Good Kid-Bad Kid[COMPLETED]

Chapter 2 (Laila)

A/N: New Forest is a made up city. Also I'm so sorry I've switched around chapters and all but this is going to be a final change! Hope y'all enjoy it!

I tried very hard not to look out of the window as the van sped across the boundaries of New Forest. I could already feel the hugeness of the city bearing down on me, the tall buildings constantly casting the roads in shadow.

I sighed in resentment. I wanted the sun. I wanted our little old house back home. I wanted my cat Apollo we'd had to give away before moving out. Most of all I wanted to continue education at my school and with my best friend, Latifa, who had by now no doubt sent me a ten thousand word email. The thought almost made me smile, but Mama was sitting next to me, and I had made it very clear how annoyed I was at having to move without a word of explanation.

I'd come home a week ago to find a tonne of cardboard boxes and suitcases steadily being filled with our belongings and Mama saying in a tired voice, "start packing, Laila, we have to leave", and after that my questions were met with silence or vague round about answers which weren't really answers.

Finally the van pulled onto gravelly area and Mama clasped my hand tightly, "look Laila! We are finally here alhamdulillah"
I tried not to rudely jerk my head and stomp out of the car, instead focusing intensely to not annoy my tired mom before we even got to our new home. She'd annoyed me greatly but she was my mom after all, and I hated to argue with her.

Our new home was the top floor of a small red brick three story apartment building. Stairs ran across the walls and large identical windows signaled each floor. There were plants and the roots of a tree spreading across the face of the building with flowers in full bloom. I noticed for some reason our window ledge was painted pink. The place seemed cute from the outside, but I couldn't help but feel a heart wrenching pain remembering our place back home. The van rental guy helped us unload our stuff, my mom paid him and he left.
"Come Laila" Mama gestured at our boxes and suitcases, "help me?"
I forced a bout of enthusiasm, "of course Mama!"

When Mama first unlocked the door of our apartment, murmuring a quick "bismillah" and dua under her breath, I had to say I was slightly impressed. Very slightly.

Sun light streamed inside from seemingly every where, falling across the wood paneled floor and walls. There was decent furniture, old but strong, covered mostly with white sheets, and there was even a small empty shelf for books. The kitchen was not separate from the living room but from there a door lead off to the rest of the apartment. I set my boxes down and immediately stepped through it, wondering what the rest of the place looked like. There were two doors along one side of the wall and two more on the other. They turned out to be two bedrooms, a small bathroom and a large cupboard. I picked the smaller of the two rooms to become mine, because I knew Mama liked spaciousness and also perhaps because I'd noted there was more window in
the one I'd chosen.
I sighed and walked back out to the kitchen where Mama was just closing the door with the last of our belongings through the door. She looked back at me and gave me a small sad smile.
"Home sweet home" I said, smiling back even though I was so far from my real home it hurt. I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep somewhere and forget about where I was, but firstly I needed to know why we'd gone to all this trouble. It seemed Mama knew exactly what we were thinking because she leaned on the counter and observed me quietly, as though wondering how best to begin.

My mother was a tall, beautiful woman. She had the golden-white skin, light brown eyes and full lips. She was from northern India but spoke Urdu more fluently since her father had married a Pakistani. Although lines of age and tiredness were carved on her face she still looked very beautiful. I on the other hand was a head shorter, thin and much less attractive. I had slightly darker skin, more golden then fair, dark eyebrows and lashes, and a permanently serious expression on my face. Latifa always joked that I walked around looking like I hated everyone which was true half the time, but I didn't often realize I looked that way. I'd long since given up on trying to be pretty. I usually just looped my hijab around my head, pulled around the loose ends so they'd look normal and my wardrobe consisted of zero dresses and mostly football shirts, sneakers and boots, and those fat pant type track suits. That was another thing about me- I loved soccer. A lot. And if I could allow myself a little smugness, I'd say I wasn't too bad.

"Laila..." Mama began, snapping me out of my reverie, "I can't give you the complete answer to your question, but I can try give you parts- wait-listen to me first" she said as I opened my mouth to protest. Switching to Urdu she continued, "you know, there are some secrets which are not yours to tell, and some that have a right time. We moved here because someone came to town looking for you. Someone from...your father's side" she paused, looking at me for any reaction. My father was Egyptian and that was the only thing I knew about him, aside from the fact he was in the "wrong crowd". When I did nothing other then stare at her she continued, "you know how hard I've worked to keep that man away from us, from ruining our lives again don't you Laila? I am not going to stop now. The person who came looking for us didn't reach us- I told them to come back at night, before which we left. But you ought to know, why New Forest.
"It was the place where I met your father. Listen" she said sternly at my outraged and bewildered expression, "I don't think he'll ever dream we would come back here, so it is the perfect place. I'm sorry Laila, that you must leave everything behind once again, but I swear once you turn 18 everything will be okay and we'll go wherever you want. It's just a matter of one year my love, it looks long right now but you'll be surprised at how fast time flies"
She stopped then, inhaling deeply, and waiting for my reply.
I swallowed trying not to scream and settled for the quiet deadly tone, "it's okay mama" I said finally but then venom coursed through my heart and I had to add, "it's not your fault. It's Baba's."

***

Our first week in New Forest passed like a breeze. We cleaned away the dust and cobwebs in our new apartment, rearranged furniture to our liking and set up the rooms. Mama hung up ornaments and art work from India, making sure the house looked as traditional as possible, and cooked chicken korma (my favorite) on our fourth day.
We also introduced ourselves to the other inhabitants of the three story building. On ground floor lived a lovely old couple; Mr and Mrs White, who were really nice and friendly. They also had two cats- Jhonno, large ginger Garfield like and Christie, a white and tabby Persian cat.
On the second floor lived this artist guy. He was probably in his early thirties; average height, leaning toward plump with kind brown eyes. The part of his apartment I could see through the door frame was covered in canvases and platters of paint. He was super nice too, and pretty excited to meet us because he'd gone to India last summer.
Needless to say, I had really cool neighbors.

Mama did not forget I was supposed to attend school. She browsed up the High School's in the area and the closest and most decent was none other than New Forest high school. We filled in the applications and I was due to start attending from the next week.

To be honest here, I was actually very nervous about going to a new school. I knew very well what it was like for a new kid to come in, especially in senior year. At my old school, we weren't usually that friendly toward new kids who didn't make an effort to assimilate themselves into our groups. I wasn't one of those confident newbies who knew her way with people.
In fact the fear of starting school got me up for Tahajjud every morning until school, praying for good start. There's something really special about Tahajjud. It's so quiet and calm and peaceful, you can concentrate on your Salah very well. I wasn't as religious as I should be, but I was determined to do the right thing if I wanted Allah's help.

At last doomsday arrived.