Emeralds

Three.

Three

[Leen]

My phone screen is broken.

I walk between the supermarket refrigerators picking things on the list in my hands. “Milk,” I whisper to myself as I reach for the cartoon of milk. I sigh as I put it in the trolley thinking about my beloved and precious mobile falling on the asphalt and breaking earlier. I really do love my phone and I’m so pissed off right now. I don’t want to buy a new one.

When I’m done shopping, I carry the bags with great effort and put them in my car trunk. I slide into the driver’s seat and look sadly at my phone before I place it next to me. “I’ll fix you, dear.” I tell it.

I get home in a matter of ten minutes and carry the bags to the kitchen. “Assalamu’alikom Mama,” I say tiredly.

“W’alikom Asslam, Lee.” This is my nickname, which I love so much.

“Look what happened to my phone,” I take it out of my bag and show it to her.

“Oh, what happened?” she gasps.

“I ran into someone this morning at school and it fell off my hands and broke.” A handsome someone is what I don’t say. AstaghfurAllah! I shake my head at the thought.

“Miss Leen is back!” My younger brother Abed comes in and crushes me into a hug and I hug him back.

“Ready for school to start next week, kid?” I stick out my tongue at him.

“Don’t even remind me!” he says, “I can’t wait for this year to be over.”

“Yes, old guy it’s the last year in university!”

“Look who’s talking about old.”

“I’m just twenty-two, you little–”

“Calm down, Leen. You’re not old honey.” she defends me.

“Yeah tell him, mom!”

“Fine, there goes the women vs. men battle.”

“I wanna join!” Jenin comes in with a smile plastered on her face. I look at her suspiciously.

“What makes you so happy, doctor?”

“Non of your business.” she sticks out her tongue.

“I’ll know everything later,” I flip my hair after taking my hijab off. “Hey that’s my hijab you’re wearing!”

“You were at school when I was leaving and I was in a hurry.” Jenin smiles sheepishly, “Sorryyy.”

“Ugh,” I roll my eyes. “Wash and iron it then.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I know.”

“Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

“Okay I’ll talk to Salam quickly and then join you.” I say running up the stairs to my room.

I shut the door and sit on my desk, I get on Skype and call Salam, waiting impatiently for her image to come on the laptop screen.

“LEEEEE!” she screams.

“Habibti (dear), I miss you so much.” We haven’t made a video call for a week because of the situation in Gaza lately. They were having internet problems.”