The Hooded Hijabi

Lecture 38

I open my eyes and I feel my bedspread covered with my sweat. It takes me a minute or so to register where I am, though. I'm home, I tell myself to calm my nerves down. Home. Safe and warm, unlike the place I have nightmares about every now and then.

I roll out of bed and sit cross-legged on the wooden floor and drag a small chest out from underneath the bed. I sit there, staring at it and heave a sigh. As I open the lid, my eyes fall on a brown-leather bound diary lying in it along with a few family pictures.

I hold a picture of my father and myself, his eyes wet with tears of joy because of a lame joke I had told him. I smile, reminiscing the good, old days but tears blur my vision as I notice a few newspaper clippings projecting from the diary.

I slip them out of the diary and stare at the picture of my late father. I had memorized every single word in every single newspaper regarding him.

I close my eyes and take a long, deep breath but before I could feel the result of this relaxing technique that my psychologist had taught, my mother calls out my name from the kitchen.

I shove the contents back into the chest and slide it back under the bed. Later I slip my feet in my furry, yellow slippers and head towards the bathroom. After having changed into a chocolate brown abaya over a pair of cotton trousers and T-shirt, I put on a grey, long overcoat. I dab a pink lip tint onto my lips and walk out of the room with a hijab on.

"Eat your eggs before they get cold, Amina", my mother says while eying me. She's worried about me. I can see it in her frown and I can sense it in her tone which she tried her best to keep monotonous. So I simply pick my fork up and nibble on a piece of scrambled eggs.

After a few minutes of playing with my food and forcing some down my throat I politely pick my plate up and wash it in the sink. I give my little brother, Ali, a fist bump and say my sala'am to my mother as I leave for my Jurisprudence lecture.

A cold gust of wind sweeps in as I open the door to get to my car. This is my favourite part of the morning routine; driving my Chevrolet Camaro SS. It's a second hand 2012 model but let me tell you, it is the most beautiful possession I have as of yet.

Sure I have fancy dresses, a couple of branded satchels (all of them were gifts from my aunt since I don't really like wasting money on a "brand" - well, unless it's a car or a wristwatch we're talking about) and other things that girls of my age love to own and show off.

But none of it can compare to my "Beast"; glossy red with black stripes on the bulging hood and a powerful V-8 engine within that roars when revved. I accelerate the car and enjoy the satisfying sound it makes. Wroom! Time to go.

I fix the navy blue Pashmina shawl wrapped around my head before I get out of the car. As I am about to enter hall 2 (where my jurisprudence lectures are held) I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Where's ma homie been, eh?", asks Rachel with a smile as brightly to which I reply with an equally upbeat manner. Rachel is dressed in skinny, ripped jeans and a grey top that is tucked inside her jeans. Her blonde hair reaches down her shoulders. My favorite part of her outfit are the white Alexander McQueen exaggerated-sole sneakers. 

"In the hood teaching them newbies how to be cool like us."

"Who says you're cool, though?"

"Jerk", I roll my eyes at her. Rachel lets out a hearty laugh and simply puts her arm around me, beginning to walk towards the hall. I smile and shake my head, walking along.

Lecture 38. I jot down the words Professor McKinnon speaks and then yawn while carelessly looking around when my eyes catch someone intensely looking at me. A man probably around my age; brown eyes, fair skin, wavy and short hair and.. wait what? The corner of his lips curls up to a slight smile. Why is he smiling at me out of nowhere? Weirdo. What's his name, anyway?

"What did Hart have to say about Austin's Bad man's perspective, Miss Malik?", asks Professor McKinnon in a rather stern tone as I return my attention to her. I confidently answer her question and finish with a polite and somewhat apologetic smile. The hour and a half of the lecture finally come to an end and I walk out of the room without glancing back at the weirdo, though I can somehow feel his gaze on my back.

"So, where to now?", asks Rachel as we get into my Chevy. "I don't know. I was thinking of visiting the mosque today. It's been a while.", I reply thoughtfully.

"Alright, drop me off at the church then. My mom will love me for a day or two."

"Sure. But first I need to grab some stuff from the mart."

"Buy me ramen then?"

"Only if you bake those brownies you promised me last month."

"Deal!"

I make a turn to get out of the parking lot but a heavy bike comes out of nowhere right in front of me. I slam my foot on the breaks and glare at the biker. "What the heck!", I cry out. "What was that for, you jerk!", I say even though he can't hear me.

He puts his hand on his chest and bows his head as a way of apologizing but I simply roll my eyes at him. Meanwhile, he takes off his helmet. What! It's that same guy! He mouths a 'sorry' to me but I switch my gear and rush my car out of his sight, the car's tyres screeching as I make a turn.

<End of Chapter 1>