Chapter 2

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My earphones are jammed in my ears. I see everything, but I only hear the verses of the Quran in my head. I don't know what conversations are going on in the car, nor do I care what my brothers are laughing about.

The familiar building of my brothers' school comes in my view of sight, and I resist the urge to groan. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to do something for Dad, but teaching a bunch of fifth graders? That doesn't sound so exciting at all.

I take out the earphones from my ears and put them in my backpack that perfectly matches my outfit.

For my first day at this all boys school, I decided to wear something classy and comfortable-ish. Heavy on the ish, though.

My black converse low tops go with the black scarf I am wearing on my head, which also covers some of my back and front. I wouldn't exactly call my blue jeans 'cool', but I love them for giving me comfort. And, the black striped shirt is from my sister's closet. And, on top of everything, I threw on my black oversized coat that reached below my knees.

Pretty classy, right?

"Okay. Lets set some rules here," Aamil, my brother says as he parks the car in the parking lot. I notice that the lot is full alreadys—and just then I hear a faint ringing of the school bell.

"Are we late?" I deadpan, glaring at Mehmat who just passes me a grin, shrugging as if its no big deal.

"We're the popular boys, Lina. We have to be late," comments my other brother, Abbud.

Abbud, Aamil, and Aadil are the triplets, and no, they aren't identical. Or so I think? I can pretty easily tell them apart, maybe just because I am their sister. Anyway. So they're the 'popular' kids of the school, 18 year old adults who act like 5, and every girl that sets her eyes on either of them drools without shame. I actually feel pretty bad for my other brother Mehmat, who likes to read a lot, thus the big round glasses that rest on his nose, and he didn't get the looks like the triplets.

I still love him more than the triplets.

"Lets see how popular the three of you are," I challenge, getting out of the car, and slamming the door shut of Aamil's black Range Rover. Our Uncle had gifted this to the triplets on their birthday, but since Mehmat was the only one who passed his drivers test, hence only he can drive it.

Mehmat (he is seventeen) comes to stand by me. He easily towers me, so I have to crane my neck and look at his defined face.

"Going all protective here?" I raise a sarcastic brow.

He shrugs, his pretty chocolate brown eyes narrowing at me. "You could say that. Just be careful from the seniors. You don't want to cross their path." He rubs the back of his neck, looking around the parking lot. He is the most shy person out of us seven siblings. And I wouldn't blame him. Something pretty bad had happened to him years ago which really messed up with his confidence.

"I am not afraid of some lame high school boys." Liar. I am actually a lot nervous than I want to admit. But nervous isn't called being afraid.

The rest of the boys circle me.

"Ready to go, sweet pea?" Abbud asks, staring down at me.


"But first the rules," Aadil adds in, making me roll my eyes.

I listen patiently to their rules.

Aadil: Don't talk to any senior. Not without any solid reason.

Abbud: You are going to sit with us during lunch break.

Aamil: Never accept any food from the boys. And always check for any signs of glue on your chair. Pranks are a daily routing here.

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