking about what a fag I was.
But then he slid over to my table. He took an apple slice from my bag and popped it into his mouth.
I looked up at him with fear. I didn't want to get my ass kicked. He read my face and his lips turned to a confused smile. He mouthed something.
"I'm deaf," I typed into my phone and showed it to him.
His smile turned to embarrassed horror.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I just thought you were being a snob when I tried to talk to you so I came over. Sorry bro. I'm not someone who makes fun of disabled people." He was frantically trying to explain.
"I'm not disabled. Just can't hear. Sorry for looking at your abs. I just wish mine were like that."
"Yeah? Well we should work out together. I could train you. I'm Nabil by the way." He slid in closer to me and put an arm across the back of my chair as he leaned in to type on my phone. He had the smell, the lion scent. It was that mix of sweat and cologne with a surge of innate power. It was the smell of the prowl, the hunt for prey. His body buzzed with it.
"I'm Emerson, Emi for short. I'm not supposed to talk to anyone," I typed, feeling suddenly guilty.
"Oh," he typed and looked over at me without sliding away. "I knew you were taken. This isn't a popular university of blonde American boys. Who is your owner?"
"Ali Hamad," I showed Nabil his picture in my phone. Nabil took it and swiped through the pictures looking at me sitting in Ali's lap, holding on to him in the pool, napping with my head on his chest.
"You are loved," he typed, "It doesn't always go that way for guys like you. But I know Ali, he's a good one. He will take care of you. Be well, Emi." He kissed my cheek, took another apple slice, and went back to his friends.
**************
So much had happened in the last week.
We took a smaller private plane from Morocco since there were four of us and the dog. Kadir had fun roaming around between bored people more likely to pet and play with him. Caleb had made up with Samir, but he was acting really strangely. He signed with me on the flight home to tell me what had happened. Caleb and I went to the front seats while Ali and Samir caught up on work on their laptops together. They both enjoyed the in-flight bartender while we signed together quietly up front.
"It's what you said, Emi," Caleb signed to me, "What do we have to go back to in LA? My mindless job? My classes that I can barely afford to take? I can't even pay for Spring semester. No one is looking out for me. Plus I figured out you weren't coming home with me. Your life has changed so much here. Samir is my best shot at that."
"That's not right, Caleb," I fumed, "Samir really cares about you. You can't use him for money."
"I'm not! I mean he is super hot. We definitely connect. The sex is a little one sided, but he does make me feel good. When you first met Ali, wasn't there some part of you that got turned on at the thought of his money and being taken care of? He put aside a ton of money for you. You're set for life. If I found that in LA it would be with some old freak," Caleb tried to explain.
"No! I never thought of Ali's money. It's still not about money. I never asked for him to put away money for me. I didn't ask for these clothes or any of this. I only knew him for a week, banged my head, and woke up completely involved in this life," I insisted.
"You fell into Wonderland. You were handed a dream," Caleb mused. "Emi through the looking glass..."
"When I saw what they did to protect you," he continued. "I saw what the whole family did to protect you. His father talked with Izem's. Even Zaid offered to give himself for a weekend to Izem. His older brothers who haven't even met you helped by contacting people with information to take Izem out. They really care about their own. You are one of their own."
I didn't know all that had happened. I looked back at Ali and caught his eye. He looked up, concerned, but returned my smile when he saw I was just looking.