Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 31 -- Playing Cupid and the Fashion Show

            I’ve only seen Aiden a few times, but his face flashes in my head, causing shivers to run down my spine. His ice blue eyes flash in my mind over and over again. I knock gently on the door and Maysa comes out. Her eyes are slightly red. “Oh, Maysa.” I grab her and squeeze her in a hug and I can feel her collapse, her body shaking with sobs. I don’t feel wetness on my shoulder; this is tearless crying, which is just as painful.

            “I’m going to get you to Zak’s car, ok?”

            She nods. I grab her hand and tiptoe towards the dining room. “I’m going to just keep my head down, ok? I need to hide my eyes. I don’t want anyone asking what’s up.” I nod and hurry on.

            The dining room is grand, with a chandelier and a table to seat twelve. It’s all dark mahogany wood and pristine glass, but its ornate décor leaves a hollow feeling in me. I lead Mays gently, and our footsteps are whisper-soft, a secret once told and never uttered again.

            We step out of the long dining room, into the prayer room next to the entrance where all the shoes are. The minute I catch a glimpse of black cloth and the creaking of a door, I freeze and Maysa crashes into me. “Who is it?” She looks up but her expression and tone are so monotonous, like she asked the question because she felt obliged to.

            “Um, nothing. Cute guy. I freaked.” Oh my God I’m so stupid. When would I ever say that? Maysa glances up for a brief second and gives me a confused look but then shrugs it off. I can feel tears threatening to spill from her wide eyes but she holds them back with a grim expression. “Why don’t you stand here for a minute?” She stands next to a glass case with figurines and photo frames on display. She’s concealed from view if someone was to look from both entrances because the thing is so damn big. Besides, I’m not exaggerating when I say this dining room is huge.

            One entrance leads to the kitchen; the other, to the front door area. The guy in black, who definitely looks like he came here to sell weed or marijuana or something, is standing in the living room, so if I were to walk out to get the front door, he would see me.

            “Maysa, just stand here, ok? Don’t go anywhere because it’s….um, it’s late and I want to walk out together. I forgot something.” She nods and sits down on the ground and starts playing with her bracelets and rings, not really paying attention to anything.

            I survey the room and look around for something small to throw. I find one of those decorative straw balls—you know what I’m talking about? Like, when you have a small table and you have a basket sitting on it, there’s usually like these small colored pebbles or straw balls or something? Yeah, those.

            I’m standing as close to the kitchen entrance as I dare. If I peak out, I can see the profile of the guy in black, looking bored as hell. He’s playing with a switchblade. Gulping, I chuck the straw ball with as much might as I can muster so that it makes a distinct sound when it hits the kitchen tile. I reel back quickly but I know that he’s looking around with confusion. I step back and press myself against the wall, hoping that the angle at which the entrance is will hide me from view. A few footsteps. Then, nothing. I head over to the other entrance that leads to the front door, but I still see the guy stationed near the living room. It’s only then that I realize that in the small barbeque area encased by glass walls, that Rayyan and a few other guys are dealing drugs. Shoot. Only something major will distract the guy that’s obviously supposed to keep guard.

            “What are you doing?” Maysa whispers.

            “Um…I dropped one of the decoration things.”