"I am ready, thank you very much." I snapped as I pulled on my stockings. Okay, not completely ready but very close to it!
"Good because I'm pulling up." Zayan responded and with that, the phone clicked.
"Oh, so just like that! No salams or nothing." I huffed in annoyance as I rushed to put on my black dress shoes. I grabbed my silver purse off of a hook and a bag with my gold party dress and gold pumps inside. I nearly fell down the stairs in my attempt to hurry up. I passed the kitchen table and then retraced my steps. I grabbed three pancakes off the plate and put them in a plastic bag, then grabbed the syrup and poured it inside. I know it's sloppy but my stomach was saying otherwise. I heard my brother honk and then I ran out of the house, my headscarf flying out every which and way.
"Finally decided to join me I see," Zayan said casually, as he held back a smirk. My arms were full of stuff and the bag of pancakes was being held securely by my mouth. I let out a muffled shut up and we both started laughing. He grabbed my bags from me and put them in the backseat. I sighed in relief as I opened the pancake bag. Then I saw that I had a big problem as I looked from the pancakes to my new clothes. I groaned and then resealed the bag.
"This is wonderful, just wonderful." I mumbled as my stomach began to growl. Zayan saw my predicament.
"You don't have anything to cover your clothes with?" He asked, running a hand through his thick mop of curly brown hair.
"No. I'm so hungry but I really don't want to get a stain on this outfit. It's too freaking pretty." I muttered in distress.
"Mashallah, it is what it is. You'll be able to eat properly when we get there." Zayan said reassuringly.
"Inshallah, I'll survive until then." I replied, a little less hunger crazed than before. We stayed quiet for a while, just riding out the silence.
"Zayan," I said softly.
"I can't believe she's getting married." I said as I began to tear up at the thought of it.
"Yeah, I know right." Zayan replied gently.
"I think I'm gonna cry, it's so romantic." I sniffled happily, clasping my hands together.
"Oh god, don't! Ummi was in tears this morning, not you too." Zayan groaned.
"Fine," I mumbled. "But it is really romantic right? The way they both had no clue how mutual their love for each other was and asked Abi to get married in the same night."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"What do you mean 'I guess so'? Of course it's romantic. You're her twin; shouldn't you be able to feel that like spidey senses or something?"
"Zayna is her own person. She's in love with him so they're going to marry, I get it. I don't know about all of that romance stuff." Zayan said quietly. He seemed kind of fidgety, his hands tightened on the steering wheel. I put my own hand on his shoulder.
"She's going to be okay, Zay. He's a great person and I'm sure Abi has done quite enough digging around to know as much. Do you know how many times he said no and Noor continued to ask for Zayna's hand. Abi wouldn't just give his daughters to anybody." I said, trying my best to help my brother see my point.
YOU ARE READING
Diamonds & PearlsSpiritual
Daleela is fifteen, hormonal, and all around your average teenage Muslim girl. Well, you know, if being a Muslim girl in America is what you call average to start with. She has a quick temper, an overly soft heart, and to add to that she's constantl...