ردّ قلبي

He motioned the car through the narrow street paved by either side with cars sideway-ingly facing the walls to the houses of their owners. He mumbled, practicing his lines and changing the tone to test what way would be best if this were a sales pitch. But he knew it wasn't. Yet he still mumbled and practiced the lines, seeking one that sounded just right.
Picking up his phone from the spotless and never used for what it was intended car ashtray, he dialled in the number of his friend. Six digits through, he decided to knowingly choose to press a "7" instead of a "6" for the last digit before calling because he knew that she was now in possession of this number. He knew so because she was his best friend's younger sister.

Shfeeha 3ad, kelha 'alo ha gowa Wlayyid, alo? Aasif hatha mo ragam Waleed? Ee hala wala Arwa, ana Maitham refeej Waleed. La ma3endi shay daag 3ala hal ragam, bas abee atzawejich ya ekht el ..' he told himself.
The first time Maitham saw Arwa was when he made his way through the gates of Kuwait Airport's arrivals, coming back from Spain after a trip with Waleed. This was seven months ago. And he never saw her ever since.
He told himself that he was blowing her image out of proportion, that he just has this idea, not this girl, in his head because he only saw her once. So he never could be serious about what his head told him when he drove, in the shower, before going to bed, waking up, having dinner, and most importanly, when he spent time with his best friend. Waleed.

But since he spent time with Waleed - a lot of time - he was reassured that "Om Waleed's Household's Alumni" were all graduates of the highest standards. There was a reason why Waleed was Maitham's best friend. And now there was a reason why Maitham could not bear himself being Waleed's best friend.
The car rolled slowly to a stop. Maitham still had the "7" completing the phone number, and not Waleed's "6".
Maitham could swear this was the millionth time he had pressed this "7" in the past five months after knowing from Waleed that this number was now his sister's. Maitham could also swear this was the millionth time - and one - that he has come to his senses and decided not to call the "7" number, but the "6".

Walla o wala tadry 3an hawa daarik, lo betgolaha 'ana Maitham refeej Waleed' betgolek 'o khair ya 6air, taby awage3lek?' he told himself some more.

Maitham questioned the procedure of it all. What does one do when one wants to marry one's best friend's younger sister. Does one talk to one's best friend's mother? Does one let one's mother talks to one's best friend's mother? Does one talk to one's best friend?

Maitham figured that there were a lot of ones there. But he also came to this conclusion:
en kalamt el om, el esbay begolek 'laish ma kalamni ana, mo rayal eb 3aina?', o en kalamt el esbay, begolek 'o shako ent yayni ana, wain ahalek maykalmon ahalha - ely hom ahaly, wela ma tedil bait ahaly ya 7ath ahalek?'
He sometimes questioned if all this confusion was worth it. Banat eldeera ma ekhlesaw, but then again not all banat il deera grew up in the same environment as he knew his best friend did.

He deleted the "7" and inserted a "6" instead, calling the number straight away. Smiling to himself at the thought of actually blurting out a jokingly 'hala yal niseeb, ana ta7at', he looked over at his side view mirror to see the approaching car near his. Waleed picked up as Maitham turned his head to make sure the approaching car could pass between his and the sideway-ingly parked cars facing the walls of the houses of their owners.
"Hala Maithemo, wainek?", came the familiar sound.
"Ta7at," Maitham managed to say as he was stunned at the sight of Arwa in the approaching car, now in front of him waiting for their garage door to open, "enzil ebser3a, o shouf etha waaldetik belbait. Omy tabee etkalemha."
"Inzain ya 7abeeb omik. Dish eldowaneya en6erny 3ala ma anzil, bas latsakir 3ala bab el garage ekhty betrid mn el jaam3a ba3ad shway."