The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Volleys

I dropped mum off at the airport the following afternoon. She was fine, back to her usual self within the hour and telling me off for forgetting the pasta bake in the oven. That doesn't mean I didn't apologise. I did- whenever a silence threatened to loom between us, which wasn't often with mum always chatting, but often enough for her to tell me to 'quit it'. Mum's the worst person to deal with emotions. She won't let them bother her, and she doesn't bother with them. She keeps everything to herself I guess, and prefers it when everyone does the same.

Things were alright with mum when I saw her off, but I felt bad nonetheless. I crossed a line I should've steered clear from and spilt words I should've swallowed whole. Put simply, I did something I shouldn't have and if it wasn't mum on the receiving end, I don't think I'd be forgiven. And that's not because mum's understanding- we didn't talk about my outburst- it's more to do with the fact that she thinks of me more as a friend than a daughter, and well friends fight, and that's okay.

That was a week ago, My guilt has slowly started to fade, however I'm still filled with fear- anxiousness at bumping into Noah. I haven't seen him, or more truthfully, I've been avoiding him. All I wanted him to know I said on the balcony, but I'm certain he found out more from my outburst, than I had ever intended to let him know- to let anyone know.

I had managed for so long to keep it to myself, the one thing stopping me from truly being an outcast, and I lost it. And of all the people I would've preferred to know, had I had a choice, it definitely would not have been Noah. The guy with the perfect family, the childhood friends, the looks, the mannerisms and now deen. The guy with the practically perfect life- who would have believed my life was just as great until I revealed my own flaw.

I'm almost a hundred percent sure he thinks I'm a hypocrite- preaching about Islam and what's halal and what's not, when I myself am a product of zina. A bastard who's parents aren't even married, don't share the same religion and have fallen out of love twenty years ago. Twenty years ago when they mistakenly had me. I don't blame myself for their relationship, I didn't tell them to do what they did, but sometimes I can't help but think I'm their lesson- that I am their permanent punishment they can't escape from.

My jaw tenses at the thought and so I push the topic away from my mind and hitch my backpack higher on my back as I make my way off campus. I stare at my feet as students pass me by, my sandals slapping against the pavement as my toes catch up on a long lost tan. The weather's nice- officially spring now- but my mood is the equivalent of a mid winters day- dreary and depressing.

Looking up as more students pass me by in a hurry to leave for the week, I notice Noah's familiar figure, standing  on the footpath- hands in the pockets of his all too familiar cargo shorts, and volleys kicking at twigs covering the ground. As I approach he notices me and completes the few steps between us, stopping with only a step to go.

"Hey." He says, balancing between his heels and toes, with a small smile.

"Hi." I reply, as I try to maintain my composure- as I try to pretend everything is fine.

"I thought you finished at four, did you have an extra class?" He takes a small step back and I take one forward as we fall in step to walk back to our apartments.

"You were there for an hour?" my tone is laced with surprise, but the thoughtful gesture pains my heart.

"Weather's nice, I didn't mind." I don't have to look at him to know he's smiling- at least subtly.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." I let it rest at that, not wanting to mention he really 'shouldn't have', and causing an argument on the street.

We walk quietly, just in the company of each other, not keeping each other company as we had done when we first met and when we first walked to and from Uni together. I don't speak, because I'm nervous. I want to know if he's made up his mind or if he really did here my talk with mum, and if he did, what he thinks of it- of me.

"Your mum left, right?" He looks to my side as I nod, feeling bile file my gut as the conversation creeps up on me. I expect him to say 'I heard' or 'about that day', but he doesn't; he nods in return and turns to look ahead.

"How's your reading going?" I ask in attempt to break the silence, to restore some normality.

"Not bad." He looks at me quickly then turns away.

"Cool." The word slips casually from my tongue and when Noah hears it he smiles widely.

"I've rubbed off on you." He bumps his shoulder with mine, and despite the contact, I shrug.

"I guess." My smile forms on it's own accord as I focus on my sandals.

"It's good to know you don't think I'm a complete screw up." My heart sinks just a little.

"No, I don't."

"What I said that day was stuffed up-"

"You were honest."

"You caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting to have that talk so soon- or at all." The last part was more of a personal comment that I'm sure I wasn't meant to hear, but I did, and it was like another plunge deeper for my heart. "Do you want to meet up on the balconies later?" He asks abruptly. "Not like a date, like we used to." He quickly adds, and my heartbeat falters a bit. "C'mon, like old times. This weather deserves to be celebrated." He extends his arms to emphasize our surroundings and reluctantly, I find myself nodding.

"Cool."

"Cool."

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This one's short guys, I'm sorry, but the next one should be longer and hopefully more interesting. This chapter was more or less used to set the mood of Hana's feelings and mentality right now. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll probably do a double update to make up for it, so keep checking your notifications for a cheeky update ;) Also, I think only three or four chapters left! I'm actually getting emotional about it. Thank you so much for your support guys, you've all been so lovely and reading your comments genuinely makes my day everyday.

Vote, comment, share- let me know what you think! :)