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The rain was streaming down when the bus let Saira and Momtaz off a block and a half from the restaurant. They dashed for it, but Saira's hair was still plastered to her head by the time they pushed through the doors.
She shook herself off, trying to catch her breath.
"I'm dying for the loo," Momtaz muttered, and shoved past Saira in the direction of the toilets.
A server smiled welcomingly from over at the high counter that shielded the kitchen from the restaurant. "Uh, I'm meeting someone," Saira said before they could ask, and she craned her head around into the restaurant, peering at the cozy low-lit tables until she spotted a familiar pastel pink headscarf and Amina's wide-eyed, tremulous smile.
She thumped into the chair opposite Amina, and tossed her a grin. "Hey," she said.
"Um, hi. Yeah. Hi," Amina said.
Saira pressed her lips together, trying not to find Amina’s whole bashful wide-eyed Disney princess thing adorable. But it was too late; that ship had long since sailed. Not only had it set sail, it had jauntily circumnavigated the globe, picked up a crew of theatrical pirates, run aground on an inconvenient sandbar, and was currently hosting weekly 'We Love Amina' theme nights for tourists.
“So. How’re the slimes?" Saira said, raking her fingers through her hair to shake more water out.
"Slimy," Amina said immediately. "Thanks for asking."
"Heh, well –"
"Well, I mean," Amina went on, her nose scrunching up, which totally didn’t do anything to her levels of adorability, "technically they're not slimes, they're algae, and – you might be surprised to hear this, hahaha – they're not actually slimy per se –"
"Sliminess is a state of mind," Saira put in to save herself another algae lecture. "That's what I always say."
Amina let out a slow breath. "Exactly," she said, and bestowed a goofy, glowing smile on Saira. Saira smiled helplessly back. "I'm glad we could, um, you know," Amina added, and bit her lip.
Saira raised an eyebrow at her. "Eat overpriced kebabs in this joint?"
"Yeah," Amina said, still pleasingly pink-cheeked. "Yeah, yes. Well, I mean. Eat a meal together that's not in a butcher's shop." She shot Saira a wide-eyed look. "Please don't take that the wrong way! It's a great butcher's shop! So, um – butchery! Great vibes, you know? I just –"
"Y'know, I told Mo he should use 'great vibes' as his slogan."
Amina blinks at her. "Did you?"
"Nah," Saira said.
"Oh," Amina said, and then she smiled at her again, so earnest and sweet it made Saira want to jump off a cliff. She squirmed in her seat, caught on the knife’s edge of desperately wanting to hear what Amina said next, and urgently wanting her to keep her mouth shut until she learned to stop being so goddamn sincere.
She shoved her hand under her thigh to stop herself from doing something horrible like reach for Amina's hand so she could feel the calluses on her fingertips.
"Well, then, I'm just glad," Amina said. She glanced down at the menus on the table, fiddling with the napkin which was actual fucking cloth, and then up at Saira again. "Um, to be honest," she went on, big dark eyes pinning Saira to her seat, and Saira's breath caught in her throat. "I wasn't even sure if you'd be into –"
"Heya," Momtaz said, and noisily dragged the chair next to Saira out from under the table.
Amina paused, her mouth open, and stared up at Momtaz blankly.
"Heads-up, there's no paper in the stall at the end," Momtaz added.
Saira wrenched her gaze away from Amina's wide, startled eyes to look at Momtaz, something curdling in her belly, thick and hot.
"Well, tell someone who works here," she told Momtaz.
Momtaz raised her eyebrow. "Well, I will if I see them, just didn't want my friends to get caught bare-arsed, did I?"
Saira crossed her arms.
"Um, hi," Amina broke in. "Sorry, I didn't realize – not that I'm not – sorry. Hi, Taz!"
"Hi," Momtaz said, and shot an indecipherable look at Saira.
"What?" Saira said, abruptly on the defensive.
Ayesha and Bisma chose that inopportune moment to arrive, too, dripping rain water everywhere and dragging chairs from a nearby table to pile around them.
"Some fuckface drenched me when I was crossing the street," Ayesha was saying as Bisma dropped a kiss on Amina's forehead. "Fucking sewer water all over –"
"Oh, so, you're, you're, you’re all here, wow –" Amina said, and her face was flushed pink, eyes darting between them.
Saira's gut roiled.
"Yeah, sorry we're late," Bisma told Amina warmly. "Our Uber got stuck behind this delivery truck –"
A server coughed loudly behind them. "Has your whole party arrived?" he said in a snotty tone of voice.
"Um," Amina said. "Um, sorry. If we could just – I think I need to update my reservation –"
Saira snorted, and gestured to the sparsely-filled restaurant. “It’s a Tuesday and it’s a miserable night. I think we can get away without a reservation, Amina.”
"Why would you bother with a reservation, anyway," Ayesha muttered.
"Um, I think, I think I just need a minute," Amina said, and stood up abruptly.
"I'll come back," the server said flatly.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Bisma said, as Amina started moving towards the toilets.
"Don't use the one on the end!" Momtaz called after her.
Three pairs of eyes swung onto Saira.
"What?" she said again.
"You told us Amina wanted the whole band to come out to try this place," Momtaz said.
There was a sinking feeling in Saira's belly.
"She did! She said –"
"Uh-huh," Bisma said. "We're gonna need you to think very carefully about what exactly she told you."
Saira glared at her. "Dinner! That's what she said!"
"She obvs didn’t expect me to be here," Momtaz said. "She didn't expect to see anyone but you."
"She picked this cute, intimate, little table instead of one that would actually fit five people," Ayesha added pointedly, knocking her knee viciously against Saira’s.
"She made a reservation," Bisma said. "That's motherfucking date activity, if I've ever seen it."
Saira felt herself go hot. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. "That's stupid," she managed. "She isn't – she wouldn't –"
"I think we better get going, lads," Ayesha said, "and leave these lovebirds alone," and Momtaz nodded.
Saira shook her head frantically.
"You got this, babe," Bisma murmured low in her ear.
When Amina got back, all three of the traitors were standing up. Momtaz was on her phone booking an Uber, and Ayesha was complaining about the sewer water on her coat while Bisma pet Saira's shoulders comfortingly. It probably should've felt patronizing, but Saira didn’t want her to stop.
She straightened up. Amina shot her a wide-eyed look, and then glanced around at the rest of the band. "Um –" she said.
"Yeah, turns out they're real sticklers about reservations in this place," Ayesha said.
"But a cozy dinner for two is perfect for a night like tonight!" Bisma said.
"We gotta jet," Momtaz said.
"Oh, I –" Amina said, but there was a flurry of damp hugs and goodbyes, and then Saira's horrible ex-friends straight-up disappeared out of the doors of the goddamn first-date-vibes restaurant.
Amina sat back down across from Saira. She didn't say a word, staring down at the menu announcing 'Halal' and 'Vegetarian options available' in fancy lettering.
At least Amina wasn't leaving, too.
Heart thumping, Saira cleared her throat.
"Are you ready to order now?" the server said, appearing from nowhere.
"Fuck, mate! We haven't even looked at the menus!" Saira snapped.
He gave them an unimpressed look. "I'll come back," he said.
Saira looked helplessly at Amina, who was still gazing determinedly at the riveting selection of fancy, overpriced kebabs and halloumi and falafel platters.
"Amina," she managed.
Amina shook her head, and Saira snapped her mouth shut. “I feel like a fool," she burst out, not looking up. “I had all these, these romantic movies looping in my head about you and me – There was even a dance number, oh my god – God, this is the most humiliating – You must think I'm such a – an idiot –"
"I don't," Saira broke in. “I’m no good at dance numbers, anyway. And I think you're really fucking brave –"
"I'm not! I'm not. I'm scared all the time –"
"Me too!" Saira said, lightning quick. "I'm fucking terrified –"
Amina looked up at that, eyes bright and fierce. "Don't patronize me –"
"It's the truth!" Saira snapped, and Amina shut her mouth. Saira heaved in a breath and shoved her fingers in her armpits. "I didn't want to hear, okay? When you – when you asked. Earlier." At the abruptly frozen look on Amina's face, she hurriedly said, "No, no, no, what I mean is, I was shit fucking scared to hear what you were saying. It was – easier to just invite everyone along than admit – Fucking fuck. You gotta know I'm not good at –" She waved her hand at the table between them. "This. This shit. I don't know how to fucking do this."
"This?" Amina repeated softly.
Saira stared at her. "Go on a, uh,” she said. "Date."
"Oh," Amina said, and there was a tiny smile trembling on her lips that made Saira's heart thwack against her ribs. "I have a confession to make."
She was tilting over the table towards Saira, eyes on her face, so Saira leaned forward, too. "What?"
Amina lowered her voice, cupping a hand around her mouth in a cheesy exaggerated whisper. "I don't know how to date, either."
Saira raised her brows back at her, overwhelmed by a sudden, desperate fondness. “Wow,” she whispered back. “So, we’re a couple of frauds. What're we gonna do?"
Amina shrugged, a swift little movement of her shoulders and roll of her eyes that was impossibly cute. The impulse to sit on her hands again swept over Saira, but instead she slid a shaky hand onto the tablecloth. Palm down, staying firmly on her side of the table – deniable, but still. There. Out in the open.
"Maybe we start by just eating dinner," Amina said, and her warm fingers nudged just under Saira’s fingertips. Not holding hands, but not not doing that.
She tried to catch her breath. She’d been right. Amina was the brave one.
"Yeah? And that’s it?” she said, helpless to prevent a smile tipping the corner of her mouth upwards.
"Yeah," Amina said, smiling back. “It’s just like sliminess. A state of mind.”
Saira snorted out loud. “You’re the most –” she started.
"Are you ready to order now?" the server said unexpectedly.
Amina let out a squeak of surprise, and Saira jerked back in alarm. "Fucking hell, mate!"
"Um, I think we need another minute," Amina said, and she was blushing and looking at Saira with that wide-eyed swoon-worthy Disney princess gaze.
Saira used to be stone-cold swoon-proof. Well, not anymore, shit. She swallowed, as something did cartwheels in her belly, probably pulling off a goddamn dance number while waving 'We Love Amina' banners.
The server had fucked off again.
“Um,” said Amina. “What were you, um, saying?”
Saira felt herself flush. “Uh, just, you’re the most – just the most, I guess. The person I most want to be here with. If, uh. If that makes sense.”
Amina was still flatteringly pink-cheeked, and for once, Saira didn’t want to shake that warm, smiling earnestness off her face.
“Yes,” Amina said softly. “It makes the most sense.”
They stared at one another.
“Well,” Saira said, heart still thumping heavily in her chest. "Here we are. Just the, uh, two of us. Together.”
"Yes," Amina said. She tilted her head to indicate the restaurant around them, blinking her wide eyes innocently. "Good thing I made a reservation."
“Yeah, definitely a good thing,” Saira said, and meant it.