Typical Imaan.
"I think you all are being dramatic. There is really nothing 'hot' about him" I lied. There was no soul on earth that could deny that this guy was strikingly handsome. Beautiful even, because he looked like some of those models you saw on a magazine cover or something. But I was never going to admit that to Imaan.
"You find everyone ugly" She pointed out and I shrugged.
"Quiet class!" The teacher said, and the class gradually fell silent.
I watched as she wrote the topic on the board and began to teach us, but i just could not concentrate. My mind kept wandering back to the mysterious guy who had seemed to catch my attention in a matter of seconds. I wanted to talk to him because i knew there was something attached to the glares. It was not just normal for an absolute stranger to keep shooting daggers at you. I sighed, realizing i was thinking and worrying too much. It was just a stupid glare anyways, nothing serious.
My best friend must have heard me sigh because she gave me a look.
"Are you fine?" She asked, and i nodded, picking up my pen and pretending to jot down whatever it was Mrs Hala was saying.
Imaan Jaleel and I had been best friends since we were four, and I really couldn't imagine a life without her. She was Somalian and moved here with her family when she was a baby, and our families had been the closest of friends ever since then.
She had two elder brothers,Ahmad and Fareed.
"Do you think he was staring at you because he likes you?" Imaan asked and I shook my head.
Again, typical Imaan.
She was the type that was obsessed with reading romance novels and watching love stories and anything that involved a guy and girl , was a romance plot to her.
"First of all, he can't even like me because he can't see my face" I pointed out. It might have been a stupid point to make but the truth was most people fell in love with your physical parts before looking onwards and falling In love with who you truly were.
Due to that, it was always kind of difficult for a niqabi to get any admirers. I started wearing the niqab ( a veil worn by some Muslim women in public, covering all of the face apart from the eyes) when I was six years old and even though my father I didn't like it at first because I was always bullied, it gradually became a part of me.
Although if I had a chance, I'd stop wearing a Niqab without a second thought.Like yes, wearing a niqab was something beautiful but I was just not into it especially because it was not a decision I made willingly and I wished my father would understand that.
Being a niqabi, and the only one of that kind in West high, I had been bullied many times,called names, laughed at and hurt me a lot especially because I had to put up with all that for years. Everyone always saw me as that weird nerdy girl that covered her face. But I felt like just because we covered our face, didn't make us any less human. Did it?
The bell rang, making me realize that the class was already over and I turned to see that the room was already empty as everyone squeezed their way out.
School was over for the day and I could not just wait to get home and have some sleep.
Realizing Imaan was already out, I made my way to my locker until I bumped hardly into someone.
I groaned in frustration when I realized who it was.
Amna Soufyan.
Ya Allah! When was she ever going to get tired of bothering me?
I took a deep breath.What did she want this time?
