Chapter 8: The Moments that We Smile and Those between

(Aisha)

"T-t-this is your uncle?" I stammered.

"Yup," Clara answered, jumping off the chair.

Roderick's expression was blank as he stared back at me. I couldn't tell if he was still pissed because of what I said or if he was just tired. I was at a loss for words.

"Have you seen Clara's projects yet?" I managed.

"Some of them," Roderick answered.

"Well, you should see more of it," I said. "She's a very good student. Probably the best in the class. You must be very proud of her."

"I am," Roderick said. "Thanks."

"Come on," Clara said, grabbing his hand. "I want to show you some more of my art work."

Before Roderick and I could exchange any more words, Clara pulled him away. I watched them half the night. I watched Clara pointing eagerly at the paintings and then pulling Roderick to another one when he was trying to look at the one she took him to in the first place.

So, she does have someone, I thought. Roderick must have worked his work schedule around so he could be here tonight. That was so nice of him. He actually looked like he was enjoying the art show. I guess he wasn't as insensitive as I thought he would be, I thought.

I stayed behind when the show was over to take the pictures off the walls so I could give them to the kids on Monday. Clara's was one of the last ones I took down. Every time I looked at one of her pictures I kept thinking of her and Roderick together. It really was a nice mental picture.

My thoughts of Roderick and Clara disappeared when I left the building. I hated walking the streets alone at night. I didn't mind if I had someone with me and I didn't mind walking alone in broad daylight. But, I was afraid to walk alone at night. I was paranoid about that sort of thing.

For some reason, I felt like someone was following me. I looked down at the ground and there was a shadow walking behind me at the same pace I was. Get a grip, I thought. No one's following you. I quickened my pace and the shadow quickened it's pace.

The faster I walked, the faster the shadow walked. I was being followed. I started to panic. I kept a pocketknife in my purse just in case someone tried to kill me, so I took it out. I backed up a few paces and then threw my arm around the person's neck and held the knife to their face. I couldn't see who it was, but I was still afraid.

"WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?" I screamed.

"Jesus Christ," the person said. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Roderick, I thought. It was definitely Roderick's voice. I released him and put the knife away.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I hate walking out here at night. It kind of freaks me out."

"Kind of?" Roderick asked.

"Okay, it scares the hell out of me," I confessed.

"No kidding," Roderick said. "I can't believe you keep a pocket knife in your purse."

"You never know what you might need it for," I said.

"Who taught you that kind of self-defense?"

"My fath-"

I quickly cut myself off. My father taught me? No. My father couldn't defend himself if his life depended on it. But, how did I know how to do that? I didn't remember taking a self-defense class either.

"I guess I just learned it from a movie," I said. There was no need to let him know that I didn't remember how I learned how to defend myself.

"You have very good observational skills," Roderick said.

"What are you doing following me anyway?" I asked.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to get some coffee or something," he answered.

"What about Clara?"

"She's at home with her parents."

"After I bitched at you twice now you want to have coffee with me? You sure you want to take the risk of me throwing coffee at you?"

"Why not?" Roderick replied.

"Hot coffee."

"I'll take that risk."

I smiled. No matter what I said to Murray, I did want to see him again and maybe coffee wouldn't be so bad. Besides it wasn't like we were dating. It was an innocent cup of coffee.

"Okay," I said.

(Roderick)

When Aisha finished off her drink, she tossed it over my head and into the trash bin behind me.

"Score!" she said, raising her arms in mock-victory.

I smiled. I honestly had no idea Aisha would be at that art show. I didn't know that she was Clara's favorite teacher. I was glad she was there. I was glad I ran into her again. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I did want to see her again.

"Nice shot," I said.

"Thanks," Aisha replied. "So, what were you doing at the art show? I mean, I thought you'd be busy. Did you work your schedule around it?"

"I actually quit on Monday," I answered.

"Really?" Aisha's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah. What you said really struck a cord with me, so I quit."

Aisha suddenly looked guilty.

"What?" I asked.

"I feel really bad about the other day," she said.

"Don't," I said.

"No, I was out of line," she said. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. It was wrong."

She said something that I couldn't hear, but it sounded like, "I'm a bitch."

"No, you're not," I said.

"Yes, I am," Aisha retorted.

"No," I said. "You were right. I really was wasting my life in that office. If you didn't say that I wouldn't be able to go to Clara's art show."

Aisha gave a little half smile while looking down at the table and then it dropped back into a frown.

"Hey," I said. "Don't make that face. It looks really bad on you."

Aisha chuckled. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem," I replied. "And I wasn't exactly Mr. Manners the other day either."

"You're forgiven," Aisha said.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome."

Aisha looked out the window at some people walking by and once again I was captivated by how pretty she was. Stop it, I ordered myself as I sipped my drink.

"So," Aisha said, turning her attention back to me. "How come you were at Clara's art show instead of her parents?"

"They had to work," I said. "My sister, like me, is a workaholic. Actually, our parents were workaholics, too."

"So, it's genetic," Aisha said.

"Yeah. I guess one of us had to break the cycle, right?"

"I'm glad you did."

"Me, too."

Aisha looked down at her watch.

"It's getting late," she said, getting up. "I should go home."

"Do you want me to walk home with you?" I asked.

"No thanks," she replied. "I'm fine. I'll see you around."

"Bye," I said.

Aisha waved and walked out of the coffee shop. I stayed rooted to my seat as I watched her through the window walk away. It suddenly hit me that I didn't get her number. Why did you do that? A voice in my head screamed. I probably would never run into her again. The city was huge and the chances of me running into her again were slim…………

The bell jingling above the door rang and Aisha stood under it.

"On second thought," she said. "Can you?"

I nodded and stood up to walk her home. Thank you, God, I thought. You wouldn't let her get away from me.

"So, what are you doing now?" Aisha asked. "I mean, now that you're out of a job, what are you doing now?"

"I basically turned my apartment into a recording studio," I answered. "Not the bedroom. Just the living room."

"Have you recorded anything yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well, when you do, you'll have to let me listen to it some time."

"Okay."

She stopped in front of a brick building with a green awning right across the street from Central Park.

"Is this you?" I asked.

"Yeah," Aisha answered.

"Wow, it's nice," I said.

"Thanks," I said.

She turned to go inside. Wait, I thought. Get her number or something.

"Hey," I said.

Aisha stopped abruptly and turned around.

"I……..um………..actually do want your, uh, input," I stammered.

"What?" Aisha looked at me quizzically.

"For my song," I said.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I mentally screamed at myself. I was probably going to scare her off. What was wrong with me?

"Did you write a song?" Aisha asked.

"Not yet," I said, clearing my throat. "But, when I do……..you know……..I definitely, uh………..you know……………."

I was really embarrassing myself. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole so I would be buried alive. But, for some reason the thought of being buried alive scared me a little bit. Why? Why did that thought scare me so much? Why am I thinking about that? I thought. Aisha suddenly started laughing.

"You know," she said, taking out a piece of paper and writing something down. "When I first met you, I thought you were cocky. But, now I see how vulnerable you are."

She handed me a piece of paper. "Don't lose that," she said. "Give me a call when you have a song you want my input on."

"Okay," I said. "I'll see you around."

"Okay," Aisha said, smiling. "Good night."

"Good night."

Our gaze locked for a second and then Aisha went inside her building.I turned around and walked away. I felt like skipping and acting like a total moron, but I restrained myself. I felt like I was back in high school. I got her number! I thought. Maybe it would lead to something more.

The End………..

A/N: I KNOW IT'S BAD! SHUT UP! Chapter 9 is coming soon.