Dedicated to cuteparry since she is the only person who seems to be suggesting ideas. Thanks for your support.
***
Yes. Please hurry.
As stupid as I am, I listen to Nick's orders and head to the park after throwing on a sweatshirt and sneakers. I know that I'll some point have to run from him, so sneakers are an ideal thing to have. So is my cell phone, which I put in my pocket. I already know that he'll get it away from me, but I have a feeling that he'll spare me.
He told me many intimate and private things about his life. He wouldn't just tell someone who he'll kill anyway--there must be a reason as to why he entrusted me on this. It almost makes me feel special, despite the fact that I'm heading to a potential life-or-death situation.
And of course, I sneak from the house because I know that Dad will tell me to rest. He saw me frazzled after that dream; he knows that something's wrong. And Mom, having the motherly care she has, will tell me to take a nap since I've been skating for over two hours. Georgia, of course, will have sided with my parents.
After we got home it had been raining, washing away the remaining snow on the ground. But there are still patches of mushy, dirty snow. The air smells like rainwater, damp yet comforting. My feet pad over the sidewalk, making squishy sounds as I step in puddles. I cross the street and walk a few more yards to the park. I notice a black van with tinted windows parked behind the same park bench Nick and I sat on that one heart-shattering day.
I decide to turn back, realizing how stupid I was for coming in the first place. My breath quickens as I cross the street and get back into the neighborhood. I hear footsteps behind me. This is like my dream all over again, but this is the real deal. It's actually happening.
I continue walking in a normal pace. I know that I am not hallucinating, because I can actually here someone talk. The only words I catch are, "Boss...that girl...hoodie..." I act as if I am oblivious to all of this. But I'm pretty sure they know that I know who they are and what they do.
I turn a corner and the same heavy footsteps follow me. I keep my breath steady, trying to mask the fear that is already building up inside me. My back stiffens as I imagine a group of men at my heels, ready to shove me in a tote bag and throw me into the black van, then take me to a secret underground compound. And then I imagine Nick holding a gun, pointed at my temple, talking to my parents over the phone ominously saying that they pay up a good ten thousand dollars.
I watch too many movies.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and on instinct, I turn around, keeping my eyes on the ground.
"Excuse me ma'am. Have you seen this girl before?" A man hands me a picture of a girl with red-brown hair and sharp green eyes, but not like the sea-green eyes of Nick nor Keith. My heart skips a beat, (in a panicked way, not the lovey-dovey way), as I instantly realize that it is me. I wonder how they got my picture. It looks like a school picture cut from a yearbook.
I shake my head. "No sir," I reply in a deeper voice than necessary.
"Thank you for your time. Here's our number if you see her anytime soon." He seizes the picture of me and hands me a card with a number on it. I tuck it in my pocket along with my phone.
"Uh, why exactly? What's so important about her?" I ask hesitantly.
The guy clears his throat. "Our boss requested her. Some type of interview, I guess," he drawls.
Another guy says, "Karl, I think we've spoken to her long enough." Even though I can't see his face or he'll recognize me, I know that he nods in response. "Have a good day, ma'am."
"Thanks, you too." And with that, they stalk off. I run all the way home. That was super close. I breathe heavily once I reach the front door. I open it slowly, and I see Mom leaning against a wall, her arms crossed over her chest.
"What were you doing outside?" she questions me carefully.
"I've...I took a walk, that's all."
"Why are you sweating?"
"I was afraid it'll rain and then I'll have a fever which you certainly be disappointed at me for if that ever happened," I respond almost too quickly. "So I ran the rest of the way home." My voice wavers.
She sighs. "Honey, go rest. And from now on, you tell me when you'll go outside, okay?" she asks tersely as if I'm six years old. "Next time I won't be as lenient."
I nod. "Yup. I'm gonna go rest." I walk around her and climb the stairs, taking two at a time. I fall on my bed as soon as I enter my room, and my breathing is now steady. I take off my sneakers and sweatshirt, hot and exhausted.
The last thing I here before I go to sleep is, "Kayla Anna McGrady! Get your butt here right now and clean up this mess! You tracked mud on my carpets!"
***
After I wake up from my long nap, my mind is foggy and one thing keeps popping in my head: the last text Nick sent me. He wrote please. Is that a sign, or an indication, that he somehow is not trying to get me to join his group? That he'll spare me? I highly doubt it; he sent two guys after me.
To clear my head of all thoughts and to be more alert, I get out the copy of the translation of the Qur'an. I lock my door, and then flip to the page I've stopped reading. I read a couple of chapters and soon feel that I have missed something. I glance at the paper I printed out that has all the prayer times for December. I face-palm myself and realize I forgot to pray.
I make wudhu, trying to hurry but still perform the ablution correctly. I throw on my socks, the long black dress which I now learned is called an abaya, and a hijab. I raise my hands and say "Allahu Akbar", trying to ignore the fact that I am forty minutes late for the Dhuhr prayer.
After I finish, I sit on the prayer rug and put my hands, palms up, in front of me. I whisper, "Oh Allah, please help me through this situation. Please protect me, my family, and friends from any danger that will come our way. You are the Best-Planner; you surely will outsmart...them. Ameen," I conclude hesitantly. I am so scared now that I didn't even mention their names in the du'aa.
Someone knocks on my door. "Sweetie, can I come in?" Mom inquires.
"Uh, no! I, uh, I'm...I need to clean my room!" I take off my hijab, abaya, and socks. I throw my clothes and the prayer rug in my closet and shut the door. I put the translation of the Qur'an back to its place on my bookshelf just as Mom opens the door.
She looks around and shrugs her shoulders. "It looks okay to me."
"That's because I just cleaned up." I can't believe I'm lying to my own mother through my teeth.
"Lunch is ready. Did you have a nice nap?"
I nod my head. "I feel better now." I follow my mom to the kitchen after making sure my door is closed. Everyone else is already there, and Georgia passes out Subway sandwiches around the table. My heart flutters because Subway has got to be THE best sub restaurant.
I sit next to Dad and ask him, "What do I have?"
"The usual. A chicken teriyaki sub with lettuce, mayo, onions, and cheese." I nod appreciatively and whisper "Bismillah" quietly before digging into my sub. Per usual, some of the mayonnaise and lettuce fall on the paper in front of me. I sigh as I look around and notice everybody eating without difficulty.
My phone vibrates next to my thigh. Mom has a strict rule of not answering the phone while eating. Maybe she'll cut me some slack now that Dad and Georgia are here. "Can you guys excuse me? I gotta take this." I hold up my phone. Mom nods, and I walk into the dining room and say in a low whisper, "Hello?"
I didn't bother to look at the caller ID. I hear Nick on the other end. "Kayla, I told you to meet me there! And now you blew me off!"
"Blew you off?" I ask incredulously. "Why would I even go in the first place? I know the real you. I will not let you use me the way have used others. And don't act as if I'm oblivious. I know you sent some of your men to look out for me. They even showed me a picture of myself. And...why do want to meet me? I have nothing to do with you now!"
"You surely do," he says furiously. "You've gotten me in more trouble now that you know. My boss will kill me if he knows I didn't get what he needed."
"Your boss? I thought you were...and what did your 'boss' want from me?"I breathe heavily.
He sighs. "I'll tell you another time. And yes, I work for someone else." I hear metal clang with metal in the background. "Kayla, I'll call you later."
He hangs up, leaving me to wonder what just happened during our brief conversation. I am so confused and angry I just want to--gosh, I have to calm down. Allah will surely help me through this. For every hardship there is relief, I whisper, going back into the kitchen.
I finish my sub, trying to push all thoughts aside of the strange and short conversation I had with Nick. It sounded like he's in trouble, but I don't give a damn. I have nothing to do with him.
"Kayla, we have something important to discuss with you." Mom looks at me with her eyebrows raised. I instantly think of all the bad things I've done the past month. Oh. Maybe she found out that I was sneaking out too much.
"Okay." I continue eating my sub, the flavor of the teriyaki tingling on my tongue.
"Stop eating and please listen to me for a minute," Mom snaps impatiently.
I chew on my food and swallow, every eye turned to me.
"Thank you," Mom says brusquely. "Anyways, I have been noticing that there has been a change in your behavior. Like the thing you mentioned in the hospital the other day."I remember Mom's grim lips, telling me no, that I she doesn't want me to be Muslim, and I respect that. But I'm already Muslim--what's the point of turning back anwyway?
"So I'm...grounded?" I ask timidly, leaving my sandwich to sit on the paper wrap in front of me.
"Not quite. It all started when you became familiar with your current school. I think we should go back to finding Catholic schools, honey. It'll be better for you. And I've also heard about that fight a few weeks ago between those two girls... I don't want you ending up like them."
"Mom, I am not that absorbent of my surroundings. I can handle my actions. I perfectly assimilate with my new friends and school, but I only separate myself from the things that I feel will give me a negative impact." Like Nick. And Stephanie.
"I understand that, but I have friends who have children who utterly disbehave. They are disobedient, rude, loud-"
"Mom," I interrupt. "I thought the deal was that I stay at Churning Bay as long as I get good grades, which so far I am. And, take my word for it, I will not come home with a tattoo on my armpit or nose piercings. I'm not like some of the people there. Besides, there are only a few. I'm just about cool and relatable with everyone else."
She sighs, rubbing her temples in circles with her index fingers. She seems stressed, worn out; how a mother looks when trying to work hard to get her children's best environment to interact in. Now that I am not a Catholic but rather a Muslim, there's a problem, no doubt. I cannot, and will not, go to a school with different principles than Islam because I'm trying to learn Islamic principles. But Mom doesn't get it, since she doesn't know who I really am.
"We'll talk about this more in private," is all she says before getting up from her spot next to Kara and leaves, silence blanketing us. Georgia wraps a hand around my own and I let the warmth seep through me, comfort me while I try to escape this reality and live the fantasy.
My sub suddenly seems to look less appealing. I offer it to Dad who takes it knowingly. I pad upstairs to my room, leaving Dad, Georgia, and my siblings to themselves. I enter my room and shut the door, but not too hard, or else Mom will have yet another excuse to nag me.
I take a deep breath, trying to get my mind off of this. All of this. I want a normal seventeen-year-old life, but if you call a druggie and his crew on your heels or being Muslim while your parents don't know normal, then yes, I am that.
I run a hand through my hair after untying it from its braid. My hair covers the pillow I'm now laying on. I pull out my phone from my pocket and text Zahra, not in the mood to call her.
Salaam. Mom wants me to go to a Catholic school...
She texts me back two minutes later.
Oh my Allah! This is bad! Should I come over?
And I reply:
No, let's just meet at the library or something tomorrow. I have tons to tell you.
After that, Zahra replies with an 'okay', and I drop my phone on my bed. I get the card that the mysterious man gave me earlier. I look at the number, printed in red ink. I turn the card over and over in my hand, mentally exhausted from this eventful and tiresome day.
I sit up straight on my bed, letting out a long breath. There is only one thing to do in a time like this: turn to Allah and ask for guidance. I close my eyes and cup my hands in front of me, turning to God the second time today. Oh Allah, please relieve me from the situations I am currently in. Please ease the tension between me and my mother. And finally, please protect me and my friends and family from any danger. Ameen.
***
"Mom, please! Zahra is leaving soon and I need to talk to her! We need a girl session. Like, pronto." I take a swig of my milkshake.
Right now, we're in Steak n' Shake for lunch. We're supposed to be headed home after this, but now I'm trying to convince my mother to take me to the library. I wait for her reply expectantly. Instead, Georgia clears her throat and says, "I'll take you, Kayla. This really seems important." She gives me a hint of a smile which I return.
"Thanks Georgia." I glance at Mom who seems to place a forced smile on her lips.
"Fine, you better get going if you're finished with your food," Mom tells me as I take one last bite of my burger. I nod and try to eat quickly but not rush myself, if that makes sense. I want to hurry up, but I don't want to be in a choking fit in public.
After I get cleaned up, Georgia leaves money on the table next to Mom to pay for us. I shoot her a grateful smile before finally leaving with Georgia. "So this friend of yours...when is she moving?" Georgia inquires as we get in her car.
"In less than a week," I reply, buckling my seatbelt once I plop down on the passenger seat. Georgia puts on her own seatbelt and starts the car. I put my hand against the cold window, leaving a hand silhouette on it. "I'm gonna miss her."
"Things will get better soon, honey. Friends come and go." She takes a turn to the right, taking us on a road leading to the library. I glance at the dashboard and make a mental note to pray, since the Dhuhr prayer will be in thirty minutes or so.
"Yeah..." I gaze out the window, trying to ignore the fact that my first friend at Churning Bay will leave me for six long months, full of adjusting to a life without her. I doodle on the fog on the window while we pass cars which drive past us.
Soon, we arrive at the library and Georgia drops me off. I enter the library and notice Zahra sitting at a table to herself at the reading nook, her eyes skimming the pages. I sit across her and she looks up, greeting me with salaam, which I return.
"So, your mom wants you to attend a Catholic school..." She sets the book down on the table. "Why?"
"Something about my 'behavior'. A few weeks ago at the hospital, I might have told her that we should consider being Muslim." I press my lips to a thin line and tap my fingers on the table. "She also said that we'll talk about more in private."
"Wow." She bites her lip, contemplating on this tricky situation. "Isn't your dad in town? You can convince him to convince your mom to lay low and let you stay at school." Zahra searches my eyes, hoping that she didn't help me in vain.
I shrug. "I don't know...A few days ago they were having a serious talk and...Maybe dad's fiancée can persuade her! She's so nice and kind and gentle...But Mom appears to be a little shakier ever since Dad and Georgia arrived. Gosh, this is so damn hard." I rub my eyes in mock tiredness.
Zahra's eyes rest on the table before looking up at me, her expression serious. "There's only one solution to stop your mom from taking you to another school."
***
Okay, so sorry for the long update. So many things have been happening lately. I attended a sort of interview/curriculum thing, and it turned out great and I love the school. I'll go there next school year Inshallah, but anyways there was another incident a few days ago. It involved the bus, water, and me getting drenched.
Yeah. And the sad thing is, a Muslim high schooler (I don't know who) did that and didn't even apologize. So I'm pretty ticked off right now, and I guess you get the idea why I'm moving schools.
Assalamu Alaykum and have a nice day ;)