Various One-Shots from 'Confessions of a Muslim Girl'

A Birthday Present for a Friend -- DP & COAMG Collaboration

Happy birthday, PurityInMyHeart! I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote. My birthday present to you.

This is also for all the faithful Confessions of a Muslim Girl and Diamonds & Pearls readers. Thank you, everyone. All of my love, and without further ado...COLLAB TIME!

          Dancing Zorbas is a quiet Greek restaurant located in Zone 21, a section of Riverside, Connecticut reserved for fun, socializing, and having a good time. Dancing Zorbas had a hostess, a slightly crazy hostess, who, tonight, pulled off the craziest scheme in the history of Dancing Zorbas (allhamdulillah).

          As the time passed and the afternoon rush died down and the evening rush began, she smiled and seated excited diners while fiddling with her nametag that said ‘Ash’ on it, the only sign that she was nervous.

          “If that stupid boy doesn’t get here on time, I’m going to hunt him down and drag him over here.” She muttered to herself. After all, she had made him. She had created his life in her head and recorded it on paper. And no, she was not crazy.

          At 8:05 PM, a tall boy with jet black hair and brown eyes with hints of green in them rushed into the tiny restaurant. His khakis were perfectly pressed, a contrast with the haphazard way his shirt was buttoned and his tie that was hurriedly slung around his neck.

          “I’m late, right? God, I’m so sorry. But why am I here anyway?” The boy rushed out. Ash sighed in relief and mentally put her agitation on the back burner, for now.

          “You got the note?”

          “Yeah. I don’t know how you guys tracked that carving I made in the back booth when I was nine back to me. Seriously.” The boy sighed and ran his hand through his thick black hair that was slightly too long now and dipped over his forehead.

          “Oh. Yeah. About that.” A woman with a hijab got out of a car and made her way over to the door of Dancing Zorbas. Ash’s heart leaped, then quieted down a little when she realized the Muslim woman was not the one she had sent the other note to.

          “Ok, Zakariya. Come to the back room with me.” Ash led Zakariya to the backroom, not caring for his protests. She reached the dark wood door and held it open for Zakariya.

          “I’m sorry ma’am, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to be in this—” Ash, with a roll of her eyes, shoved Zakariya into the room. He’d recognize her soon enough.

          “Wait, what? Ma’am, I’m sorry but—wait a minute. Are you…” Zakariya looked at her nametag. “Ash? What the hell are you doing here? I thought pulling me out of my world and into yours for interviews was the limit! What the heck are you doing here?”

          Ash sighed in frustration. Why, oh why, did she make this boy so stubborn? “Zakariya, tonight is a friend of mine’s birthday. That’s why you are here. To make her day. Hopefully.”

          “Is this friend a girl?’

          “No, she’s a beautiful young woman. So you guys are going to have dinner together.” Ash grinned brightly at Zakariya; her expression soured when she heard his protests.

          “Ash, you of all people should know that this is haram! What the heck was going through your mind?”

          “Zakariya, she is real. You are not. So it’s halal.”