I wake up, fully energized and ready for the day. A Saturday. I memorized surah Yasin pretty well, it's one of my favorite surah's actually.
Every Saturday and Sunday, Abeera and my mom and I head to Islamic Teaching's. It's a beautiful building, prettier then all the other mosque I would go to. I've been in Islamic Teaching's for about two years now, I'm trying my best to memorize two pages instead of one.
I dressed up, all ready to go, heading downstairs to eat some food and watch TV as I wait for the other two.
"Mom are you feeling better?" I ask as I hear footsteps coming downstairs.
"Way better, but I'll be staying home today." She says in a tired voice. I didn't have any problems with her staying, but I wish she came with us anyways.
"Okay." I respond looking back at the TV.
"Do you know your surah?" Mother asked in a faint voice.
"Of course." Why else would I be going?
"Good." She smiles, heading to the kitchen.
I watch a rerun of Friends, as I wait for Abeera. We didn't need to drive to Islamic Teaching's, because it was only a block away from our house.
Oh yeah, I wonder who my groups teacher is going to be. I totally forgot about how my original teacher went to Dubai with his family. He told us our new teacher will be close to our age. A youngster.
Hopefully he isn't charming and what not, so the girls in my group don't get distracted by him. They never lower there gazes! Though I'm a bit mature than most of the girls in my group, Mira takes the cake, she could be a teacher herself, but she's to kind and quiet to tell us off.
Abeera walks down the stairs, wearing a small hijab and a skirt that reaches under her knees, and a baggy peach jeans.
"You need to eat?" I ask kindly.
"Already did." She says sassy to me. Whoa, okay then.
I grab my Qur'an, and so does Abeera. We say our goodbyes to our mother and head out the door.
I glance down at Abeera, seeing the frown on her face growing.
"What's wrong?" I walk slowly to match her pace. I try to hold her hand, but she rejects it by fake coughing.
She doesn't answer my question, so I decided to let it go.
I open the front doors of the building, still amazed by the beauty it holds in it. The female side was downstairs, and the men side was upstairs.
"Asalamualakum." I say walking in with my right leg.
"Wa alaikum salaam." Numerous of voices respond to me. Abeera walks off to her group, as I walk slowly to mine.
Voices filled the room. People reciting the Qur'an left and right. I sit down by Mira, waving at her.
The chair that the teacher sits in was actually empty. So he hasn't arrived yet.
"He isn't here yet?" I ask Mira.
"Nope, let's hope his just a regular looking guy though."
"Yup." I couldn't agree more.
"Asalamualakum." A low voice says out of the blue.
Conversations immediately died down.
All the girls looks up at the man who searches for our group, but then finally finds it and takes a seat.
It was drop dead silence. I didn't dare look up from my kitab.
"Oh my Allah. Look at him." Mira whispers to me.
I look up, already regretting that I did. He looked like a damn model. His jawline was perfect, his hair pushed back in a messy way.
By now I had a picture of his face in my head but that didn't stop me from staring at him.
He looks back at me, and I swore I could've lost it.
"Your original teacher went to Dubai with his family, so I'll be your teacher for now. Uh...my names Zakir, but you can call me teacher or whatever you want."
He looks around the group. "I've seen some of you guys in my school."
"What school do you go to?" A voice blurts out of nowhere, I laugh along with the other girls.
"Uh, I'm a senior, and I attend to Doyen High School." That's my school...
"Do you speak Arabic?" The same voice blurts out, no chill with that girl.
"Yeah, I speak three languages actually. English, Arabic, and French." Can this man be any perfect?
"How many times did you finish the Qur'an." Someone else ask.
"Three times. I fully memorized it, so yeah. Anything is possible." We make eye contact once again, crap. I try putting my focus back on my kitab but I can't.
"Enough about me, who wants to pass there surah?" He ask calmly, as if world had peace or something.
A girl goes up to him, reading her surah.
He corrects her here and there, his voice almost made me cry. It was my favorite surah that he was reading to her. Al Rahman.
Everyone stopped and listen closely to his voice, mashallah. Anything is possible.