Chapter 8

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~Zayn’s P.O.V~

Danny and I have been waiting for Jo for more than 30 minutes. It wasn’t like him to be late, if Jo was anything, he would be punctual.

“Where’s that friend of yours, Zayn? I’m getting bored,” Danny whined.

“I don’t know. I’ll try to text him.” I got my phone out and searched for his number then sent him a message.

It had been another 30 minutes and still I got no reply from Jo. This was definitely odd. He was the one who nagged to tag along with us whenever we decide to head out to town. But tonight something was wrong. He didn’t just ditch us either--he was also ignoring my texts and hadn’t even tried to make an excuse.

“Whatever, let’s just head out.” I shrugged and took my keys, my wallet and my phone then went out with Danny and some other people he knew.

“Wasted time, man. Wasted time,” Danny chuckled as we all got in the car and started our night.

 ***

~Iman’s P.O.V~

After I set up dinner for Ayman, we both sat in silence as he quietly ate some of his food and I just let my mind wonder about the whole situation. What were we going to do about Youssef? Should we tell Uncle Adam?

“I’m going to the mosque. I’ll search for the Imam to ask him what to do about that tattoo.” Ayman got up from the table.

“Okay,” I mumbled quietly.

“Take his phone, and don’t let him get out of that room till I come back.” Ayman said sternly and I nodded.

I watched as Ayman walked out of the kitchen and flinched when he closed the door harshly.

Sighing, I walked up to Youssef’s room to try and talk to him. Maybe he was forced or maybe he didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to get it? Maybe it wasn’t a real one at all and it would wash out in a month or something? Oh how I wish that was the case.

Knocking on Youssef’s door, I heard a mumble which I guess meant ‘come in’, so I entered slowly and closed the door behind me. I saw Youssef lying on his bed, doing nothing.

“Ayman said to take your phone,” I said in a small voice.

Youssef pointed to his desk where I saw his phone on top of some books that he had there. I went and took it. I was about to switch it off when I noticed it was already switched off.

“Youssef?” I was not sure of what I was supposed to say now. Should I lecture him about what he did wrong? Should I take him under my wing and try to understand why he did what he did? Should I yell at him?

“Is it… is it permanent?” I pointed to his hand as I took a seat next to him.

“Yeah,” He mumbled.

“Do you know that it’s Haram?” I asked in a hopeful tone.

“Yeah,” He simply replied.

“Then why did you do it?” I asked in a bit of shock and disbelief.

“Because,” He let out a breath as he turned to the other side so that his back was facing me now.

“Because?” I repeated his answer in confusion. Anger was starting to pile inside of me. Did he not understand what he did? Or was he playing dumb? And what was up with that attitude?

“Youssef sit up straight and talk to me. Why the hell did you get that tattoo?” My patience was running low with him as he kept ignoring me.

“Iman, I’m tired. Can we talk tomorrow?” He sighed in annoyance.

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