The Badboy, the Catfish & Me

Eighteen

Mama was already waiting with a takeout lunch of kebabs and naan and a homemade dessert of brownies for the three of us. Over a crowded kitchen island, we talked over our food about building a flower garden for the front yard and buying bug sprays so we could enjoy sitting on the back porch of our fenced backyard. We had this talk every year because the backyard would get untidy from disuse in the winter.

With a full stomach, I chose out a few plants and left the rest to them to figure out while I went to my room. I found a text from Salah waiting for me.

👑 Queen Salah 👑: Hey, what are you doing?

I replied, Nothing, just finished up a meal. What's up?

Instead of replying, Salah called. I lifted the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"What's up? Plumber do a bad job?"

"Nah, that's all fine. But...uh...thanks for the ride today. It was really nice of you and your dad," she said, but her tone wasn't as cheery and loud as it usually was.

"Yeah, no problem!" When Salah didn't say anything, I got a little nervous. What was it? Did she find out who Valentino was going to prom with? I then repeated, "So, what's up?"

"Inaya...I don't know how to tell you this. But you're one of my closest friends, and it's only fair... ugh, I just have to tell you."

"Yeah?" I held my phone tight in worry. Salah was usually straightforward. "Is something going on? Honestly, I kinda noticed it. You've been acting weird since getting in the car."

"Look, Inaya, I could be wrong," Salah's voice was unusually soft and kind like she was in a social work position. "But when I got into your dad's car, I thought the smell of it was familiar. But it was not in a good way. And today, when I got home, I realized exactly what it was. My apartment lobby smells like this sometimes, and my mom complains about how nauseating it is every time and that we should move." Salah paused and I didn't know what to say. "Inaya," she finally started again. "Some of my neighbors smoke weed, and some of them even offered to sell those drugs to me a few times...but that's what your car smelled like."

I opened my mouth to defend my dad's honor but then closed it—because what Salah said would explain how the weird smell in the car started after the random visit to an unheard-of deli and why he got overly conscious about sins and Mama loving him. She told me he used to have bad habits.

"I'm really sorry I had to be the one to say it. Technically, your dad's not breaking the law since it isn't illegal, and he's obviously not doing it around you, but...."

"But it's haram regardless," I finished for her. I swallowed hard at the sudden lump in my throat. "Thanks, I have to go now."

"Okay, bye, Inaya. Sorry."

"Bye."

I dropped the phone onto the bed, and my shoulders sank. There was a creeping coldness in my chest the more I thought about what Salah had said. My dad did drugs? No...there had to be another explanation for the smell in the car. But what if there wasn't? My heart was already breaking at the real possibility of it.

I couldn't go to Mama about this, and definitely not the culprit himself. I reached for my phone again to call Aunt Naomi. She must know about what those habits my baba had. How long did he have it? I waited until it went to voicemail.

On the verge of tears, I heaved myself off the bed, sat in front of my computer, and stared at the blank screen. My mind was in a daze. The welcome page of CrusadEon Online blinked on the screen.