Life as a Hijabi

Chapter 2 - Starting New

I dedicated my first week to familiarising myself with the area and finding easy routes to the university. I didn't want to make myself look like a fool by being late on my first day to Stanford University. After going through Ahmed's pantry, it was clear that the guy relied heavily on the take-away stores and that he didn't have a single idea as to how to fry an egg. I re-stocked the pantry with some fresh food, and already it had brightened up the kitchen. I decided that I had better cook up some meals that would last for a couple days, because whilst juggling everything, I didn't think I could cope with having to cook fresh meals every day. I also managed to clean through my bedroom thoroughly and made sure that everything was clean and in order. After all, I wanted to be in my best possible shape for starting fresh at my new university.

"I can see you're getting ready for your big day tomorrow," smiled Ahmed as he helped me move my desk next to the window.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's going to be a big day dad," I replied.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked.

"Weren't you going to come anyway? I mean, it's a bit of a walk and I haven't really gotten round to getting the hand of using the bus yet,"

"Honey, come with me," Ahmed said. I followed him, curious to see what he was on about.

He brought me outside to the garage. He opened the rusted metal gates only to reveal a vintage Mustang sitting there.

"I was keeping this a surprise until you went to university but here you go anyway. I hope you like it," he said smiling awkwardly.

"Wait, hang on a second. This – is for me?" I asked. I mean yeah I was going to get a car, not a flashy one, and I knew dad was financially unstable so he couldn't get me a flashy one even if he wanted to but still, I wasn't expecting something like this.

"Of course. Do you like it?" he asked.

"Dad, I love it!" I squealed.

It wasn't a flashy car but it was beautiful. For my first car anyway.

*-*

I was pretty nervous about going in to the university on my own, but I was made of tougher material so I decided to be head-strong about the whole 'new people' thing. Dad left to go to work at the police station. He was 'Chief Hussain' to the people of this area. I parked my car in an already busy-looking car-park and headed over to the sign stating 'New Years – Medicine'. I was half an hour early, but it seemed like everyone was already here. As I passed all the cars in the car-park, I noticed that my car stood out, because it was the only one which wasn't fancy in design or logo. Oh well, I sighed. The place was probably going to be full of posh snobs.

I headed over to a reception desk that was marked as 'registration'. A red-haired woman was sitting behind the desk helping around a dozen people fill in their forms.

"Erm, excuse me. I'm here for the medicine course 1st year," I mumbled at her.

"Oh yes, here," she said and she thrusted me with a form that I had to fill in. I was done within a couple of minutes and I handed in my form to the woman. I was told to sit down and wait until we were called into the auditorium. All in all, I was pretty interested in the design of the building and the interior structure. As I looked at everyone who was taking the same course as me, I noted that I was right. Everybody here was posh and snobby.

After what seemed like hours, we were finally called into the auditorium and we all had to take a seat in one of the plush-looking arm chairs. An old man was standing on the stage and immediately I prepared myself for a boring long speech that I would have to endure.  After sitting down for a good couple of hours, we were being directed to different rooms. My butt was so numb from all the sitting, I couldn't even walk properly.

After finding the correct room, I decided to take a seat in one of the empty chairs at the back. We had to wait for a while for everyone in the same semester to arrive. I decided to whip out my phone and make use of the free Wi-Fi. After replying to each of my mum's eight emails, I went onto my social media and looked at my Instagram page. I looked at my posts from when I first had Instagram, and I looked at the messages that my friends had sent me and the crazy selfies of all of us. A pang of sadness washed through me and suddenly I felt home-sick. Here I was, sitting in the midst of all these people in a country that I couldn't even call home, where my own mother was thousands of miles away from me, where I didn't have a single friend and where I had to help my dad. I could feel the tears coming on, but I couldn't look like a fool and start blubbing on my first day. I decided to imagine what my dinner would look like that evening and a smile came to lips as I imagined the chicken teriyaki on my plate.

"What are you smiling at?" a soft, gentle voice asked.

"Oh nothing. I was just thinking of what I'm going to have for dinner this evening," I replied.

She laughed a melodious laugh. I turned to look at her and noticed how beautiful she looked. She had fair skin and long straight brown hair that fell to her waist. She had big brown eyes and full lips that looked like she was wearing permanent lipstick.

"My name is Rosaline," she said with a smile.

"Hi, my name is Zahra," I said shyly. I felt like my self-esteem had plummeted down, just by looking at her. She looked like a page-three type of girl in a magazine like Vogue or Harper's Bazaar. There was no wonder that her name was Rosaline, after all she did look like a rose.

"That's a pretty name. By the way, I love your accent. Are you British?" she asked.

"Yes I am actually. I'm from London," I replied.

"That's so cool. I went to London last summer with my family. I loved it!" she cried.

"Really? That's only because you probably didn't have to endure the usual downpours,"

She chuckled.

"Probably," she smiled.

And little did I know that from that day on, we'd grow to become the best of friends.