Salam! Hope all of you are in the best of health and faith. Enjoy and please let me know what you think!
"Screw men. Cheesecake is the only thing I need in my life." -- Noha Ali
Chapter 23
The Player Gets Told...Muslim-Girl Style
☻ Noha Ali ☻
The fat guy in front of us with about ten members of his family is holding up the line, to the point I can’t take it anyway. “Farahhh! I want French fries!” I whine.
Farah pats my head. “I’ll get them for you, Noh. What size do you want, you big ol’ fatty?” She pinches my cheek, at the detestable baby fat that I have.
I glare at her and pout. “I’m not fat, Farah.”
“Of course you’re not.” She says. I smile, until I see her not-so-discreetly exchange looks with Maysa, Sahanara, and Naomi.
“I saw that.” I say scathingly.
Maysa looks away, trying hard to not to burst out laughing. “Maysa.” I glare at her.
She widens her big eyes (that I totally wish I had). “What, Noha? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but you’re trying hard not to laugh. You look the same as the time I freaked out over riding that roller coaster. You, along with like…fifty other people were all trying not to laugh.”
She chuckles at the memory. “I’m sorry, but if anybody wasn’t laughing at your little meltdown, then they have no sense of humor. Real talk, bro.”
Sahanara pipes up, “Noha, I definitely have to agree with Maysa on that one. I mean, you got into the fetal position. Even Naomi doesn’t flip out that much.”
“Wait a minute…what is that supposed to mean?” Naomi’s face is defensive.
“Can you ladies please just order?” The pimply teenager behind the counter glares at us. The guy and his barrage of family members finally decided not to get Cokes or Sprites, settling for Fanta instead. Ya Allah.
“Calm down, man.” Naomi whispers underneath her breath.
“I’ll have a chicken salad.” Sahanara says. And so we all place our orders, while enduring the overall grumpiness of the guy behind the counter.
My face lights up like the little vanity mirror thing I got for my sixth birthday. “Ooh! Can I have a big slice of chocolate cheesecake?” I can’t help but bounce a little in joy at the thought of cheesecake.
“We don’t have chocolate cheesecake. Ran out an hour ago.” The dude’s voice is so bored, like he doesn’t care that they’re out. How can you NOT care about cheesecake? It’s cheesecake! That’s like saying…well that’s like saying all the Channing Tatum look-alikes in the world are taken. It’s heartless to say that monotonously!
“What other kinds do you have?”
The jerk isn’t even looking at me. His bored gaze is directed behind me, at the empty sitting area. “We have strawberry cheesecake.”
I look at Maysa for help. “Excuse me, but do you have any other kinds? She’s allergic to strawberries.” Hell yeah! My best friend has my back at all times. I smile at the thought of it.
“We have plain cheesecake.”
I sigh. I’m about to give in because I know that it’s not good to be that picky. There are people who don’t even have enough food to survive everyday and here I am, complaining because I don’t have the luxury of choosing between flavors of cheesecake! “I guess I’ll–”
Naomi interrupts me then, flipping her silk hair over her shoulder. “Excuse me,” She flashes a brilliant mega-watt smile. “Can you please check one more time? We would really, really appreciate it.” She looks at him from underneath her long lashes (courtesy of Maybelline).
The idiot of a cashier nods and walks to the back in a daze. “Gee, Naomi. Tone down the hotness.” I joke.
She grins and winks. “I bet you my pride that he’ll say they have some.” I nod; what else is there to bet? Betting is haram. Wait…can you bet on your pride in Islam? Darn….
I snap out of my thoughts when the cashier guy comes back. “Can you wait five minutes?” He’s talking to Naomi, not me. I resist the urge to wave a hand in front of his dazed face. He still hasn’t recovered from Naomi’s flirting.
After six agonizing minutes (not that I counted or anything), I’m finally holding the love of my life in my arms. Screw men; cheesecake is the only thing I need in my life.
Once all five of us settle into a cute little booth in a corner next to a window, Farah starts by saying, “Ok. So I’ve gathered you all here today to –”
Sahanara interrupts. “No offense, Far, but can you stop right there? You sound like you’re reading your will. That’s just creepy.”
Farah sighs. “Alright. Screw this. Look, basically, I feel like for the three years we’ve all gone toRiverside, there’s always been this really good religious and cultural understanding.”
She sighs and adjusts her hijab. “But there’s always that one troll who hates, or there are always these prejudices. So for the talent show, I want to showcase my designs…and the theme I guess will be modesty. Some ‘models’ will be wearing the hijab while others won’t. But do you guys kind of understand where I’m trying to get at?”
Sahanara is the first to speak. “Far, like I told you, I think the idea is great. It’s a good way of doing that Muslim ‘dawah’ thing you were trying to explain to me. You truly have an amazing talent, and it will be unique because usually everyone just sings or dances.”
“Ooh! Farah! You little genius, you!” I exclaim. “I love this idea! You’ll be doing dawah, you’ll show people that you can be modest and look good, and you’ll get amazing feedback on your designs!”
Maysa smiles. “Girl, you have the talent.”
Naomi pipes up, “Wait a minute. If this whole thing goes through, then can I model and wear that headscarf thing? Pleaseee, Far? I’ve always wondered what it felt like for all y’all Muslim girls.”
Farah laughs at Naomi’s request. “Of course, Naomi! But the thing is, I’m going to need a lot of help. I mean, first, I have to decide how many models I’m going to need first. Then, I have to make all the outfits and stuff. You guys will need your help. Oh! And we actually have to get models. Oh Allah, oh God. What did I just get myself into?”
Sahanara, the forever calm one, goes, “Farah, you have us to help you. You will be able to do all of this. You have plenty of people who would be happy to help. And we can always recruit our little siblings.”
Maysa nods. “Yeah, Far. And if you want like this runway thing built, or some other set, we can always recruit the guys to help us. I’ll even get Zak to do it, if I can.” I look up at her in surprise. She closes her eyes slowly and moves her chin up and down a fraction of an inch, this little ghost of a reassuring nod.
We all quiet down a little bit. There’s some noise and a clattering of trays being dropped firmly onto a table. I inconspicuously look over out of the corner of my eye.
“Oh my God…Greek gods!” Naomi squeals.
Maysa and Sahanara both look over as well. “Ew, I certainly hope not.” Sahanara exclaims. “Greek gods are all hairy.”
Farah cracks up and we do what most girls do in a situation like this. I pretend to look around the room, allowing my eyes to rest for a few milliseconds longer on the table a couple of feet away from ours.
“They’re actually not that bad looking.” Maysa grins as she admits this.
Sahanara makes a face. “Eh. I think the guy in the Superman blue shirt is the cutest. Probably like an eight.”
Farah shakes her head. “I like the one in the button-down shirt. You can never go wrong with a guy in a sensible button-down shirt. Aw, I bet he goes home and plays with his puppy while talking to his mommy. Yup, definitely the cutest out of the bunch.”
“Farah, I will never understand why you like good boys.” Naomi sighs.
“And Nai, I will never understand why you like bad boys.” Farah retorts.
“They’re a challenge. That’s why they’re sexy.” Naomi winks.
“Well you know…one’s preference is a direct symbolism of the person they are on the inside.” I state seriously, in a lame attempt to sound philosophical.
Sahanara thinks for a minute and then asks, “Did you get that from that one essay we read in class?”
I savor a bite of cheesecake. “No, I think I got it from a fortune cookie when I was nine.”
☮ ☮ ☮
Naomi and Sahanara both went home; the former to get ready for a date with Hayden, and the latter to help her mom set up for a family party. Farah and Maysa came over to my house to do homework (which they had both brought with them).
“Is your dad or Adam home?” Farah asks after I shut the door firmly behind us.
“No, I don’t think so. You guys can take your jackets and stuff off.”
“Oh, thank Allah.” Maysa mutters. “This jacket is killing my arm circulation.” She tears off her leather jacket to reveal a sleeveless floral top.
Farah takes off her jacket as well and begins to unpin her hijab. “You know, Far, if I didn’t believe in the concept of the hijab, I think you were crazy for covering up that luscious black hair.” Maysa admits.
Farah laughs. “Jazak’Allah, but Maysa, your hair is even more gorgeous than mine. Anyway, ok, so can we talk a little bit?”
“No.” Maysa says with a straight face. “I prefer to sit here in silence, contemplating whether zebras are white with black stripes or black with white stripes.”
Farah shoots Maysa a mock glare. “I appreciate it, Mays. But this is serious. It kind of is concerned with Adam and Zak.”
My ears instantly perk up. I’m more concerned with what is going on with Zakariya. “Ok. Wallahi, I don’t wish to gossip. I just think that in this situation, it’s important for me to tell you guys. But please don’t tell anybody this.”
Maysa nods. “Far, you know that we would never violate your trust. And we know you. Mashallah you try your best to avoid idle talk. Now go on.”
Farah rubs her temples with her fingers. “Shazia’s trying to help her friend Sumrana get Zakariya. That girl really likes him and I have a feeling that she’s going to stir up trouble if someone or something doesn’t convince her not to soon.”
“Damn it…” Maysa mutters. “But come on, it’s Zak. I don’t think he’s in the girl state of mind at the moment.”
Farah’s face takes on a dark look. “I wish I could say that. It’s true he doesn’t seem concerned with girls at the moment…but him and Sumrana are…”
“What?!”
Farah holds up her hands. “Whoa, there! Breathe.” Me and Maysa exchange glances of alarm. I breathe. Allah, please just give Zakariya Your guidance. He’s not in the best of places at the moment but we know that he’s a good person.
“Him and Sumrana are talking. Gosh, I don’t even know where your little haram minds went.” She mutters darkly. I laugh and throw a pillow at her. “But she’s really determined to get Zakariya to be her boyfriend. And he’s not keeping the best of company lately.” Maysa nods and rubs her eyes, rocking back and forth as she sits.
I hug Maysa. “It’ll be ok, Mays. Trust me.” But the words feel hollow.
She looks up, her face tired. “I don’t even know right now. I don’t even know who the hell my brother is anymore.” She looks down. “WHY?!” Farah and I jump and look over at her. Outbursts aren’t a Maysa thing to do. Maysa doesn’t look at either of us. She focuses her attention on her hands, and the room stills, the only sounds coming from outside, from the Atkinson kids running around in their front yard, those faint sounds that are far away and in the background, like the hum of a refrigerator.
“See, every day, I seriously wonder why. Seriously, why is he like the way he is? He won’t talk to me. He won’t talk to our parents. He just comes home, doesn’t say anything, and stays up in his room. Then, I never see him around school. I don’t even know what the hell is wrong with him.”
Farah looks up. “Maysa, sometimes it’s easier to shut out someone that means the world to you if it means avoiding hurting them. I’ve known you and Zakariya for four years. Noha has known her longer than that. We know that Zakariya is a great person, mashallah. He’s not doing this to hurt you. I think he’s doing it to avoid hurting you.”
Maysa focuses her glassy eyes at the pictures on my wall. “It’ll be ok.” I whisper again. “I believe in you, no matter what, I’ll be by your side, I believe in you and everything’s going to be alright.”
Farah catches my eye and smiles widely. “Jay Sean said that, Mays. And it’s true.”
Maysa whips around to face me and a smile blossoms on her face. “Noh!” She attacks me in a hug so hard that I fall back, taking her down with me. “Far!” She grabs Farah next and hugs her hard as well.
When we all pull away, the happiness radiates from Maysa’s face. “You know why I love you guys? It’s because whenever I’m upset, you guys always say the right thing. And the fact that you quoted Jay Sean makes it ten times more special.”
I grin and get over to make my way over to my boom box. “Alright. It’s Jay Sean time!” I pop in a CD and within seconds his beautiful voice is describing a girl he’s in love with.
“Oh my God.” Farah breathes. “Major swoon right now.”
“I know, right?” I murmur. The song gets to an instrumental part. Then, a few seconds later, Jay Sean’s amazing vocals pour out of my speakers, soft words echoing in my quiet room.
“Does he really know you like I know you, all the little things? Does he really love you like I love you, how can he compete? If he makes me fight for you, die for you, would he do the same? Baby this is turning into way more than a game…”
Don’t love songs make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside? I mean, love is such a powerful emotion. What would it be like to experience it? To have a clean, halal relationship with someone you trust enough to confess your dreams, desires, wants, and needs to?
We all kind of sit there, immersed in our own thoughts. “So I’ve been thinking about something lately.”
“Yeah?” Maysa teases.
“Oh shut up. But it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. You know how they say that love and hate are both strong emotions? Like, powerful emotions?”
Far nods. “Yup.”
“So…why do we casually say that we love or hate something? It doesn’t do justice to the emotion if we just say ‘Oh, I fell in love with Peeta from the Hunger Games’ or if we say ‘I hate people that talk too much’. You know? Like…it just sounds weird now that I think about it.”
Maysa’s forehead creases as she thinks about it. “I see what you’re saying. I think part of it is the fact that we’re in surroundings that use the words casually. That’s no excuse though.”
Farah nods. “I agree with you. Love especially is such a powerful emotion and using it to describe a random celebrity is like decreasing the value and worth of the feeling. And that’s not fair because Allah gifted us with the ability to love and we just throw it around like it’s nothing. I think we should make a conscious effort to eliminate that type of usage from your vocabulary.” She pauses, and then groans. “This is going to be really hard though.”
I sigh. “I know. But any struggle to better ourselves is better than ignorance.”
Maysa grins. “Look at you being all philosophical, especially after your failed attempt at it when Naomi and Farah were talking about boys. Good job, knucklehead.”
I glare and throw a cushion at her. I’m not really insulted; only true best friends playfully put you down to build you up.
☮ ☮ ☮
I swear I didn’t mean to snoop. When I was using the family computer, I didn’t know whose Skype account was open. In confusion, I accidentally read Rubina’s IMs, which she had left on the screen. And I seriously almost wish I didn’t read them.
RubsAndPearls: can’t wait for the dance!!!
Ally20771: I know! what r u wearing?
RubsandPearls: this awesome dress my sister found. it’s black.
Ally20771: I bet Levi will love it!
RubsandPearls: OMG Ally u kno I can’t date.
Ally20771: so? you like him, right? look good 4 him!
The conversation ends there. Oh my God. My little sister likes some kid?! Déjà vu hits me. It’s like Xan all over again. And this vicious, soul-sucking cycle is striking again. What has she done? Can I trust her? She’s a good kid, Noha. Unlike you. The truth hurts and I wince.
“How much longer will you be on the computer?” My dad’s voice makes me jump.
“Not much longer, Daddy. I just have to look up something really quick.” I flash him a smile and he nods and tells me he’ll wait.
I know what I need to do. I log out for Rubina. I don’t want to get my parents involved unless it’s something serious. I look up the stats I need to and quickly leave.
“Computer’s open.” I call to my dad as I rush over to where Rubina’s room is. I stop outside her door and pause, listening. She’s talking on the phone. I gently knock and she immediately stops talking. “Rubs?” I open the door. “When you’re done, can I talk to you for a few minutes?” She nods and mumbles something to whoever is on the other line.
She hangs up. “Yeah, Noha?” She sounds casual but she’s fidgeting and playing with her charm bracelet.
I sit down on her bed. “So…” I don’t know where to start, so I finally just go, “Rubs, next time log out of your Skype, ok?”
Her face immediately turns red. “Noh—”
I hold up a hand. “I’m not mad at you, Rubina. Rather, if you’re mad at me for reading those IMs, I’m really sorry. But I just want to talk about it with you openly, alright?”
She nods and looks down. I can tell this sounds awkward for her. “So…who’s Levi?”
She whips her head up. “I…he…um, he’s this kid in school.”
I nod. “What’s he like?” Oh my God I’m failing at this. I would make a sucky parent.
“Funny, smart.” She peeks up at me. “Cute.”
I grin. “Sounds like a cutie. Rubs, you know we can’t date, right?”
She nods. “Why can’t we date?” I prompt.
She thinks and then shrugs. “Dang, that’s really important for you to know, Rubs. Ok, so in Islam we can’t date because we believe in waiting for a special someone, and remaining pure until marriage. Halal love is the best kind of love, Rubs.”
She nods again. “That makes sense.”
“I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with being attracted to someone. It’s just that…well, you have to maintain a strong iman because that attraction is just a test in time. It doesn’t matter if it works out or not. What matters is how you deal with it.”
She nods again. “See, Rubina, I want you to grow up and not regret what you have done at this age. That’s why even though you’ll make mistakes, always try to better yourself.” I get another silent nod. “Rubs, are you friends with this Levi guy?”
She shakes her head. “He’s in three of my classes. I just think he’s really cute. I told Ally that and she asked me if I like him. So…” She glances at me shyly. “I said I did like him. And she said that the dance would be a good way to get to know him because he’s going too.”
“Whoa there!” I say in alarm. “You’re going to the dance for a boy?!”
“No! No, no, Noha. Well, sort of….”
I sigh and say gently, “Rubina, never do anything with the wrong intentions. Go to have fun, not to impress some guy.”
She nods. “Ok. Um…are you going to tell Mom or Dad? Please don’t! You know how they would get if they knew!”
I laugh. “Don’t worry. I have faith that you’ll make the right choices. Just remember, sticking it out is worth the wait. I mean, I don’t want to belittle your liking him or anything, but Allah forbid that you do make a mistake. In two or maybe even in one year from now, he won’t mean anything to you. So it’s not worth doing anything for a boy, get what I’m saying?”
She nods and fidgets with the huge teddy bear Adam and I won for her at the carnival last year. “Noh? Have you ever liked a boy?”
I smile painfully at her. “Yes, I have, kiddo. And one day, I want to be able to tell you the whole story.”
“You mean you can’t tell me now? Who is he? What happened?” Her questions hit me like bullets.
“He was a boy I knew in middle school. It didn’t end too well. And I don’t want you to make the same mistake, Rubs. You’re too good to go through what I went through.”
Her eyes are wide and she nods. “Wow, Noh. I never thought you were such a…bad girl.”
I can’t help it; I laugh long and loud. “Rubs, you’re hilarious. What, you think I had the whole red bandana and black leather jacket thing going on?”
She blushes. “Well, not exactly.” I laugh again.
“Ok, but is it possible to fall in love at a young age? Like…can you fall in love with someone now and it would be true love and everything?” I muse over her question, looking out the window, looking at the sidewalk where afternoon runners take their lazy jogs.
“Well, Mom met Dad when she was nineteen. And they got married when she was twenty. And allhamdulillah they are doing great, aren’t they? You can still see the love in their eyes whenever they look at each other.”
Rubina nods. “Yeah, but can you like, fall in love with a childhood best friend and marry them and live happily ever after and stuff?” I shoot her a look and am about to ask her where she’s coming from but she beats me to it. “Wallahi I don’t have anybody I think I’m in love with. I’m just wondering because it’s in the movies and stuff.”
I laugh, amused at the innocence of my little sister. I wonder when she’s going to see the hard reality of what this world is really like. Part of me doesn’t want her to, but the other part knows she will have to. “Those movies are distortions of reality, Rubs. Yes, it’s possible that you can fall in love with someone who is your childhood best friend. But at the same time, it’s also good to keep your options open. There’s a world beyond this, beyond school. You might meet someone in college or when you get into the real world, or maybe you may fall in love with someone you know now. The future is something we don’t know. Only Allah does.”
Rubina nods. “That makes sense. One more question.”
I sigh in mock annoyance. “God, child.” I widen my eyes and then grin. “Nah, just kidding. Go on, I really don’t mind.”
“How come you’re like…so ok with admitting that you made a mistake but you can’t tell me what it is?”
I sigh and rub my eyes; I knew this would come up. “It’s not that I can’t tell you. It’s that I want. And Rubina, another thing. Never let your pride get in the way of admitting when you’re wrong. Anyone with a drop of ego will not even see the gates of Jannah. Remember that.”
“But everyone has pride, Noha. It’s not something you can just like…eliminate.”
I shake my head. “No, Rubina. That’s not pride. That’s dignity. You should have dignity. Dignity is when you respect yourself and are confident in yourself. Pride is when you have confidence that you’re better than everyone else and can do nothing wrong. There is a huge difference between the two.”
She nods, and her face lights up as she gets it. I drop a kiss on her forehead.
I don’t know when her childhood innocence melted into inquisitiveness, but I wish I did.
I no longer see a young girl with her hair in two messy braids sitting in front of me. I now see a young woman, eyes wide and curious about the ways of this world.
☮ ☮ ☮
I walk out of Rubina’s room, swearing to myself that I would dedicate more time to Rubina, no matter how many stacks of homework I have. As I walk back into my room, I hear my phone ring. It’s a text message from a person whose name makes my face curve to a semi-scowl. Josh the Player.
Ugh. I have to meet up with him for our stupid tutoring thing. His message reads: Me, you, library at five.
I search around my room for the clock on my wall. It says that it is four right now. Asr is in…well, it’s now actually.
Gotta ask my parents. Hold on.
I hit send and hurry off to make wudhu. I come back out and grab a prayer rug and a long hijab. I collect my thoughts and center my attention before I raise my hands to begin my prayer.
“Subhana-kala-humma wa bee humdika…”
I don’t even begin to recite the first surah of the Quran when my phone starts blasting. Jesse McCartney’s voice blares out of my phone’s tiny speaker.
Why is it that whenever I pray, my phone has to act like the ultimate distraction? I can’t even do anything but recite the prayers louder in my head to lessen the distraction of Jesse’s voice and the curiosity of what Josh texted back.
I remain firm with myself throughout the prayer and try my best not to get distracted. To help my concentration, I close my eyes and try to block everything out except for what I’m saying and who I am saying it to.
After I am done praying, I check my phone to see what Josh texted back.
Hurry up. I have stuff to do after our “tutoring” session. It’ll take like 10 mins
I roll my eyes at his cockiness. What an annoying jerk. “Ma?” I call. She’s walking out of Adam’s room with a basket full of dirty laundry.
“Yes?”
“Can I head to the library really quick? It’s for a tutoring session.”
“Did you pray Asr?” She asks with all her Muslim motherly concern.
I smile. “Yes, Mother. I just prayed Asr.”
She nods. “Good girl. You’ll be home in time for Maghrib, right? Actually, get home thirty minutes before Maghrib. You shouldn’t be outside at sunset.”
I nod. “Ok, ma!” I quickly send Josh a text saying that I would be there in fifteen minutes.
I amble off to my room to change. I grab a pair of skinnies and a plain long-sleeved shirt. When I’m dressed, I look in my full-length mirror and nod in approval. My top is nice and covers everything, even when I bend down (I totally did the air test, which is when you bend down and make sure no air can be felt down your shirt).
I turn around and pull on some socks. I catch a look at my bent over self in my mirror and almost fall back in shock. The shape of my butt is very…well-defined. When did that happen?! I’m sure I wore this outfit a couple of months ago and it was modest.
With my back to the mirror, I turn around and survey my backside. There is no way I’m walking outside looking like that. I rummage around in my closest and grab the longest cardigan I can find. I put it on and bend down, surveying myself in the mirror. Ok, good. My butt’s completely covered now. Thank God I didn’t walk outside of the house looking that immodest.
Grabbing my bike from the garage, I cycle outside, loving the feel of cool wind on my cheeks. As I make the ten minute ride to the library, I feel amazed at the symphony of nature all around me. How the vibrant colors of the flowers compliment the lushness of the grass. Even as an artist, I know I can never depict the sheer brilliancy of Allah’s creations on paper. His creations surpass my ability to capture them.
I lock up my bike on the bike rack and head inside. I survey the tables and see that Josh isn’t here. Why am I not surprised?
Where are you?
I know my text is tinged with irritation. Seriously, I’m sitting here, and he doesn’t even bother to show up on time? I hear the automatic doors of the library slide open but I don’t look up, not even when I hear sauntering footsteps approaching me.
“Noha.” His voice is laden with ego and cockiness, like it always is.
“Josh.” I nod once, channeling in my inner strong woman when I see him smirking at me knowingly. Seriously, he looks like he’s one of those jocks in those horrible made-for-TV movies. The ones that make me want to backhand them.
“You’re early. Just couldn’t wait to see me?”
I nod. “Yes, that’s it. Now can we just get this tutoring session done and be over with it?”
“Why?” He asks innocently. “You don’t want to….savor this moment with me? I’m a pretty busy guy, you know.”
I breathe in again. Religion is defined as never getting angry. The Prophet’s saying echoes in my head even though I want to take my hands, bring them to Josh’s hair in the least haram way possible, and rip his head off.
“You know, sometimes you don’t even seem real. You’re much too delusional to be taken seriously.”
His smirk doesn’t change. It stays on his face. “Playing hard to get isn’t going to help, Noha.”
“Josh, I don’t want to argue. We’re here to tutor each other. I have a Precalc homework problem that I want you to show me how to do.”
Josh leans back, hands folded back behind his head, staring at me, thinking about something. “You’re an interesting person, Noha. Pretty girls like you usually have personalities of a piece of toast. But you actually have something to you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I like that. It’s hot.”
I slam my folder down. “Oh my GOD!” He looks caught off guard at my whispered outburst. “Josh, shut the hell up for five minutes. I just want to tutor you–” His growing smile makes me shoot him a glare. “Tutor you in something purely academic, pervert.”
He sighs. “Fine. Let’s go. Hit me with that problem.”
I take out the sheet of paper where I neatly recopied the problem. “Matrices. What the hell is Gaussian elimination?”
He laughs. “Oh my God. Gaussian elimination? You think I have a clue? Girl, I have people who do my homework for me.”
“Thank you for your help, Josh. You now have ten seconds to Google what Gaussian elimination is before I leave your sorry arse here without signing that paper you need to get credit. Your time starts…now.”
Josh stares at me in astonishment. Then he cracks a smile. “Damnnn, girl! You have some sass to you.”
“Josh. NOW.” I try my best to act scary-serious.
He slowly pulls out his iPhone and begins to Google Gaussian elimination. I drum my fingers on the table. “Hurry up.”
“It’s…oh! I know what this is. Ok, hand me a pencil.” I’m about to ask him why he would show up to a tutoring session without a damn pencil but I’m tired of arguing with him so I let it go and comply to his request.
“Ok, so first cancel out the x term of the bottom equation. You would have to add the first and third equation together. Got that?”
I nod. He nods back and continues writing. I guess so that I can better see the paper, he moves a little closer. He doesn’t seem to notice the closer proximity of our bodies, but I do; involuntarily, my eyes snap up to his face. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and he doesn’t have his usual smirk. I suddenly catch a whiff of his cologne. Jesus, I think to myself. I discreetly put some distance between the two of us before he realizes how close we are.
I go back to concentrating on what he’s saying. He’s actually pretty good at explaining it. “Got it?”
I nod. “Yes, I get it now. Thanks. Anything you need?”
“Nothing I need. Something I want though.” He looks at me suggestively.
“Would you like a pat on the back for explaining this to me?”
He laughs. “Would it involve us touching?” He widens his deep blue eyes and winks.
“No.” I grumble and tuck my hands under my thighs to get the point across.
“Baby, you know you like me. Ever since the first day you saw me at the mall. Admit it, that was fate.”
“Fate’s been cruel to me then.” I shoot back.
He puts his hand on his chest. “That hurts right here. Can you see the heartbreak?” I shoot him a glare and shake my head. “Lean a little closer.”
I rub my temples and try not to scream at how obnoxious he is. “I doubt that’ll help. You have no heart to break.”
He shoots me a look of appreciation. “Damn, even I have to admit that that was pretty good. You know what makes you so cute? Your wit. I have to admit you’re not really like any of the other girls I’ve met before or gone to school with.”
I try my best not to get flattered by his compliment. At least he didn’t mistake my ‘wit’ for flirting. Thank God.
“Is it because the idea of a girl not liking you is incomprehensible to you, Joshie?” I ask sweetly.
He runs a hand through his blonde-brown hair. It makes me feel weird, in a way I can’t explain. “Honestly, I think it is. I’m not really used to girls not liking me after we’ve talked for as long as we have.”
“Josh, I’m not saying this to like, make fun of you, but I don’t think you seem to realize that I’m definitely not interested in you nor will I ever be.” I make my tone as gentle as possible; he’s annoying, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. “I know you don’t really like me, it’s just that you don’t like the fact that I’m a straight girl that isn’t attracted to you. Get what I’m saying, homie?” I add the last part in there for God knows what reason. Man, I’m such an idiot when I ramble. And on top of that, I give him a friendly punch when I say homie. Ya Allah.
He looks at me in surprise. “You’re…the first girl who’s said that to me.”
I laugh. “It’s the truth. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re a cool guy and your…semi-good qualities make up for how obnoxious you are.”
“Ok. Thanks for that.” He grins. Yes, he grins! He doesn’t smirk this time. I think it’s the revolutionary breakthrough of the millennium.
“You know…your confidence is what provokes me to keep making the comments and hitting on you.”
“Oh.” I say dumbfounded.
He nods. “Yeah.” We sit there staring at each other. He sounds sincere enough.
“Noha?” I snap out of it and look up to see Farah staring at both of us in surprise, her eyebrows raised.
“Hi, Farah!” I say brightly.
“Is this the infamous Josh?” She asks, amused.
“Noha, you talk about me? I didn’t know you liked me that much.” Josh smirks, and I can see the humor in his eyes.
“Keep dreaming, Player.” I turn my attention to Farah again. “How’s the thing for the fashion show going?”
She exhales deeply. “I don’t even know what I’ve gotten myself into. I just realized that I have five minutes to do the whole thing. That means all the models have to work in perfect synch. I was thinking about talking to Adam on Monday. And maybe any of his friends that would be willing to help out.”
I nod. “Yeah, that would be great. I think Adam would love to do it.”
“Hey…I don’t mean to butt in or anything but did you just say that you were doing a fashion show?” Josh rubs his neck and looks up at Farah, waiting for her to respond.
Farah sits down. “Yeah. It’s for a talent show at our school. And I’m trying to figure out how to do it in two and a half months.”
Josh smiles at her. “Can people that don’t go to your school help out?”
Farah stares at Josh in surprise. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
“I’m willing to offer my services.” He smirks at her.
Laughing, Farah responds, “Aw, that’s so nice of you! I don’t know why Noha always calls you annoying.” I huff and glare at her and she winks.
Josh leans in closer. “You wanna know why?”
“Enlighten me, Josh.” Farah plays along.
He whispers, completely ignoring me, “It’s because she’s scared to fall for my charms.”
Farah nods solemnly. “I think you’re right.”
“Excuse me!” They both look at me. “I’m right here, Josh. And I know you. Well, I sort of know you. What is your real motive for wanting to help out?”
He widens his eyes innocently and I notice that Josh uses his eyes to look more convincing in whatever he’s saying. Damn. Smart move. Because it’s actually kind of making me believe he wants to help out just to be nice. “Whatever makes you think that I have an ulterior motive, Noha?”
My dark glare makes him smile in glee at my negative reaction. “Ok, frankly, I wouldn’t mind meeting some girls at your school.” I roll my eyes; of course he would want to do it to meet girls.
“Fine. I guess that’ll take care of our tutoring sessions. We can just do it during rehearsals or whatnot.”
Josh nods. “Seriously, do we even have to have tutoring sessions? I mean, what’s the point?”
I look at him in surprise – does he really not know? “Josh, it’s part of our grade in math. Math isn’t exactly my forte. So yes, this credit is really important to me.”
“It’s a grade?” Josh asks.
Farah and I nod. “Yes, it’s a grade.” Farah confirms.
“But…but I didn’t bother turning in the last two!” He stammers out.
I crack up. “Man, Player. Aren’t you screwed?”
Now it’s his turn to glare while I smirk. “Forget it.”
“Josh, how are you going to help out with the fashion show? I mean, I’m considering male models, but mostly I just need someone who knows what the hell they’re doing.”
Josh runs a hand through his hair. “I picked up some stuff from my mom over the years.”
Confused, I blurt out, “Your mom?”
“She’s a fashion designer. Gemma Reyes. She used to bring me to her fashion show dress rehearsals so I kinda just…picked up stuff over the years I guess.” Josh begins to turn red as he admits his acquired knowledge.
Farah’s mouth has dropped open in shock. “Your mother is…Gemma Reyes? Holy…fishnets.”
Josh grins and looks like he’s imagining something. “I like fishnets.” Ew…pervert.
“There’s a great sale going on at Abercrombie. Buy two fishnet stockings and get the third one…free!” I smile sweetly at him when he shoots me a glare.
“Wait, I’m sorry. I just can’t get over this. Your mother is Gemma Reyes.” Josh nods in amusement and Farah’s disbelief. “God damn. She’s a bloody awesome designer.” Josh looks proud at the compliment.
“Yeah, she’s amazing.” He agrees.
“Ok, then! Thanks for volunteering to help Josh. Noha will let you know when it’s time for our first rehearsal, alright?” He runs his hands through his hair again and once again, I feel something weird nag at me, something that disrupts my mood.
“Alright. Noha will let me know. Right Noha?” I give him a flat look.
“Nice meeting you, Josh! Bye! Bye, Noha.” I wave as she walks off.
Josh and I sit in silence for a few seconds. He breaks it by saying, “So…you’ve really talked about me?”
My resulting look is enough to make him shut up.
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Opinions? What would you have done in Noha's place if you caught your little sister liking a boy?
Remember: Always work towards a better you. Don't compare yourself to anyone but the person you once were and the person you want to be.
Much love,
ashie ♥