THE DEGREE OF HAPPINESS

22

Jida looked at me sadly, shaking her head.

"Sad reality of the world," I said, placing the glass of water down without taking a sip, "We can't stay still. We have to run no matter what all the motivational speakers say. Even writers, those who claim that they are doing this for happiness, have to write the next best book or else their career suffers. They might not even enjoy what they're writing."

She gave a small smile, "You are just like Soroush. Only, he uses manga writers in his example. Do you like books?"

"Very much," I replied. 

She shrugged, "Well, opinions vary from person to person. You will not find my words to use but in the future, you will. In Sha Allah."

She took a plate and placed a couple of chocolate cupcakes over it.

"Go to Soroush with these cupcakes," said Jida, "This should cheer him up."

"Oh," I said, taking the tray, "Is it right for me to disturb him?"

"He will practically murder me if I don't let you see him," she said with a laugh, "He is rather fond of you."

"Oh," I said, looking down at the cupcakes, "Right. I will go see him, then."

I knocked on his door. Jida settled down on the couch and turned on the television.

"Boss, please. Not right...."

"It's me," I said, softly, "Elizha."

Soroush opened the door. He was a slight mess; unbrushed hair, pen marks all over his hands and arms, wearing a gray My Hero Academia T-shirt and red shorts.

"Oh," he said. Then his eyes looked at the cupcakes in my hand and he grinned, "You fulfilled your promise. Jazakallah, your highness."

Your highness, he said in English. The rest was all Arabic.

I nodded, "Yeah. And, I heard about your test result. I really am sorry about...."

"Oh, that. That's nothing," he said, giving a small laugh. "It's just a stupid test."

Jida snorted, "That's what I said to you a couple of hours ago. You did not take that well."

Soroush bit his lip, looking down at me.

I giggled.

"Well, I had time to reflect on my actions," he said. "Sit on the couch, Elizha. I have something for you."

"Er, okay?" I said. I sat on the couch and placed the plate of cupcakes on the table.

He closed the door and came with a gold foiled gift bag.

"Happy birthday!" he said.

I looked back at Jida, who had gone back to the kitchen.

"Oh, but it is not my birthday," I said.

"I know. Yours is on February twenty ninth. Unlucky girl, you are. A day later, and you would've gotten the entire gift shop. Nevertheless, I got you a gift for your twelfth and sixteenth birthday. I already gave you your fourth and eighth birthday gift years ago."

"Two packs of skittles," I replied.

"It was all I could afford," he said with a shrug, "Open the gift."

I took the bag and took the first content. 

It was a pink denim messenger bag with white straps. Stars and butterflies and flowers were stitched onto the bag with my name and birth date written on the flap.

"Remember auntie Sauda?" he asked, "She stitches a bag for every child in the locality when they turned twelve."

"Yeah," I said, laughing, "I was sad on my twelfth birthday because I didn't have this bag."