Good Kid-Bad Kid[COMPLETED]

Chapter 8 (Laila)

A/N: Ooooh things are getting serious! Please VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE! 

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I kicked my shoes off and flopped onto my bed, sighing in contentment as the mattress and thick fluffy blankets swallowed me. I'd decided to take a nap for two hours, pray Asr and then start readying dinner. Because Mama wouldn't be back till eight we were having dinner kind of late.

I smiled inwardly. Two weeks ago Mama had come home smiling for the first time in ages. She's gotten a job at Genisis, and a really good salary. That night we'd gone out for dinner to celebrate.
I myself was starting to see New Forest in much better light. School was much more welcoming and I actually looked forward to it. I'd made friends with the Muslim girls, as much to my delight they'd instantly accepted me into their group and were really nice and I was very grateful...and kind of ashamed. I hadn't thought they would be so nice, I'd thought they wouldn't want a new comer to intrude into their well established group.
As well as that, I'd put my name down for soccer trials and the girls were eager to see me play. Hassan, Zahra's cousin who was also in the same year always found an opportunity to tease me about it fondly and little did he know I was getting more and more nervous.
Sighing, I shook away thoughts of everything and let myself fall asleep.

A few hours later I groggily pushed off my covers, blinking at the view from my window. The sun was gradually setting- THE SUN WAS SETTING?! I bolted for the bathroom and made wudhu in record time, tied back my hair and threw on a scarf. Asr time was running out! I berated myself for turning off my alarm.

After I prayed I quickly cleaned up the kitchen, set the plates on the table and chopped up lettuce, carrots and cucumber for salad- the only thing Mama trusted me to make on my own since I was usually a disaster when it came to cooking Indian food. There were so many spices and masala types to put in I got confused!
After the salad it was time for Maghrib, which I prayed, then settled down in the living room to start writing out history notes.

I was so engrossed in classics research after a few hours (we were studying Alexander the Great!) that I didn't even notice the time. It was finally when my phone beeped from a text message from Shouq which read, "A.S Laila, could you please send me calc notes from today! I think I'm missing an example". I grinned at her perfect English text, it gave me peace. I hated short form. I was about to reply when 9:25 pm registered in my brain. 9:25! My mom should have been back at least an hour ago! I felt worry seize me immediately and I quickly dialed her cell. It was answered shortly.
"Mama!" I exclaimed, "where are you?! Why didn't you tell me you'd be late today? I was so worried!"
There was a moment of silence at the other end, then a voice which was not my mom's spoke.
"Hello? Is this Ms Ruba Mohammed's daughter?"
I froze. That was a masculine, white American, official kind of voice and it never had good news.
"Y-yes?" I managed.
"Ms. Mohammed, there's been an accident..."
I felt my head spin slightly and my body go numb.
"The ambulance have just taken her to Saint John's hospital. Ms Mohammed?"
I cut the line, sprinted to my room and grabbed my hijab before flying out of the apartment, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.