Chapter 3

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*Iman’s P.O.V*

 The house was chaotic, to say the least; moving men putting things in every room, Ayman and Youssef trying to help with the luggage and the small things while I try my best to get everyone to put every piece of furniture in the right room.

 After the movers finished their work, Ayman gave them their money and we were left with the basic cleaning and tidying up, which of course I was stuck with because Ayman took Youssef out to get some food for us.

 The house was so big--3 floors and a huge back yard. One and half hours had passed and I only finished cleaning up the living area and the kitchen. Cleaning this house would be the death of me.

 “We’re here!” I heard Youssef chant when he and Ayman got home. He ran up to me in the living room and jumped on the couch that I just cleaned. “Guess who we just saw now?” He asked excitedly.

 “I don’t know, Youssef, who?” I sighed tiredly. I was not in the mood for his childish guessing game.

 “Just say any random name,” he pouted, “I’ll even give you a hint. He is the coolest person on earth.” He said enthusiastically.

 “John Green?” I faked an excitement, knowing fully well that Youssef thinks John Green wasn’t cool; quite the opposite actually.

 “Really? John Green? That’s your definition of the coolest person ever?” He rolled his eyes at me making me chuckle a little at him and look at Ayman who had an amused look on his face while placing the food in the kitchen island.

 “Just tell her Jo, she will never guess.” Ayman chuckled, making me raise my eyebrow at him. I knew he was actually mocking my ignorance on what was considered cool or hip.

 “Fine,” he sighed then regained his enthusiasm quickly while telling me, ”Zayn Malik!”

 My face straightened as to no sign of excitement, enthusiasm or even a simple note as surprised was evident on my face, “Where?”

 “Just across the road! Can you believe that?” He ignored my no-reaction reaction and continued with his excitement as he told me what happened. “He was getting out of his drive way and we were asking about the nearest restaurant or sto-“ He was cut off when I connected what he said in my tired mind. 

 “Getting out of his drive way?” I repeated his words quizzically.

 “Yeah, he lives next door.” He pretended to be casual but failed miserably as I saw that excited sparkle in his eyes.

 “Next door? That’s close,” I said in a low voice. I was sad and disappointed but most of all worried.

 Zayn Malik was the cause of many fights between Youssef and I. Simply because Youssef looked up to him and I didn’t approve of his behaviors most of the time. And that was when he was just an image on the wall. What will happen when he becomes a real person in his life?

 Sighing, I silently prayed Allah that Zayn was just too busy to talk to a little fan who happened to be his neighbor again. I also hoped that Youssef could take that without any great disappointments in his heart.

 “Enough with the chit-chat guys, I’m starving here.” Ayman interrupted my thoughts.

 Quickly, I went to the kitchen and grabbed 3 plates for us to eat on. We sat around the kitchen island, eating and chatting the rest of the night.


 The next few days were spent mostly as following; Ayman waking up at 6AM to get ready before going to work at 7AM, Youssef waking up some time at noon since it was summer vacation then go out to our old neighborhood to meet some friends, and me waking up at 5AM to make breakfast for Ayman before he woke up and help him get ready for his day then clean as much as possible before Youssef wakes up so I can make him some food, probably lunch then clean again till it was time to make dinner.

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