Chapter 14 - The Truth Hurts

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Chapter Fourteen - The Truth Hurts

Zayn Fayad walked into the kitchen with a satisfied smile plastered on his face. Khalid had been staring out the window, ignoring his food. His father sat in front of him, and twelve year old Khalid had nearly burst a vein trying not to make eye contact with the gruff man eyeing him from across the table.

And then Zayn walked in.

He sat down, flashed a smile at his mother and slapped his report card on the table. Khalid bit the inside of his cheek and stared at the smooth white envelope that held his brothers success.

"Salaam dad, mom." Zayn greeted his parents, "got my report card today. Take a look."

His father reached for it, his hand steady, his face calm because he knew his first son would never disappoint him. Khalid slid down his chair, blinking back tears as he watched his father scan his eyes over the report, his smile growing wider.

"Ya, Zayn." His dad boomed. "Straight A's once again! Masha'Allah!"

Zayn grinned and dug into his food, looking at his mother and asking her through a mouthful of rice if he could finally buy that new game console. His mother answered yes, of course anything for her dear Zayn.

Khalid's father turned to him and Khalid gulped. 

"Taibwhere's yours, boy?"

Khalid muttered, something under his breath.

"Speak up!" His father thundered.

"I...left it at school." Khalid choked out.

His father sat back, his face hard. "You're lying."

Of course he was. But he wasn't about to dig up his report card and show his father his C's and D's. It was hidden under his mattress, half ripped up and crumpled because Khalid knew. He knew what was about to happen. He knew his father would stare him down and spite him and then right after he praised his beloved son's straight A report card, he would turn to his failure of a second son and ask for his.

And what would Khalid do? What he did every year. Lie.

"N-no." Khalid cried. "Its there! I totally forgot it, dad. I'll bring it to you on Monday-"

His father's hand came down on the kitchen table. Everyone flinched as the sound vibrated through their eardrums. With a hiss, his dad leaned across the table, putting his face in front of his.

"You think I want to see your goddamn report? You think its different this year?" He growled.

"Why did you ask for it then?" Khalid mumbled, anger surging through him. 

"Why cant you be more like Zayn?" His father went on, as if he hadn't said anything. "Why cant you get good grades and pray and be like Zayn?" 

Khalid sent a venomous glare at his brother. It was always about him. About Zayn this and Zayn that. About Zayn and how he was so freaking perfect. Zayn stared back, his eyes wide. He slowly shook his head as if he was silently disagreeing with Khalid's thoughts. Khalid would never forget that pleading look in his eyes.

He got up, suddenly livid. He would show them. He would show Zayn. He sprinted to his room - a room he shared with his brother - and slammed the door. The walls vibrated as he stalked up to his brother's side of the room. He swept his hands through his things, pulling and pushing. Throwing and kicking. Until the room was a mess and the chaos surrounded him. He kicked a gleaming trophy and watched, with a dull ache, as it slammed into the wall. 

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