Converting the Bad Boy ✔

Chapter 22

^Pic of Fatima

Dedicated to So_Relatable for leaving beautiful long comments that make me smile and inspiring me to write each chapter and not give up. Thanks sweetie ❤

(Edited)

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"So you met Damian's mother?" Yasmine raised her eyebrows.

I nodded. "She was lovely. Completely the opposite of Damian."

"Was she pretty?" Zeinab questioned.

"Though that question was unnecessary, yes, Zeinab, she was pretty. Damian looks a lot like her, actually," I replied.

Yasmine smirked. "Are you admitting that Damian is good-looking, Mariam?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm simply stating that Damian looks like his mother, which is perfectly normal since he is her son."

"Well, if the mother's good looking, surely the son is too?" Fatima said slyly.

I groaned. "Why are you girls so obsessed with looks?"

"Because we're curious," Zeinab answered, grabbing one of my pillows and hugging it. We were all gathered on my bed, talking about my hospital encounter, as well as what went down at the park. Part of Theo's training included measuring our heart rates before and after each exercise, and we had to fill in a rating scale on how we were feeling before and after as part of the progress report. It was safe to say that we all felt incredibly sore, and Samantha even hitched a ride on Theo's back because she claimed her 'legs weren't working.' Theo enjoyed it though, but I noticed Denise had a strange look on her face as Theo ran across the park with Sam on his back, neighing like a horse.

"Anyway, let's get on with the meeting. We only have an hour," I took charge, and Fatima pulled something out of her backpack she brought, standing up to show it to us.

"This is an English translation of the Quran," she declared, letting us all see the cover. It had the same dark green and gold border and patterns, except titled with THE HOLY QURAN in thick gold letters.

"Can I see it for a sec?" Fatima passed it to Yasmine, who flicked through it, curious. It was from left to right, of course, since it was in English, with plain white pages in black text.

"Interesting," Yasmine murmured, reading through a few verses in her head. She passed it to me, and together with Zeinab peering over my shoulder we looked at it, skimming a few of the translations.

"It doesn't have the same effect as the Arabic version," I deduced. "But it's much easier to understand."

At home I spoke a combination of Lebanese and English, and since I had studied Arabic in Quran School, I could understand the majority of the Quran, with a few words still unknown to me. However knowing the vocabulary didn't guarantee that I understood the meaning of the verses, since there was so much depth and symbolism that I couldn't wrap my head around, and if it took Islamic Scholars years to decipher the meanings then how could I claim that I understood it?

"Because it's in English, duh," Zeinab chuckled beside my ear. Since I was at home, I didn't wear a hijab in front of Fatima and Yasmine, but they had to, of course. Fatima wore a red scarf that contrasted nicely with her caramel brown skin and Yasmine wore a purple and blue tinted hijab along with a white blouse and blue jeans. After coming home from the park I had washed my hair, so I had braided it down my back, the tips still dripping wet.

"Should we give this to Damian to read?" Yasmine suggested.

"I think it would be too overwhelming for him," Fatima said hesitantly. "Plus, it's my Dad's, and I borrowed it just for today."