23
AREZOO
Arezoo sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the phone in her hands. Ruvon's number glowed on the screen, saved just hours ago at the playground. The first phone number she'd ever received from a man who wasn't family.
She should delete it. That would be the smart thing to do. Delete the number, forget about the bar, forget about the mortifying embarrassment she'd felt when he'd asked her mother's permission to take her out on a date and had gotten dismissed like a bothersome pest.
Her thumb hovered over the delete button.
A sharp knock on her sliding glass door made her jump, the phone tumbling from her hands onto the bedspread. Her heart raced as she stared at the closed shutters. Who would be knocking on her door at this hour?
Maybe it was Azadeh? Her cousin wouldn't be out this late, and if something happened to anyone in her family, they would come through the front door instead of knocking on her screen.
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
Arezoo remained frozen. Should she call for her mother?
When her phone buzzed with an incoming text, she grabbed it, and the name on the screen was enough to clarify who was banging on her shutters.
It's me outside your door. Let me in.
Arezoo exhaled slowly, tension draining from her shoulders. It was just Drova.
She typed back quickly.I can't open the shutters. They come down automatically at night.
She'd tried, but the button wouldn't respond.
The answer came in a moment later.Turn off the lights first, dummy.It's a safety mechanism to prevent someone from accidentally raising the shutters when the lights are still on.
That made sense. Why hadn't she thought of that?
But wouldn't the sound of the shutters opening wake her mother?
What if it did, though? It was just Drova. Her mother might disapprove of the timing of the visit, but she would allow it. Probably.
After switching off the lights, Arezoo pressed the button again, and the shutters responded, rising with a mechanical whir and a rattle that seemed impossibly loud in the quiet night. Drova's silhouette appeared against the starlit sky, tall and impossibly thin, her large eyes reflecting the scant light available.
"Finally." Drova stepped in after Arezoo unlocked the door and slid it open. "You can close the shutters now and turn on the lights."
When illumination flooded the room, she found Drova examining her space with those unnerving eyes, taking in the neat desk, the bedspread, the complete absence of personal touches.
"Your room looks like a hotel," Drova said. "Where's all your stuff?"
"This is my stuff," Arezoo said, gesturing at the few items she'd accumulated since arriving at the village—some clothes in the closet, a few books on the desk, her phone charger.
"Sad, but familiar." Drova flopped onto the bed with less grace than usual, her long limbs sprawling. "I was in the same situation when I first got to the village. We came with nothing, even less than this. You need to get a couple of posters to liven up the space, or a lava lamp. It was one of the first things I got for my room."
"Did you come here to critique my decor?"
"No." Drova sat up, her expression turning a little scary. Determined. "I came to break you out of this prison." She sounded dead serious. "The bar. Tonight. You and me." Drova's grin didn't soften her friend's predatory determination. "You're not a child, and it's time your mother acknowledged that."
Arezoo could practically hear her mother complaining about Drova being a bad influence on her. This would prove her right and endanger the only friendship she had in the village.
"Absolutely not." She backed away from Drova.
"You can't let your mother control you forever." Drova bounced on the bed, looking excited by her own rebellion. "You're nineteen. You're an adult, and that's why we have to go."
"That's not how it works in my family."
