I added the heart because I love him. Would you like to know what goes on in Adam's head?
** DISCLAIMER: I am not responsible for any cardiac arrests or stolen hearts. ;D
Weddings That Parents Drag You To
Adam Ali
Age fifteen, two years from present-day
When she walks into the room, I think my heart is about to stop functioning correctly. The beats in my chest become irregular and suddenly, everything around me has no purpose, no significant meaning.
I don’t hear the clinking of silverware as waiters around me carry trays to various tables. I don’t hear the soft romantic music in the background. I don’t process how Bilal is trying to get my attention, trying to tell me about the newest gadget that Apple is coming out with.
I feel like I’m twelve again, the age I was when it dawned to me that somewhere in my heart, I’d reserved a place for Maysa. Corny, yes. True, also yes.
We are at a posh hotel, at some wedding that the Muslim community was invited to. I’m a guy, so weddings naturally aren’t my thing. I never found interest in the long speeches about how amazing the bride and groom are, or how they crashed their first car. The romantic music always makes me roll my eyes, and the smell of millions of flowers makes me sneeze. And the weird mix of happy/sad crying at the end? It makes me want to scream and run the other way.
But going through all this torture turned out to be worth it because the moment I turned to glance at the door, she came in, her beautiful face radiating happiness.
She looks so graceful as she holds a bouquet of flowers, in line with a bunch of other girls who were standing in two rows as the bride enters the room and begins making her way towards the stage with her father by her side.
Zakariya is sitting next to me and he mumbles something about how the bride is pretty. I can’t honestly say that I agree. My perception of beauty is standing quietly, her large brown eyes fixated on the bride. She looks over and catches my eye. She smirks and grins widely.
For a split second, I blank out on what to do. The manly part of my brain is screaming at me to wave back at her, wink, do something, but I’m mesmerized, totally taken by this girl who manages to rock my world without doing much at all.
I wink at her and discreetly wave. The bouquet in her hands moves a little as she waves with three fingers back at me. Before I get carried away and think some non-Islamically-acceptable thought about how she looks, I lower my gaze.
After the bride gets up on the stage, the recitation of the Quran begins, made by one of the college guys from the mosque. It’s beautiful, the second best thing about this night. Then, the long bout of speeches begins. I feel myself growing more and more impatient and fidgety.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and Zak is looking at me with a grin on his face. He slides a napkin over to me. In pen, he has drawn a tic-tac-toe board. This is why this dude is my best friend. He understands why weddings are boring to the extreme.
Twenty intense games of tic-tac-toe later, the Speeches of Torture end and the food is set out. The guys and I all make our way to the long line. The food is delicious – I mentally dub that as the third best reason as to why this night isn’t that bad.
Two hours later, the chatter is beginning to die down as sleepy guests say their goodbyes and leave. My suit is starting to feel hot and itchy, so I take off the stupid jacket. I’m still stuck in my annoying button-down shirt and tie.
“Yo, Zak. Let’s get out of here, man.” I can’t sit in here without feeling like I’m encased in fabric from hell.
“God damn, yes. Let’s go into the lobby.” He takes off his jacket and we both walk out of the hall. The lobby is right outside, and I make my way over to one of the huge sofas. I loosen my tie and roll up my sleeves.
Zak collapses on another one of the sofas. I feel sleepy all of a sudden, so I text Noha and ask her to tell mom that I want to leave. She replies back a minute later, saying that she was in the bathroom and that she would call Mom.
“Hey, Adam? You know that one chick in our Spanish class?” Zak asks.
I think. “Uh…which one?”
“Dang, that one girl. Liana Peters? She started texting me the other day.”
Liana? The obnoxious brunette who chomps her gum all through class? “Why?”
Zak shrugs. “She said she wanted homework help. Hey, what’s up with that? Chicks always asking us for homework help. Like, you, I get. You’re great in Spanish. But I kind of suck at it.”
I shrug. “Who knows? But what do you think of her?”
Zak shrugs. “She’s kinda cute.”
I burst out laughing. “Zak, dude, what Liana are we talking about? Because the one in our Spanish class has the worst attitude I’ve ever seen on a chick.”
Zak scowls. “Chill, Adam. I don’t know. I think I like her.”
That sobers me up. “Whoa, you like Liana?”
Zak nods, then shakes his head. “I don’t know yet. She’s pretty funny when we text or talk in class. Pretty, too.”
I shake my head. “Don’t know, bro. But hey, if you think you like her, find out if you really do. But it’s not like you can do anything about it anyway.”
Zak sighs. “Yeah, I know. Don’t you sometimes wish you could just go for the girl you want?”
I think for a minute. “Yeah, actually. But that’s the whole test from Allah, Zak. If it was easy, there would be no point. And besides, if I dated the chick I want, you would have my head.”
It’s true, he’s so protective of Maysa. Before Zak can inquire what I mean or talk more about Liana, Noha shows up. “Mom says to start walking towards the car. Dad has Dawud and Mom is coming with Rubina.”
I nod and I’m about to say something when Maysa comes up behind Noha. She puts her finger to her lips and winks at me and Zak. Noha begins talking again. She slowly puts her arms around Noha’s ribs and at the last minute, squeezes her in a hug.
Noha jumps and shrieks, but before she can really do anything, Maysa flops down on the sofa beside me. The sofa dips from her weight. She’s half a foot away, but I can’t focus. I begin playing with my hands and my leg involuntarily starts jiggling up and down.
As the others talk around me, I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She looks stunning, like she always does, but the way she looks tonight hits me like a soccer ball to the chest. Her skin is shimmering, her chocolate brown eyes are twinkling, and her full lips are turned up in a blissful smile.
“Whatcha think, Adam?” Zakariya asks.
I snap back to attention. “What? Sorry, zoned off for a minute.” It’s the God-honest truth. Who wouldn’t when the prettiest girl in the world was sitting next to them?
“He just asked you if you wanted to join Key Club with me and Noha.” Her melodious voice fills my ears and I calm myself down before I look at her.
She’s looking at me expectantly, and my wishful thinking wants me to believe that she looks hopeful. But it’s all in vain. She could have any guy she wanted, and with a girl like her, my chances weren’t very high.
I nod at Zak. “Yeah. That would be cool. We should do it, bro.”
He nods and Noha and him resume talking.
As I think about the girl sitting next to me, Zakariya’s words echo in my head. “Don’t you sometimes wish you could just go for the girl you want?”
Yeah, I really wish I could. But reality tells me that she’s too good for me.