"There was a wedding scene near the end. The captain had relented and let Alyona marry the first mate. The newlyweds were smiling at each other. Everyone was drinking vodka.
"I'm never getting married," Tariq whispered.
"Me neither," said Laila, but not before a moment of nervous hesitation. She worried that her voice had betrayed her disappoinntment at what he had said. Her heart galloping, she added, more forcefully this time,:
"Never".
"Weddings are stupid."
"All the fuss."
"All the money spent."
"For what?"
"For clothes you'll never wear again."
"Ha!"
"If I ever do get married," Tariq said, "they'll have to make room for three on the wedding stage. Me, the bride, and the guy holding the gun to my head."
The man in the front row gave them another admonishing look.
On the screen, Alyona and her new husband locked lips.
Watching the kiss, Laila felt strangely conspicuous all at once. She became intensely aware of her heart thumping, of the blood thudding in her ears, of the shape of Tariq beside her, tightening up, becomming still. The kiss dragged on. It seemed of utmost urgency to Laila, suddenly, that she not stir or make a noise. She sensed that Tariq was observing her - one eye on the kiss, the other on her - as she was observing him. Was he listening to the air whooshing in and out of her nose, she wondered, waiting for a subtle faltering, a revealing irregularity, that would betray her thoughts?
And what would it be like to kiss him, to feel the fuzzy hair above his lip tickling her own lips?
Then Tariq shifted uncomfortably in his seat. In a strained voice, he said "Did you know that if you fling snot in Siberia, it's a green icicle before it hits the ground?"
They both laughed, but briefly, nervously, this time. And when the film ended and they stepped outside, Laila was relieved to see that the sky has dimmed, that she wouldn't have to meet Tariq's eyes in the bright daylight."
(Khaled Hosseini, 'A Thousand Splendid Suns')
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