The Loophole by Naz Kutub

Author:Naz Kutub
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

Chapter Thirty-Three

Adrenaline boils inside me. The only person I can truly trust, the one I’m desperately running with, is the last person I’d ever expect to have my back. I don’t even know what’s happening behind us as we escape the uproar—and I definitely hope Vishnu and Saleem make it out okay—but Reggie’s hugging her pink-and-green tote tight, her denim jacket flapping away, both of us fighting for breath. It’s pretty obvious neither of us is fit enough to survive if we’re caught.

More police SUVs siren past us as we slow down.

“That worked marvelously, didn’t it?” Reggie says with a wince and a hand clutching her side. “Boy, your new friends packed a jolly good punch with them.”

I can’t help but glance over my shoulder every five seconds. “So it worked, you think?”

She scans the signs on the street, then points left. “I told you we needed a distraction.”

“A distraction is flashing your boobs at a police officer. That was large-scale mayhem.”

“Mayhem. I like that. Maybe I’ll make it my middle name. Reggie Mayhem Watson.”

“Argh. Now the police are probably looking for us, and I’m in a foreign land, and I’m going to get arrested once they ID me as the one who started all this, and I really don’t want to go to jail.”

Reggie rolls her eyes. “The Oscars called. They want to give you the lifetime achievement drama-queen award. Listen, you eenie meenie whiny mo. Nothing’s going to happen to you or me. No one saw us, and we can easily point the finger elsewhere. Temporary insanity or something. I hear that works very well in American courtroom dramas.”

“That’s not real life, and we’re not in America! We’re in the UK. Or Great Britain, or the United Kingdom of Great Britain? Whatever! Listen, Reggie. I can’t get in trouble. This is too much. I thought all we needed to do was find Farouk, and then we could take him home with us.”

“Precisely. That’s precisely what we’re going to do, or as they say in France—précisément. Or is that exactement?” She continues to navigate the street, always keeping the river to our left.

“I can’t believe I did that. Why did I do that? There’s, like, so much energy coursing through me, like my veins are on fire or something. Is that why you aren’t afraid of anything? Because you like living on the edge?”

We’re down to a smooth stroll. “What’s the point of living if you don’t drink enough, eat enough, cause some racial tension enough?” Reggie asks. “This life is dull if you just sit by the sidelines, waiting for others to play the game, and all you do is cheer for them once they score a goal. Why not take a chance and see what can happen if you let go of some of that fear? Why not strip and run naked across the field for everyone to see? I learned long ago that you won’t get anything playing it safe.”

“Let go of my fear?” I scoff. “I don’t think it’s wrong to be afraid of going to prison.

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