Chapter Five Where It All Began.

Dinner the first night was always the same: a big pot of spicy bouillabaisse that Leila cooked up while she waited for us to arrive. Lots of shrimp and crab legs and squid she knew I loved squid. Even when I was little, I would pick out the squid and save it for last. Leila put the pot in the middle of the table, along with a few crusty loaves of French bread from the bakery nearby. Each of us would get a bowl, and we'd help ourselves to the pot all throughout dinner, dipping the ladle back into the pot. Leila and my mother always had red wine, and us kids had grape Fanta, but on that night there were wineglasses for everyone.

"I think we're all old enough to partake now, don't you, Freya?" Leila said as we sat down.

"I don't know about that," my mother began, but then she stopped."Oh, all right. Fine. I'm being provincial, isn't that right, Beck?"

Leila laughed and uncorked the bottle. "You? Never," she said, pouring a little wine for each of us. It's a special night. It's the first night of summer."

Khalil drank his wine in about two gulps. He drank it like he was used to drinking it. I guess a lot can happen over the course of a year. He said, “It's not the first night of summer, Mom."

"Oh, yes it is. Summer doesn't start until our friends get here," Leila said, reaching across the table and touching my hand, and Khalil’s , too.

He jerked away from her, almost by accident.

Leila didn't seem to notice, but I did. I always noticed Khalil.

Malik must have seen it too, because he changed the subject. “Zarah, check out my latest scar," he said, pulling up his shirt. "I scored three field goals that night." Malik played football. He was proud of all of his battle scars.

I leaned in next to him to get a good look. It was a long scar that was just beginning to fade, right across the bottom of his stomach. Clearly, he'd been working out. His stomach was flat and hard, and it hadn't looked like that last summer even. He looked bigger than Khalil now. “Wow," I said.

Khalil snorted. "Malik just wants to show off his two-pack," he said, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it into his bowl. "Why don't you show all of us, and not just Zarah?"

“Yeah, show us, Malik," Amir said, grinning.

Malik grinned right back. To Khalil he said, "You're just jealous because you quit." Khalil had quit football? That was news to me.

"Khalil, you quit, man?" Amir asked. I guessed it was news to him, too. Khalil was really good; Leila used to mail us his newspaper clippings. He and Malik had been on the team together these last two years, but it was Khalil who’d been the star.

Khalil shrugged indifferently. His hair was still wet from the pool, and so was mine. "It got boring,"he said.

What he means is, he got boring," Malik said. Then he stood up and pulled off his shirt. “Pretty nice,huh?"

Leila threw her head back and laughed, and my mother did too. "Sit down, Malik," she said, shaking the loaf of bread at him like a sword.

"What do you think, Zarah?"he asked me. He

looked like he was winking even though he wasn't.

Pretty nice," I agreed, trying not to smile.

“Now it's Zarah’s turn to show off;" Khalil said

mockingly.

“Zarah doesn't need to show off. We can all see how lovely she is just looking at her," Leila said, sipping her wine and smiling at me.

Lovely? Yeah, right," said Amir. "She's a lovely pain in my ass."

"Amir ," my mother warned.

"What? What'd I say?"he asked.

"Amir’s too much of a pig to understand the

concept of lovely," I said sweetly. I pushed the bread to him. "Oink, oink, Amir. Have some more bread."

"Don't mind if i do," he said, breaking of a crusty chunk.

"Zarah, tell us about all the hot friends you're

gonna set me up with," Malik said.

"Didn't we already try that once?" I said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about Lila Jewel already."

Everyone busted up laughing then, even Khalil.

Malik’s cheeks turned pink, but he was laughing too, and shaking his head. "You're not a nice girl, Zarah," he said. “There's plenty of cute girls at the country club, so don't worry about me. Worry about Khalil . He's the one missing out."

The original plan was for both Malik and

Khalil to work at the country club as lifeguards. Khalil had done it the sunmmer before. This summer Malik was old enough to do it with him, but Khalil changed his mind at the last minute and decided to bus tables at the fancy seafood buffet instead.

We used to go there all the time. Kids twelve and younger could eat there for twenty dollars. There was a time when I was the only one twelve or younger. My mother always made sure to tell the waiter that I was younger than twelve. As, like, principle. Every time she did it, I felt like disappearing. I wished I was invisible. It wasn't that the boys even made a big deal out of it, which they easily could have, but it was the feeling different, like an outsider, that I hated. I hated it being pointed out. I just wanted to be like them.