Nabeel stuttered as he began his attempt to explain his past. I smiled at him reassuringly, aware of how stressful it was to reveal buried secrets. I had never done it myself, but I had come quite close to it on many occasions.
"When I was... Uh... Around 15 or 16, I began to feel the pressure that society has placed on teenagers to be cool, fit in and have the high life. My friends were... Umm.. I guess... Uh... Not the best type for a growing Muslim boy, and I began to succumb to what they wanted."
I couldn't help but notice how cute his stutter was. It meant he cared enough about what I thought about him.
"So anyways, I joined this clique and they were pretty tight before I came, so I had a hard time trying to fit in. The first time they asked me to come to one of their group events I was quite hesitant because I knew that my parents wouldn't approve and I would have to sneak out. I wasn't very smart or street wise back then, and I told them about how strict my parents were. They laughed and told me that their parents would phone mine to ask for permission. From that I assumed that it was an innocent get-together, and my parents thought so too. When I got there, though, the house was full of girls and boys, all Muslim, dressed in indecent, revealing clothes. I wondered how my friend's parents were okay with such a party, and even with hosting it."
I watched him with curiosity as I saw his eyes mist with a mixture of tears and regret, and wondered what he must be feeling inside.
Nabeel's POV
I knew Husna was going to judge me but I was also aware that this information had to be given. My mind reeled, remembering the night when I had lost my innocence, dreams and dignity