dreamty's game

This year’s Ramadan was an anxious prospect for Leila. It was the first one they had to spend all alone. They had forgotten to eat in the morning since their phone was broken, which meant no alarm, and obviously no one to wake them up. Not that they would have had much to eat anyway, aside from a few overripe bananas, the fridge was empty. Needless to say, their fast hadn’t begun under the best conditions. They slipped out at the end of the afternoon, throwing a random jacket on top of their pajamas and headed to the convenience store down the street. The familiar chime rang as they entered, they were ready to go straight to the food aisles when a familiar voice called them out. “Not even saying hello, huh?” They turned, a little surprised to see her— slightly embarrassed as well… They were a total mess. “Rosanne? What are you doing here?” “Uhm… I work here…?” she replied teasingly. “You know what I meant…” Rosanne raised her hands in surrender, not wanting to mock her friend any longer. “Alright, alright… I took the day shift since my mom wants me home for the first day of Ramadan.” “Wait, you’re muslim too?” “I never told you? My bad. In my defense my relationship with religion is a bit… chaotic.” A brief silence fell as Leila drifted in their thoughts, quickly broken by Rosanne. “Last minute purchase for iftar?” Leila blinked, remembering why they had come. “Ah… yes. My fridge is empty.” “Haha, figured. If you want, my boss made a stock of brick pastry sheets for the occasion.” “Thanks, but I don’t know how to make bricks. I’m just here for a salad and a sandwich.” They spoke as they moved, grabbing what they needed from the fridge before going back to the counter. Rosanne stared at their selection with disbelief. “You can’t be serious?” “Well, I am. How much do I owe you?” “Five forty, but that’s not the point, these are barely nutritious.

Leila handed over the money, silently asking for her not to pry any further. Rosanne gave them their change with a sigh. “What time do you usually go to sleep?” Leila raised an eyebrow. “Why? I look that bad?” “Just answer me!” They shrugged. “Depends. I haven’t been sleeping early lately. So I’d say midnight? Probably later. Rosanne nodded, taking good note of it. “Alright, see you then!” “Wha-” But she didn’t let them time to answer and greeted the next client, not without a last, teasing glance toward Leila. Back home, Leila was still a bit stunned by this interaction, but they were starting to get used to it. Rosanne was quite a phenomenon, but they can’t say she was an unpleasant company. After a quick shower, they immediately prepared themself their salad — over salting it by accident — and opened the box of tuna sandwiches they just bought.  Leila sighed at this view, they kinda missed the feast they used to eat at this period of the month with their family. Maybe they should have taken the brick pastry sheets as Rosanne recommended, tried to make some, but they didn’t trust their cooking skills enough for that and it wasn’t the best period to waste food.

A few hours later, the doorbell rang. Leila froze and muted the TV. Who could be here at this hour? They silently crept to the window to get a glimpse of the impromptu visitor and immediately relaxed at the sight of Rosanne’s unmistakable pink cheetah print faux-fur coat. They quickly fixed their hair before opening the door. “Heyy! Ramadan mubarak!” Leila went speechless at the sight of the size of the enormous bag Rosanne was holding. “What’s all this?” Rosanne slipped inside the house, kicking her shoes at the door, and made her way to the living room. “This, sweetie, is some of the best pieces of Turkish cuisine you could get your hands on.” “You made it?” “Yup, with my mom. Taste it and see how wife material I am.” A faint blush reached Leila’s ears as Rosanne filled the coffee table dish after dish? They stepped forward, ready to taste everything, but Rosanne stopped her mid-motion. “Wait! It’s aesthetically perfect. I need a picture for my story.” A little laugh escaped their lips as they patiently waited for Rosanne to carefully capture the table. “Okay!” she said proudly “So here you have some köfte, moroccans have something similar, right? Here it’s pide, which was a hassle to save for you because my dumb brother almost ate all of it. Over there it’s called gözleme and, obviously, I brought some dolma. I hope you’ll like it.” Leila made sure to take a bite of everything. Each dish was better than the last, but it was far more than she could finish. “Thank you so much Rosanne, it was delicious, but I think you might have overestimated my stomach.” “What? You’re already full?! I had a surprise for you.” “If it’s the baklava, I’ll save them for later.” “No, something better.” She rummaged through the plastic bag and revealed a plate of a dozen golden brick pastries. “Tada! We don’t usually make this at home but I wanted to try so I could bring you some. Leila froze, staring at her as if she’d just performed a miracle. “How did you know I love these?” “I didn’t! All of my Arab friends told me it was the thing to bring. That’s your favorite?” “Not exactly, but I did missed it.” They took a large bite, savoring it slowly, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. If they could cry right now, they might have. “You’re definitely marriage material, this is incredible.” they joked. “Well, I guess all that’s left is for you to propose.” “Hmm, maybe I will.” Rosanne tried her best to hide the deep red blooming across her face. Every time she tried to fluster Leila, she somehow ended up flustered herself.