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Three days later, Nabila and I sat inside the Starbucks located inside the Carleton campus library, and spent the next three hours talking about everything from campus politics to sports, and of course, feminism and Islam. I found her charming and friendly, and not at all the religious hardball I'd previously imagined. Oh, and I should mention, Nabila looked smoking hot in a red shirt featuring Montreal Canadiens defenceman P.K. Subban, black jeans and boots, with a dark gray hijab.

"You're not at all what I expected, I'd never figure you for a Montreal Canadiens fan," I said, laughing, and Nabila flashed me that fearless smile of hers, and I found myself thinking about how cute she looked, and I noticed her full lips, and the tawny tone of her skin, and her lively, golden brown eyes gaze at me with an intensity that I found, well, almost unbearable. In a good way, though.

"See, Christina, I was born in Yemen but raised in Canada, I love this country, but I can't turn my back on my culture or my Islamic faith," Nabila said, and for some reason, her voice trembled slightly. Out of concern, I gently laid my hand on hers, and Nabila looked at me, and suddenly I was worried that I might have crossed the line, and as I tried to mumble an apology, Nabila smiled and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Nabila, my pops is from the Caribbean, people are kind of touchy in his culture," I said, by way of apology, and Nabila grinned, and then laid her hand on mine, and looked into my eyes. My heart skipped a beat, and I pursed my lips, and Nabila slowly nodded, answering a question I never voiced, and a fierce joy soared through me.

"Yes I am, yes, and um, I don't mind touching," Nabila said slyly, and I found myself smiling from ear to ear. Nabila and I were in a crowded Starbucks around lunchtime, but I swear, it felt like we were the only people in there. I smiled at her and she smiled at me, and that's when I knew that I'd met the woman destined to change my life. We were as different as can be, but fuck it, that's okay.

"Well, you're full of surprises, Nabila, I'd certainly like to get to know you better," I said to her, trying my best to display my trademark fearlessness, even though inside, I was melting. Nabila smiled at me, and her face drew closer to mine, and she slowly let out her breath, and we were so close that I could smell her mint, but we did not kiss. The damn teaser brought her face inches from mine, and she smiled with mischief, and then casually shrugged.

"Cool," Nabila said, and I smiled and nodded. A couple days later, we went to see the Johnny Depp movie Black Mass at the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa. The movie was alright, but to tell you the truth, don't ask me much about it because I wasn't paying attention. Not with a smoking hot Nabila sitting next to me, clad in a black turtleneck shirt, black hijab, and a black leather miniskirt with black yoga pants underneath and black leather boots. Hmmm, I'm starting to think Miss Yemen here has a leather fetish. That's hot!

After the movie, Nabila and I went to grab a bite at the nearby Blair Mall, and then went for a walk. Nabila was something else, folks. A feisty gal from the City of Dhamar, Yemen who was raised in the City of Montreal, my mother's hometown, and moved to the City of Ottawa to study bio-engineering at Carleton University. A cutie, a smarty pants and a cultural crusader, pardon the pun, all rolled into one hot little package. I am starting to like this gal.

"Damn you're beautiful," I said bluntly, and across the table, Nabila smiled then sipped on her Pepsi. I looked at her, and found myself positively enthralled by this beautiful, friendly yet mysterious young woman. I had never met anyone like Nabila before, and it didn't have anything to do with the fact that she was from Yemen, or a Muslim, and everything to do with the fact that she was beautiful, unique and fearless. A rather unforgettable person.

"Right back at you," Nabila whispered, and then, surprising the hell out of me, Nabila leaned closer,

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