Caught Between Page 5

  "I'm sorry, I..." she smiled sheepishly. "It's been a rough couple weeks."

  He grinned. "I can imagine. Would you like to come out with me tonight?"

  Marya said "yes" before he finished his sentence. "Let me just grab my bag."

  She rushed to her room and strapped on her purse. As she walked out, she nearly bumped right into Shannon. "Shannon, will you tell Amy that I've gone out for a bit and not to wait up for me?"

  Shannon frowned. "Sure. Where are you going?"

  "Out," Marya replied as she headed out the door. She was very aware of the curious stares of her hostel mates as she and Ash walked down the hill together to his car, their arms touching. Let them talk. She smiled to herself as she slid into Ash's BMW.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, clicking on her seatbelt.

  Ash didn't bother to put his on. He turned the stereo up and winked at her. "Ready to see some of Amman's night life, Marya?"

  They drove into Amman's wealthy west district, Abdun, where swanky restaurants and nightclubs lined the streets. Ash smiled at Marya's awed expression. "The young generation is restless. We hunger for a Western lifestyle. We are becoming the Middle East's new 'Sin City'."

  After parking the car, Ash led Marya up a set of stairs and into a bar that throbbed with music and lights. Marya's eyes widened as she took in the chic, young clientele -- women in their late teens and early twenties wearing skin-tight jeans, stilettos, and slinky tops; young men like Ash, wearing their money and eyeing the women. And they were all beautiful. Marya self-consciously touched her hair, which had air-dried into a wavy mess. She wore a plain white t-shirt and khaki pants that pooled around her sneakers, and not a drop of makeup.

  Ash pulled out a barstool for her. "I'm way under-dressed," she said to him. "You should have warned me."

  Ash glanced at her clothes and shrugged. "You look beautiful. Natural." He gestured subtly in the direction of the girls, who were shaking their hips to Flo Rida. "They wear too much makeup. It gets to a point... You wonder what they're hiding."

  She took the beer he offered her and smiled. "Thanks. So what have you been doing with yourself since you've been back?"

  He grinned. "This, and more of this." He took a swig of beer. "How about you? Tell me what the dig is like."

  So Marya told him everything. The beer loosened her, and she told Ash about Ducharme the Nun, about her hostel mates, about Yusef. Ash laughed heartily at the story of Yusef and the watermelon, at Marya's recounting of the girls' battles for the 5-minute showers. She didn't, of course, tell him about Luke.

  "Come," he said, patting her leg. "I want to introduce you to some friends."

  He took her into some sort of VIP room, with a red satin couch and low tables. Three young men and two women sat on the couch, drinking and talking. Ash embraced each of them, fake-kissing on both cheeks, European-style, and introduced Marya. "My American girlfriend," he called her, with a smile.

  She listened as they spoke in Arabic, catching only half of what they said. But half was enough for her to ask Ash, "Are you guys talking about Syria?"

  His mouth fell open in surprise. "You speak Arabic?"

  "Only a little," she said. Ash and his friends exchanged looks, and one of the girls, a dark-haired beauty in purple eye shadow named Selwa, shrugged.

  "Tell her," she said. "If you think she will understand."

  Ash looked at his hands for a long while before saying, "Marya, our world is changing quickly. We -- " he swept his hand, indicating his Jordanian friends, "-- are ready for change. We are hungry for it. Jordan may be in a better place than Egypt or Syria, but is still has major problems -- bad economy, corruption, the lack of political freedom. Jordan is not a true constitutional monarchy. It's a sham. We want reform, and we are doing something about it."

  Marya felt her pulse quicken. "What are you doing?"

  "In the beginning, we held peaceful demonstrations, organized as university students," Selwa said in impeccable, if heavily accented, English. "It was a peaceful call for reform, not a revolution, but the police beat us with their batons." Her pretty face was tight with anger.

  "If the monarchy wants revolution," Ash added, looking at Selwa gravely, "they shall have revolution."

  "It hasn't gotten to that point yet," one of the other young men quickly interjected. "We will do what we can in a peaceful manner for as long as we can."

  They continued to talk in this vein, switching from English to Arabic. Marya listened quietly, observing the faces of her new friends. Young, rich, idealistic. Their faces glowed with fervor, and they spoke as though they were ready to throw all their wealth away for a chance at democracy.

  Marya wondered if, when push came to shove and people began dying, they would follow through.

  By the time Ash drove Marya back to ACMER, it was approaching midnight. He stopped the car at the gate and looked at her. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight. I hope you had a good time."

  "I'm going to hurt tomorrow," she said with a laugh, "but it was totally worth it. Thank you for taking me out. Your friends are amazing. You are amazing." She meant it -- she'd seen another side of Ash tonight, and she was impressed. Beneath the designer duds was a passionate young man, perhaps even one of action.

  He was looking at her now, and something in his eyes made her squirm. He must have sensed her discomfort, because he averted his gaze. "So, can I come visit you again soon?"

  Marya nodded. "I would love that. And next time I'll dress more... appropriately."

  "I told you," he said, "you look beautiful. So much so, that I'd like to kiss you." He looked at her and smiled shyly. "That is, if you want me to."

  She did. If only to drive Luke from her brain. If only to see if Ash tasted as good as he smelled. "Yeah," she said softly.

  Ash leaned across the center console and touched her face with his hand, and she leaned in to meet him. His kiss was whisper soft against her lips, soft and warm. He lingered against her, as if debating whether to do more. She could feel his breath on her mouth, could feel his hesitation. In the end, he backed away and swallowed, exhaling slowly. "I'll walk you up," he said.

  He took her hand in his as they climbed the hill in silence. When they reached the door of the hostel, he let go and said, "Night, love. Sleep well."

  She didn't let herself watch him leave. She tossed on her pajamas and curled up in bed, trying not to wonder why Ash liked her, whether she liked him as much, or why Luke still hovered in the back of her thoughts.

  ***

  Heaving the sledgehammer high over his head, Luke blinked the sweat from his eyes. He brought it down -- hard. Pieces of rock splintered off in all directions, and he was relieved to see a crack beginning to split the rock in two.

  "Nice job!" Yusef cried, rubbing his palms together. "My turn."

  Luke was happy to pass the sledgehammer and goggles to the eager Bedouin. He was exhausted. He grabbed his water bottle and collapsed in a corner of the pit with a grunt, a cloud of dirt erupting around him. He drank slowly, relishing the sensation of the cool water running down his throat, sating his thirst. He doused his headcloth in water and used it to wipe his face. His nighttime activities, combined with the early-morning dig, were killing him. He managed to get a couple hours of sleep a night, and if he was lucky, he snuck in a nap between lunch and lab.

  "You okay?" Marya asked. She kneeled beside him, her eyes hidden by her hat. Dirt was smeared across her chin, and she looked adorable. Luke felt an ache in his chest, wishing he could reach out and rub the dirt from her face with his thumb. He imagined the look of shock she would give him if he did. She'd probably bite me. No doubt she had sharp little teeth.

  He forced his thoughts away from her mouth. "Yeah, I'm good," he lied.

  "You should get more sleep," she said, and there was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice.

  He took another swallow of water. "You're probably right."

  She'd been cold to him since he'd caught her followi
ng him. Not that he blamed her -- she could never guess what he was up to, and to her it must have seemed insane that he would want to be completely alone. She probably suspected he was up to no good.

  He tossed the kerchief to the ground. This sucks. What sucked most about it was that he wanted to hang out with Marya. If he had met her under different circumstances... He'd never been much inclined to get serious with a girl, but then, he'd never met a girl he wanted to get serious with. Marya, however, did something to him. He thought about her all the time. Even when he was negotiating for AK-47s with the shady Iraqi in Jabal Al-Natheef, a destitute district in East Amman.

  But now... Now was not the time for him to fall for a girl. God, not now.

  When they got back to ACMER, Ducharme pulled him aside, looking him up and down with concern. "Edward, you haven't been sleeping enough," she said sternly. She knew he went out at night -- how could she not know? But she turned a blind eye because he was a man and her favorite volunteer.

  "I'm sorry, Dr. Ducharme," Luke said, rubbing his face. "I have some friends in town who need my help." Not a complete lie.

  She shook her head briskly. "You can't keep up with the work if you don't get enough sleep. Eat your lunch, then skip lab today. Go straight to bed, do you hear?"

  He grinned at her. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

  Margot Ducharme blushed like a schoolgirl and looked away. "Oh, pish. Don't thank me. Just go."

  He had no problem doing as he was told. After eating his fill of oddly-spiced lasagna -- did Arabs have to put cumin in everything? -- he headed straight back to his room and crashed. He managed to get his boots off, but was fast asleep before his head hit ACMER's sorry excuse for a pillow.

  He awoke to the sound of scraping. In the moonlight, he saw Liz's long legs stretch down from the window above his bed. He shifted, making room for her as she climbed down onto him, a wide smile on her face. "Hey, baby," she murmured, covering his mouth with her own.

  Luke turned his head away, his brain foggy with sleep. "Liz, I'm too tired," he mumbled.

  "Shhh, you don't need to move a muscle," she said, slipping her hand into his pants.

  She'd done this before in the past -- climbed in through his window and had sex with him while he wasn't fully awake. He'd enjoyed it then. But tonight was different. Tonight, he was numb with exhaustion. And Liz is not Marya. He pushed her hand away. "No, Liz. I'm sleeping. You can sleep with me if you want, but that's all we're doing. We're sleeping."

  "Fine," she snapped. He knew she was mad, but he turned to his side and fell back asleep before she could say anything else. When his alarm clock woke him up at four, she was gone.

  7.

  "So Marya," Shannon said loudly, a smirk on her face, "who was the hottie you left with last night?"

  Somehow, Marya knew Shannon would blurt something like this, and she desperately hoped Luke would hear her say it. As it was, however, Luke was absorbed in a discussion with Ducharme and wasn't listening. Marya hid her frustration and pretended to be enraptured with a particularly bland piece of pottery. "Just a friend," she answered in a bored voice.

  "From the States?" Amy asked, nudging Marya with her elbow.

  "No," Shannon insisted. "He was Jordanian, no question. A very rich Jordanian."

  "Where did you meet him?" Amy persisted, this time pushing Marya's shoulder with her hand.

  Marya looked up, feigning annoyance. "It's no big deal. I met him on the plane over here. He gave me the ride from the airport."

  Amy was glaring at her. "Why didn't you tell me a hot Jordanian gave you a ride from the airport? And that you planned on seeing him again?"

  "I honestly didn't know if I'd see him again," Marya admitted. "We didn't exchange numbers or anything. He just showed up."

  "Where did he take you?"

  "Do you like him?"

  Marya chuckled and told them about Abdun and the night clubs, how gorgeous the girls were and how under-dressed she had been. She left out the whole "talk of revolution" thing, of course. It didn't escape her notice that Liz was sitting nearby, appearing to be focused on her work, but no doubt hearing the conversation.

  Two nights later, Ash returned. This time, Marya made him wait as she hurriedly dry shaved her legs, somewhat fixed her hair, and drew on some eyeliner. She slipped into the nicest clothes she'd brought -- a linen skirt and a white fitted tank top -- and returned to the ACMER foyer, where he was waiting. She wasn't surprised to see Shannon and Amy keeping him company, firing question after question at him.

  Ash glanced up, relieved to see her. "Ready?" he asked, standing.

  "Yes," she said, looking quickly around for Luke. He was nowhere to be seen.

  "Have fun," Shannon said with a grin.

  "Hurry before Margot sees you," Amy hissed, waving them away.

  In the car, Ash reached for her hand. "It's good to see you," he said. "What have you been up to?"

  Marya sighed, enjoying the way his palm felt against hers. "Same old stuff. We still haven't found anything in our section. It's frustrating. But on the bright side, a bunch of us are going to Petra this weekend." She smiled brightly. The prospect of seeing the ancient Nabataean city of Petra truly had been the light at the end of the tunnel for her. It was going to be a wonderful break -- especially since neither Luke nor Liz was going.

  "Ah, yes, Petra," Ash said with a smile. "It is magnificent. You will love it."

  He took her to a shisha bar in Abdun, and she met more of his friends. They were all young, mostly well-off, and studying in Europe or the US. They made her laugh with their knowledge of American pop culture and the way they insisted, "We love Americans!"

  She could feel Ash's eyes on her that night, and every time she met them a shiver ran up her spine. There was no question that she was attracted to him. But so many intangible thoughts made her hold back, made her want to run and hide. It wasn't until they sat in his car later that night that she began to try and articulate them.

  As they sat in the steamy silence of the car, Ash stared out the windshield and said, "I don't know how you guys do this in America."

  "Do what?" Marya asked.

  His cheeks grew pink. "This... dating thing. I know American girls are... more willing to..." He ran his hands through his hair, letting out a laugh. "I sound like an idiot."

  Marya smiled. "No, you don't. I think I know what you're trying to say. Yes, American girls are more open to dating guys and all that, but... I'm a little different." She took a deep breath. "My parents are from Syria, and they're very conservative in that respect. I've never dated anyone, never had a boyfriend. It's frustrating, because all of my friends have... experienced a lot, and I'm like a nun or something." She was twisting her skirt in her hands. "But I'm twenty-one, and I've decided I'm done waiting for my parents to approve someone for me. This is the first time I've ever really been on my own. I just want to live, you know?"

  He tilted his head. "I think I do. Look, just... Tell me if I do something you don't like, or if I go too fast. I really like you, Marya. You're a breath of fresh air. A taste of freedom."

  A taste of freedom. Yes, those words were right in so many ways. Her lips met his halfway this time, and there was nothing soft about this kiss. It was a hungry, demanding kiss. It was too quiet; she could hear her heart thumping rapidly, their lips moving together. When he covered her breast with his hand, she broke away.

  He removed his hand, panting. "Too much?" he asked.

  She didn't know how to answer. It hadn't been too much at all, just too much from him.

  "I'm sorry, Marya," he said.

  "No, no," she insisted. "Don't be sorry. I love kissing you. I... just need to think a little."

  "Sure," he agreed. "Whatever you want."

  He took her back to the hostel and made her promise to go out with him before her trip to Petra. She agreed, feeling frustrated by her lack of decisiveness. What the hell is wrong with me?

  The following day, Luke caught Marya completely o
ff guard by asking, "So, who's this mystery man you've been sneaking off with?"

  They were digging with hand trowels in different corners of the pit while Yusef sang some Arabic folk song. She didn't look up, although her heart was pounding. "A friend," she answered cryptically.

  "I hear he's the same guy you got a ride with from the airport."

  "He is," Marya confirmed simply.

  "You shouldn't do that, you know."

  Marya turned to look at him, her eyes flashing. "I shouldn't do what?"

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not some pretty, petite American girl who's hungry for attention -- "

  "Who is hungry for attention?" Marya tightened her grip on the trowel, practically brandishing it at him.

  "Marya, come on. I'm just telling you to be careful."

  "Well, stop," she snarled. "Or so help me God, I will beat you senseless with this trowel and enjoy every second of it." She stood and dropped the trowel to the ground. She couldn't stay in that pit with him another minute. She climbed out and headed for the outhouse. Even the awful stench in there was better than his company.

  "Ah, a lover's quarrel!" Yusef cried gleefully.

  "Shut up, Yusef," Marya snapped as she stormed down the tell.

  The rest of the day was difficult. She had to take orders from Luke since he was her field supervisor, but she refused to look at him. He thought she was hungry for attention. Well, she was twenty-one years old and sheltered her whole life, so no shit she was hungry for male attention. She had a right to be. And if he wasn't going to be the one to give it to her, then he could just mind his own damn business.

  The night before the trip to Petra, Marya went to dinner with Ash. They sat in a corner of the dimly-lit restaurant, enjoying the privacy of their booth. Ash was pensive tonight; Marya could tell that something was on his mind.

  "I'm just concerned that all of our hard work, all of our peaceful protesting, is getting us nowhere," he said softly to her, his brow furrowed. "No one is listening."

  "But Ash," Marya said, "what can you do?"