I walked with Jose to the cafe instead of driving because my car was in the shop and he insisted that he could not drive his. He held my hand and squeezed it. I looked at him and smiled. When I was with him I felt safe and protected, but I wished he was a Christian. We shared different views about religion. He told me his mother was a Christian and his father was atheistic. He told me he had a pretty sad childhood, and I felt bad listening to it. My childhood was so happy and sprightly. In the cafe, we argued about politics. He was so intelligent. Just then, my friends Tina and Maryah walked in the cafe and saw me. Crap. “Hey Malika! How are you? Jose… hi.” Tina uttered. Maryah had turned her face. “What the hell do you want?” Jose said coldly. “We were just talking about you.” Maryah said to me, ignoring Jose. Jose grabbed my hand and violently squeezed it, twisting his face in that sardonic way. I gasped quietly. “Really?” I choked up. Jose was getting angry. He doesn’t like Tina and Maryah.