Leila, Sheila and I. A short story by Kulpreet Yadav

Leila looked happy. Very happy!

She laughed easily and even threw in a few jokes. Inexpensive, now that the ones she talked about were exposed, I too enjoyed her jokes.

“That Sheila… she was the wedge. Didn’t I tell you?” She again burst out laughing, perhaps for the millionth time.

I smiled, as bravely as I could. The cheeks hurt. So I scratched the day old stubble in self-consolation. The shower of the salt and pepper tit bits that grew ambitiously, on most parts of my face, stung my fingers back in return.

Shelia! It was difficult to stomach her ridiculous competitive hatred for Sheila. In fact, I liked her more. She wore her body rather more delicately and seemed less possessive. In her company I definitely had more breathing space. But, why Leila then, everyone asked? I knew the answer, but lied. It was easy to lie. After all, who doesn’t need money?

We ordered another round of beer. It was our third pitcher. I looked at the watch. The happy hours had gone and I knew now every sip would be dearer. The small wallet in my denim trousers screamed. Any other order and I would not be able to pay. I hated myself for giving up the credit card.

“Í was sure you would some to me. But now that we are talking about it, tell me, is it not true that you were all head over heels over that bitch Sheila?”
The sting hurt me again. A couple of quick gulps of beer helped. I smiled as bravely as I could, turning my head from one side to the other.

“Hmmm…”

When she was gone, I called Sheila. “I am at the bank, you know. Making a draft for my dad” I had to. For I had felt her call silently purr at least five times in my pocket. “I was worried” Her voice hung in the ears long after. It disappeared only when Leila came back bathed in a fresh overdose of paint and spray. She looked hot.

“At least keep you mouth closed… You are embarrassing me”. She had to say it thrice, before the sound waves reached me. I shifted in my chair. The adjustment became necessary. The cell phone again started purring silently. I knew Sheila would come to know, her worries so damn close trapped in my phone, inches away from the place that was in riots. But how is that possible. Am I already drunk?

“Please promise me, you will never talk to that bitch Sheila again.”

I nodded hypnotized.

“Please promise me that you will also never talk to Anita”

I continued nodding. Somewhere in the back of my mind a skinny smiling face came, waved and ducked out of the view. It didn’t really hurt to let her go. On second thoughts, it did. But only like a slight pang of sadness. I dealt with this one rather well.

Leila ordered another pitcher. It sent my sprits down. But only for a few seconds. I got an idea. I nursed it for a while, sipping beer. Then, from the secrecy of the restroom, I called Sheila

“Sheila, can you please lend me some money…”

“About two thousand…”

“Shit!”

Leila naughtily winked when I got back. I scratched my stubble and smiled. The smile stayed for I don’t know how long. Leila kept on speaking animatedly, curling her fingers, pulling her hair, inspecting her fingernails and winking every few sentences. I thought, perhaps, this is her idea to energize for sex. Sex, yes that word made sense. In fact a lot of sense. I looked at her again with renewed interest. She sure looked desirable. There was clear proof; I shifted again in my chair.

At that moment the bill arrived. I got up, alarmed, unsure what to do. Running away made more sense but I knew that would be a blunder. Better option was to act. I gathered myself. Say something like, shit, I forgot my credit card.

Slowly, I opened the bill folder. The stamp of the words ‘PAID’ hit me like a cold shower. “Thanks Leila”

“For what?” She looked confused.

“Sahib, it your friend over there, who had paid for you.” The steward was saying. I turned. Sheila’s eyes met mine. She was smiling. I had never seen such an uninhibited smile on her. She got up, delicately, and came close to us.

I looked at her. Surprise, repent, attraction, a jumble of emotion stitched my mouth. Like a dope, unashamed, I looked at both of them, one by one. They laughed and walked out hand in hand.