ZAKARIYA: Hey you awake?
I waited a few minutes before I replied, as was the norm when trying to appear aloof and mysterious, I assumed. Not that I had a norm, exactly. I had never been one to enjoy late-night texting sessions with random boys. There was never anyone I liked enough to bother wasting my time on. The only guy I had really fancied during my university days was a Japanese international student called Kaito, who never looked at me. All I did was look at him though. I used to dress up for the lectures I knew he would be at. Once I had to do a presentation on the case for a co-habitation law reform and I spent days choosing the perfect outfit. Looking back, I now realised that my ‘cute’ outfit wasn’t cute at all (a floral dress over skinny jeans and cardigan) and the thick black kohl that rimmed my eyes was more Marilyn Manson than Cleopatra. He caught my eye once during my whole presentation, as I stumbled and mumbled my way through my argument about how the UK needed to loosen its hold on the traditional institution of marriage. I know now that it didn’t mean anything. I mean, I was at the front of the class talking, he was bound to look at me at some point. At the time though, it meant everything. I spent hours analysing the look he gave me, droning on and on about it to Dina, replaying that moment over and over on a loop. The more I thought about it, the bigger the incident became and I was convinced that it wasn’t a ‘look’, it was a message.
So I did what anyone would. Rather than slide into his Instagram DMs, I threw myself into them with something ridiculous like, ‘Hey! How are you? Fancy finding you here!’
I waited days for him to reply, agonising over what he would say, certain that it would bloom into a romance. I imagined him saying things like, ‘Wow! I’ve been looking for you online for ages!’ Or, if I was really lucky, ‘Maya Rahman, I’ve been waiting for this moment all year.’
His reply came all right. A friendly but completely humiliating, ‘Hey do we know each other?’
I was mortified. The boy I had spent the good part of a semester dreaming about, whom I was convinced beyond doubt was into me too, didn’t even know who I was.
That was the first and last time I approached anyone. Since then, any time I caught the eye of an attractive male, I told myself it was an accident:
MAYA: Hey. I am indeed. What’s up?
Zak’s reply came immediately. He clearly didn’t feel the need to wait a few minutes first – the thought of him sitting there waiting for my reply made my cheeks heat up:
ZAKARIYA: I’ve got some news for you, Ms Scholarship Winner
MAYA: You do? Will it beat being Ms Scholarship Winner?
ZAKARIYA: You can be the judge of that.
MAYA: Well????
ZAKARIYA: I asked my team leader at the charity I volunteer for if you could join us on the Snowdon trek without having to fundraise, since there isn’t much time. They never let people do the fun part without the fundraising part.
MAYA: Oh wow, thanks for trying. What did they say?
ZAK: So soon you’ll be Ms Snowdon Climber as well as Ms Scholarship Winner! 
MAYA: Yay! Thanks so much, can’t wait!!! 
Gulp. I could wait. I had been starving myself for the past month, how was I supposed to climb a mountain so soon? All my energy had been burnt for fuel. I was too weak! I couldn’t admit that to Zak, not after he went out of his way to help me. Besides, the trek was on my sacred list, so I had to do it no matter how tired or scared I was.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘I can’t believe you’re making me do this again,’ Malik mumbled a couple of weeks later as we drove through quiet London streets in the dark, well before sunrise. We were supposed to be at the coach stop by six in the morning and in Snowdonia National Park by 10.00 a.m. The trek was around six hours there and back so we would be back in London by ten that night. It was going to be a long, tiring day, but instead of dreading it, I felt excited. So far, except for Ulysses and the life-drawing class, I hadn’t regretted a single item on Noah’s list. Everything had contributed to bettering my life somehow, whether it was a fun experience, a day out or a makeover; my life was better because of it.
‘As far as I remember, this is the first time I’ve attempted to trek Snowdon,’ I replied blithely, like I didn’t know what he was talking about.
‘Let’s hope you do trek it, instead of realising it’s closed when you get there,’ he said, shooting me a dirty look.
‘I appreciate you taking me and not expecting me to get a cab with a potential rapist at five-thirty in the morning.’
‘The Brother of the Year award goes to me.’
‘It would, if you were a brother who confided in me,’ I said, giving him a sideways glance. ‘When are you going to tell me about this girlfriend of yours? When you’re standing at the altar?’
‘Altar? What are we, born-again Christians?’
‘You know what I mean.’
There was silence as Malik continued to weave through random side roads as he made his way south of the river, which was like crossing county lines for us north Londoners. I expected him to fob me off with another snarky comment and was surprised when he began to talk seriously.