Houssam stood outside the library, wondering if he dared to go in or not. He knew Hana had class in half an hour, and he also knew that she had had some more questions for him and he wanted to help her out. He really did. But he still wasn't over being mad at her. He still wasn't over having his feelings hurt.
He still wasn't over being confused beyond belief.
As he peered into the room, he spotted her sitting at one of the desks, her laptop open in front of her, and her fingers clicking away noisily on the keyboard. He smiled to see the look of concentration on her face, and he hoped she wouldn't get too angry when she saw him. He had hated the look of anger and betrayal on her face when she had been yelling at him, and he hated himself for making her anything but happy.
"Hana?" he asked knocking on the door, and she looked up, her eyes cautious.
"Salaam."
"Walaikumasalaam." He replied, and she just looked at him as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.
"Can I help you with something?"
"Yeah actually I wanted to finish the interview with you if you have time now."
She regarded him for a few seconds before nodding, and motioning towards the chair across from her.
"I have a little bit of time." She said, and he sat down, nervously moving his leg up and down. After a few more moments of silence, she cleared her throat, and clicked her mouse before poising her fingers over the keys.
"So I wanted to ask you to elaborate on what you said about the youth holding onto hope for their dreams even if people tell you that you can't do it."
"What would you like me to expand upon?" he asked, and she smiled.
"This is actually just for me. Were you speaking from experience?"
He hesitated for a second before running a hand through his hair.
"This won't be printed?"
She shook her head.
"No."
He nodded.
"Yeah I was. I think the only people who truly supported me were Amir and Yusra. Everyone else thought I was ruining my life. My dad actually told me that I was a screw up."
Hana raised her eyebrows in surprise at this. Amu AbdulJabbar didn't seem like the type to say something like that.
"Why did he say that?" she asked quietly.
"Because I dropped out of school to go after my dream."
"How long did it take before you achieved your dream?"
"A long time," he said with a laugh. "I actually had an NBA recruiter come specifically to see me when I was nineteen. But SubhanAllah Yusra ended up in the hospital that day and I had to choose between her or playing. And I chose her. So it wasn't until I had just turned twenty, that I became drafted."
"That was very nice of you to do."
He shrugged uncomfortably.
"There was no decision about it. Family comes first."
She smiled.
"That's what I wanted to ask you actually. How much priority does your family have over your career?"
He gave a bitter laugh.
"I try to put them first as much as I can, but sometimes when I have away games for weeks at a time, it's hard. I try to call and Skype and FaceTime as much as possible but," he shrugged, "sometimes I can't do anything about it. But I love my family more than anything, and if any of them needed me, I would drop everything in a heartbeat."
Hana smiled, and typed on her laptop quickly before pausing, her eyes scanning down the screen, and he took the opportunity of asking her a question.
"So you never told me what happened at your interview?
"Oh," she said, her eyes not leaving the screen, "that. Well it didn't go well."
"What happened?" he asked gently, and she shrugged.
"They weren't what I was looking for."
"Hana." He said quietly, and she finally looked up at him.
"They only wanted me because they thought I was your fiancée."
His eyes widened, and he just stared at her in shock before placing his hands on the table.
"Oh man. I'm so sorry Hana. I guess another way I ruined your life." He moaned, and she quickly shook her head.
"No, no it's not your fault."
"No it is. I'm slowly ruining your life one step at a time." He said quietly, and when she didn't immediately deny it, he felt his heart sink. Is that how she saw him!? As someone who was ruining her life?!
"Don't say that Houssam." She whispered, and for just a second, their eyes locked with one another before he pulled away.
"Any luck with your new portfolio for your resume?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"No I'm just not properly motivated."
"Maybe if you got your lens that you wanted it? What is it again a telephone lens?" he asked, and she smiled.
"Telephoto. And maybe. I'm still saving up for it so I won't be getting it any time soon but InshaAllah Khayr."
"InshaAllah." He said quietly, and once again they were blanketed in silence. It was a different type of silence, not at all the type that he was used to. This one was thick with emotion, and buzzing with electricity, and Houssam was trying so, so hard to understand it.
To make sense of it.
His mind was buzzing almost as much as the air around them, and he had spent the whole last night trying to figure out what was going on in his heart. Finally had had realized that once again, he had felt the loneliness creep back, so he was inventing these feelings for Hana.
Feelings.
He wasn't even sure that's what it was. He just admired her and well if he was honest with himself he loved her like a sister.
A sister who he saw in a whole different light than his real sister.
Nonetheless, he had already asked to talk to Kalthoum, and he wouldn't desert her because he maybe sorta kinda thought Hana was as perfect as a woman could be. He wouldn't do it, he just wasn't that kind of guy. He knew until they got engaged he could talk to as many girls as he wanted, but he couldn't do that. He was a romantic at heart, and would be devastated if someone did that to him, he wouldn't inflict that kind of pain on someone.
"So what is the best advice that you have received?"
He regarded her for a few moments, stroking a hand down his beard, before shrugging his shoulders.
"Someone recently told me to grow up. And it was the best advice I ever recieved because I knew she was right."
She blushed, and turned her face down to her computer.
"I spoke out of anger." She whispered, and he shook his head.
"There is always truth to what you say in anger and in joking. And I deserved it. I've been acting like a little kid all because you've been trying to follow the rules of Islam. And I apologize most ardently, and beg of you to forgive me. Please?" he asked softly, and she nodded, not quite able to meet his gaze.
"Of course I will."
"Thank you." He said with a smile, and she gave him one in return before clearing her throat.
"Are you okay with including Layla again in babysitting tomorrow?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yes of course. I love the little bug." He said and she laughed.
"She wrote you a poem in school, so try to be surprised." She said, and he smiled.
"I'm so honored. I can't wait to read it. So tell me, other than cinnamon rolls, what other foods do you like?"
She smiled.
"What does that have to do with the interview?"
He shrugged.
"It doesn't. I'm just curious."
She smiled again, tapping her fingers on the tabletop. .
"Well I love pasta of course, and Maqluba. But my favorite is grape leaves."
"Aw man!" He exclaimed. I love grape leaves with a passion. Have you ever had Yusra's grape leaves?!" he asked and she shook her head with a laugh.
"No I haven't. Are they good?"
"Good? No, no, no. Good isn't the right word. They are a dream. It's like," he paused, waving his hand in the air as if searching for the perfect word, "the angels have descended into the kitchen and cooked for us!"
Hana laughed.
"Astagfirallah!" she exclaimed, and he grinned.
"Okay fine. But they are amazing. InshaAllah I'll ask her to make them for you soon."
"Oh no, she is pregnant and busy with Kareem, I don't want her to feel any added pressure." She said, and as she reached down for her purse, she let out a loud gasp and suddenly started to freak out.
"What?! What's wrong!?" he asked in a panic, and his eyes widened as he saw the blood on her hand. "Ya Allah how did that happen!?"
"I had a pin in my purse I forgot about it, and it just dragged across my hand." She said through clenched teeth, and as the blood began to trickle down her hand, he jumped from his seat, and reached into his gym bag, pulling out his sweatshirt.
"Here put pressure." He said handing it to her. "You okay?" he asked after a few seconds, and she nodded, pulling away the shirt to examine the wound. It was long but it was shallow Alhamdulillah.
"Thank you." She said quietly, and he shrugged slightly.
"No problem."
The silence returned full force this time, and suddenly it was too much for Houssam. He couldn't handle it anymore, and he pulled up his gym bag in his hand.
"Look I have to go. InshaAllah I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe you can send me anymore questions that you have?" he asked and she looked at him in surprise before nodding.
"Yes of course."
"Do you need me to get you a bandage?" he asked, and she removed the shirt, looking at the cut before shaking her head.
"No Alhamdulillah it stopped. Thank you. I'll wash it, and give it back to you tomorrow."
"Take your time." He said with a smile, and she smiled back, causing him to get that feeling in the pit of his stomach.
A feeling that could only be described as butterflies.