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Back The Wild Ones Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR The Wild Ones
  3. Title Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. The Beginning, or How Paheli Became the First Wild One; With a Cameo by Taraana, the Boy Made of Stars.
  7. An Introduction; Hold On to Your Hats.
  8. The Sweetness in the Sugarcane, or The Impractical Nature of Immortality
  9. Paheli: The Vagrant Experiences of a Mango Addict
  10. Cotton Candy Sugar Screams
  11. From the Book of MEMORIES
  12. “Will You Walk into My Parlor?” Said the Spider to the Fly.
  13. The Best Ice Cream in the World, Teddy Bears, and a Tree Creature.
  14. From the Book of MEMORIES
  15. I.
  16. The Reappearance of the Boy Made of Stars and the Plight of the Girl by the Oleander Lane.
  17. Paheli: An Interlude in Blue
  18. Besieged in the Between
  19. Tea, the City of Stairs, and the Story of a Boy
  20. From the Book of MEMORIES
  21. Heartbreak, Stone Buildings, and Tandoori
  22. Observations, Conversations, and Hot Parantha
  23. Paheli: The Spies Who Came In from the Between
  24. From the Book of MEMORIES
  25. The French Quarter, the Spanish Half, and Eulalie
  26. Paheli: The Eggplant Overture
  27. Sunny Jelly Beans, Po’Boys, and “Alouette”
  28. From the Book of MEMORIES
  29. The Keeper of the Green and the Mysteries of Magic
  30. Blood and the Between
  31. The Library of the Lost and the Stories of the Silenced
  32. Walking in Wicked Ways or The Importance of Balık Ekmek
  33. From the Book of MEMORIES
  34. Looking for the Needle in the Haystack
  35. Paheli: The Peculiar Crackle in the Electricity
  36. Ten Degrees Past Despair
  37. The Fault in the Stars
  38. The Blue City in the Mountains
  39. Paheli: Disharmony in the Attics
  40. From the Book of MEMORIES
  41. Paheli: Continued
  42. The Politics of a Body, the Politics of Pleasure
  43. The Medina, the Riad, and the Red City
  44. Paheli: The Atlas Mountains, the Cozy Rooftop, and the Confession, Possibly of Love
  45. From the Book of MEMORIES
  46. Souks, Spices, and Survival: A Guide into Chaos
  47. Jemaa el-Fna: The Mosque at the End of the World
  48. Paheli: A Moment in Chartreuse
  49. From the Book of MEMORIES
  50. Paheli: On the Frailties of the Heart
  51. Sonagi, or A Sudden Rain
  52. Paheli: The Cheese in the Trap
  53. Paheli: The Maze and the Minotaur
  54. A New Era, a New Dar; the River Sings
  55. The Burning Door, the Fallen City, and Taraana 2.0
  56. Paheli: The Beginning of Forever
  57. From the Book of MEMORIES
  58. Moving One Rock at a Time Will Eventually Move a Mountain, aka Goodbye
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. More from the Author
  61. About the Author

The boy and I stare at each other for a long moment. He is beautiful, so looking at him is no hardship. I notice that he has scars on one side of his face. I have scars too, though mine are all in places not visible to the eye. He is taller than I remember. Slender but solid. He moves with a fluidity that is kin to flowing water.

“I saved myself,” I tell him in lieu of a greeting. I might as well get it over with now. I don’t want any man taking the credit for my fight, for my life. He just opened a door for me; I stepped through that door all by myself. Actually, he didn’t even open that door. He just gave me a key.

The boy’s lips quirk and oh my goodness, he is dazzling. There is something broken about his smile, though. Like his lips aren’t quite at ease with what they’re doing. I know the feeling.

“I am glad you did,” he says. His voice has a bit of the night in it.

“What’s your name?” I can’t keep calling him “boy.” That’s rude. I’m a very polite young-old woman.

“Taraana,” he replies softly, as if he’s telling me a secret. Oh no, I am going to swoon. Wait, no, I am calm. He comes to stand beside Assi, who looks very much like his bodyguard. I bet she makes a good one with those sharp teeth of hers. Actually, all the middle worlders accompanying Assi and Taraana look like they could hold their own in a fight. One that doesn’t include screams. We could totally beat them.

“My name is Paheli,” I say brightly, keeping a smile on my face. “Starting from the right are: Widad, Daraja, Kamboja, Areum, Talei, Valentina, Etsuko, Sevda, Ghufran, and Ligaya. Collectively, we are known as the Wild Ones.…” He listens with rapt attention. It’s embarrassing. I clear my throat. “Thank you for the stars. You gave a chance to escape not just to me but to all my sisters. We owe you something. Ice cream?”

Something like wonder slips into the boy’s—sorry, Taraana’s—face as he looks at all of us once again and stays for a second before fading. He doesn’t seem to know how to respond to my gratitude. For some reason, this makes me like him more. But that’s not important at this moment. I narrow my eyes. What if the reason he called us here is because he wants his stars back?