Dear Terrorists,

Chapter 12

"Jennie?" asked Amira. "What are you wearing for your first day of class tomorrow?"

"Uh," delayed Jennie. "I haven't really thought about that. Probably jeans and a t-shirt, I guess."

"Ugh, I'm so nervous for tomorrow!" shrieked Amira in excitement. "I think I'm going to sit next to the most handsome man I see in all of my classes."

"Whatever gets you to class!" laughed Jennie.

"I'm serious, though. I want to meet an American man."

"Well," interjected Jennie with a smirk. "If you happen to meet two boys tomorrow you have to introduce one of them to me."

"Deal," she concurred with a confident nod and smile.

"Back home, men don't appreciate a woman. Here in America, men love women, and they're not afraid to show it."

"I guess so," pondered Jennie, reluctant to agree with her roommate. "But you have to be careful with American boys. Most of them, like 99.9% of them, just want to get into your pants as quickly and as cheaply as possible. You have to be careful, especially with college parties and stuff."

"They can get into my pants as much as they would like!" enthused Amira, biting her bottom lip to conceal her dashing smile.

"Amira!" retaliated Jennie, now embarrassed and blushing beet red.

"What?" she asked with surprise. "American men are much better than Iraqis. Iraqi men have no restrictions—they do as they please whenever and wherever they please to do it. Here in America, men restrict what they want to say and, instead, they say what I would like to hear."

"Is that any better?" hesitated Jennie with a mild laugh of disbelief.

"Well, of course it is!" laughed Amira. "American men are much more respectful of women. And some are much better looking, too! I'll have a boyfriend by the end of the week—you just wait—I might even have two! And then you can my other one."

"Well, thanks," quivered Jennie, now unsure of her roommate.

"You just don't know how well you have it in America," stated Amira as she plopped onto her bed, overwhelmed with making a decision on an outfit for the next day.

"I guess so," said Jennie before she sat in silence, thinking about what life could be like elsewhere around the world.

Amira remained motionless, her legs dangling over the side of her twin bed, staring up at the ceiling with her arms sprawled over her entire bed.

"What was life like in Iraq, anyways?" asked Jennie, finally breaking the silence.

"It could have been worse," responded Amira after remaining quiet for some time. "I mean, it was bad enough that I wanted to leave, and that is why I'm here."

"Do you think you'll ever go back?"

"I don't know," she answered as she continued to stare up at the ceiling. "My plan was to get them to move here after I graduated. But you never really know what the future holds. Maybe after I graduate I'll want to return and try to improve my country. Maybe I'll say 'screw it' and move my family here like I had planned all along!"

"I'm sure you'll have changed your mind and thought it through and made the best decision by then. What made it so bad in Iraq?"

"Everything," she replied with haste. "Absolutely everything."

"Were you not allowed to do anything? Like, why do you hate it so much?" asked Jennie, carefully asking questions as to not encroach or anger Amira.