♡Chapter edited by the beautiful and talented duchessoftheclouds♡
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👑Brysons POV👑
Hot air escapes my lips as I huffed. Tony kept his attention on me, encouraging me with his hawk eyes.
My hands gripped the handle bars tightly as the veins in my arms popped through my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut as I moved my left leg, then right.
Moving my left leg was harder, since the bullets damaged the nerves on my left more so than the right, but I still managed. I swung my left leg, moving it once again. My grip loosened on the bars as my right leg moved effortlessly.
I could feel the sweat dripping down my forehead as I prayed that I wouldn't fall this time.
One…
More…
Step…
I looked up and I was face to face with a gleaming Tony.
“You did it, brother! Mashallah (God has willed it).”
I smiled as Tony put his arm around me and handed me the crutches.
“A whole hallway. You walked by yourself, a whole freaking hallway!” He yelled, the other patients turning to look at us.
I chuckled as I took the crutches. It felt better, not having to put so much pressure on them anymore.
I took my shirt off and faced the mirror. Not to be cocky or anything, but my muscles never looked better. Who would've thought simple aerobics would've had me looking so for. My arms looked packed, because of all I did was carry myself with my arms.
“Are you staring at yourself?” Tony asked, laughing as he wrote into the medical journal.
“No, I'm just looking at the mirror. Of course I'm staring at myself.” I huffed, flexing my chest.
He chuckled as his eyes made its way to my back. A frown made its way on to his face as he looked back at the journal.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, just looking at the calculations.” He said, keeping his head down.
“Come on man, what are you thinking?” I asked, sitting down at the bench slowly.
“Your scars, brother. How could someone hurt you so badl-”
“It's in the past, Tony. He's in jail for life. If it Madina wasn't there with me that night, I would have shot him in between his eyes.” I said angrily as I took my shoes off.
Tony looked at me silently. “Thank god she was there with you. God saved you, Bryson. If you would've killed him, it would've been you in jail right now, astagfirullah (I seek forgiveness/God forbid). He deserves to be in there, and he will rot, not you,” Tony said, looking away into free space.
“Yeah… I thank God every day. I'd rather be shot than be in jail right now. He doesn't deserve to die, he needs to suffer. But I leave it in God’s hands from now on. I can't control my destiny, it's already been written.” I said, slipping my slides on.
Tony patted my back. “I can tell you've been reading.”
“Reading what?” I huffed with a smile.
“The Quran (holy book), you’re becoming wise,” he said with a smirk.
“I've been wise.” I said, pointing to my chest.
“You're funny.” He chuckled. “The only wise thing you ever did was follow Madina around, until she practically had to give you another chance!” He laughed even more to the point that his eyes started watering.
“Shut up, man,” I said, hitting him with my shoulder.
“I'm just being honest, brother. She's the only person that pushed you to this point. God knows where you’d be without her.” He said, packing his bag.
I know exactly where I'd be without her. In jail, or somewhere smoking my brains out, trying to numb the pain.
She gives me this high that weed could never give me. This high never ends, it's always got me feeling like I'm in the clouds.
“Are you daydreaming about her, fam?” Tony chuckled.
“Do you wanna know everything?” I asked, throwing my bag at him.
“No, on second thought, I don’t wanna know what you were thinking,” he said with a disgusted face.
“Chill, man. I don't think that way of her. I respect her on a whole other level. My mind doesn't even see her as a sexual object. She's just so pure and innocent. If I was only allowed to hold her in my arms for the rest of my life, I wouldn't complain. That's how much I want her.” I said, looking down at my red knuckles.
“Wow, son… I think you're in love.” Tony said, wiping a fake tear from his eyes.
“Nothing wrong with that.” I laughed.
He gasped like a girl as he looked around excitedly. “No way! I can't wait to tell all my girls.”
“You're a joke, sit down.” I laughed.
“I'm proud of you man, regardless. It took a hijabi queen to knock some sense into you. Muslims on some top level shit, I'm proud of my sisters holding crazy men like you down,” he chuckled.
“I know I'm lucky, but she's lucky too.” I said, crossing my arms.
I had a lot to offer… right?
“Lucky to have you?” He laughed, slapping his knees.
I looked at him with bored eyes as he stopped.
“I'm joking, you got a lot to offer too, like… you have nice hair?” He said unsure.
“You're getting too comfortable with me.” I said, pushing him to the other side of the bench.
“You're getting stronger, I need to watch what I'm saying around you now,” he laughed.
I got up and put all my weight on him on purpose. I laughed when he struggled to hold me up.
“Have you talked to her father yet?” Tony asked, once I straightened out, his hand around my shoulders.
“He hates me, man. Old guy used to love me, but now he's all cranky knowing I'm interested in his daughter,” I huffed.
“Well, if he liked you once, I believe he can bring the same feelings again. I mean, come on, all Middle Eastern men are the same at heart. They just wanna know how you'll provide, protect, and cherish her while loving God. When you master that, he'll love you. I'm telling ya,” Tony said.
He was right.
I just had to show him what I had going for myself. He sees me as a weak boy. I have to show him what I'm made of.
“You're so f*cking right.” I said.
“I know I am.” he said instantly. “Another thing. Don't swear in front of him, that's a big no-no.”
“Right.” I chuckled. “I'll filter my words.”
After our conversation, I got showered, this time without Tony's help. It felt good to get my power back. These little things I use to take for granted. God really showed me how strong he is and how weak I am.
If anything, I feel closer than I ever was towards the higher energy. It took weakness to bring me on my knees and pray for forgiveness.
I just hope I'm forgiven.
Walking into school after Tony dropped me off, I could see the spirit from all of the students. Other high schools took football serious. Centennial was made for basketball, our pep rallies were even bigger than the ones for football.
It was incredible being different than the other high schools, and soon this would all be over.
I held my crutches under my arms as I tried to not put so much pressure down on them.
Today, classes weren't really running. It was all about the championships that were as soon as the school bell rings.
Students were outside, painting canvases and attaching them to the school walls.
Everyone was dressed in red, white, and black with big bold letters printed on their t-shirts.
CENTENNIAL HIGH, HOME OF THE DEVILS
I had my warm up jersey on and my black skinny jeans on. Since I wasn't gonna be playing today, I didn't think it would be appreciated to wear my jersey like the other guys.
This shit burnt my soul. Knowing I can watch the final game of the year, but I can't play in it. Destiny did work in funny ways. Here I was in the beginning of the year, training my muscles to the max. Here I am now with crutches.
Never plan ahead, God always has other plans for you.
I walked into the packed hallways as I heard the school speakers playing the top ten radio hits. Today was definitely one of those days that all the students enjoyed.
I mean, even the band geeks looked like they were enjoying themselves.
I limped over towards Dylan and Aadila as they were arguing.
Some things never change.
“No, you bring the cans of paint over to Madina, and I'll set up groups!” Aadila yells, shoving two cans of pain towards Dylan's chest.
“Why are you so difficult?” Dylan asked, huffing.
“I'm not difficult, you just don't listen.” Aadila said, crossing her arms.
“I'm not difficult, you just don’t listen.” Dylan mimicked in a high pitch voice.
She gasped dramatically. “I do not sound like that!”
“Uh, yeah you do, brat-”
“Hey guys,” I smiled which caused them both to get out of each other’s faces.
“Heyy, Bryson!” Dylan said, putting his arm around me. “I've been meaning to talk to you”
“Yeah? About…?”
“Jersey number 7 on your team. Damn, he's fine, could you maybe you know put in a good word for me?” Dylan asked.
I chuckled. “Dylan, Rodriguez is straight.”
“Don't be delusional! My gaydar is beeping very profoundly,” Dylan said.
“Bro, your gaydar is wrong, cause Rodriguez had a girlfriend last week. The boy is straighter than a linear line in Algebra.” I said, patting his back.
He sighed. “That's what they all say. Why am I always into the straight ones?”
“You need to stop daydreaming about straight boys and start getting some work done.” Aadila said, clapping her hands in his face.
Dylan scrunched his face up then smirked mischievously. “He broke up with his girlfriend? Hmm, I wonder why.” Dylan smirked, grabbing the paint and rushing off.
“He gives me a migraine.” Aadila said, writing something into her notepad.
I chuckled and leaned on the lockers beside her.
“Can I help you, pretty boy?” Aadila asked, straightening her glasses.
“You think I'm pretty? Girl, stop.” I said, waving my hand in her face.
She giggled and looked down. “What do you want, Bryson?”
“Why can't I just have a normal conversation with one of my friends. I don't always want something.” I said, shrugging.
She looked at me dumbfounded and raised her eyebrow.
“You're looking for Madina, and you want me to tell you where she is. Am I right, or am I right?” She asked.
Damn, she's good.
“Wrong, I was gonna ask when the pep rally was gonna start. Since you’re in charge and everything, Miss President,” I lied, fake saluting.
“Oh,” she said with a wary smile. “I'm sorry, it
starts-” She looked at her watch. “In an hour.”
“Great, thanks fam,” I smiled, turning around.
“One more thing.” I said as she turned back around to face me.
“Yes, Bryson?” She said with an annoyed face.
“You wouldn't happen to know where Madina is, right?” I asked.
Aadila threw her hands in the air. “I freaking knew it. You could've just asked me in the beginning. It would have saved us all some time.”
I chuckled. “So where is she?”
“At the side corridor. attempting to water paint.” Aadila said, walking away immediately.
“Thanks, Madam President!” I yelled as she waved her hand with her back turned to me.
I went outside of the school to the side where not many students were. The ones that were there chose to sit next to the trees with one another.
My eyes made its way to a small figure on a ladder attempting to hang up a big piece of white paper on the school wall.
“Dylan, I need your help, stop watching me!” She yelled as I came closer.
“Watching you struggle with your short arms is so much funnier though,” he laughed.
“Oh yeah? You know what's also funny? Getting slapped as these short arms come to attack you!”
I chuckled, looking up as the sun was talking my vision away.
Her body froze as Dylan saw me. “Thank god you're here. I don't have to deal with her bullshit anymore. Thanks, Bryson!” Dylan said, skipping away.
“Dylan, don't you leave me here alone!” She yelled but sighed as soon as he faded away.
“Hey, Beads,” I smiled.
I couldn't see her face as her front was attached to the wall.
“Hey Brys,” I could hear the smile on her lips.
“I'm in a little bit of a pickle right now,” she laughed.
“I can tell,” I grinned. “Wanna come down?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Yes please.”
“Come on, I'll help you,” I said, getting closer to the latter.
She screamed. “I'm gonna fall!”
My heart stopped beating for a second as I dropped my crutches and brought my arms in front of me, ready to catch her.
I looked up as she gripped the ladder and giggled until tears escapes her eyes.
“I was joking,” she laughed again, shaking the whole ladder.
I could see the side of her face that had a big smile attached to it.
“You're a horrible person. My heart literally fell out of my chest,” I said, grabbing my crutches.
“Well, you better go catch it, I think you need that thing to survive.” She laughed, taking a step down.
“Very funny,” I said, looking away.
She giggled as her hands rested on my shoulders.
“Oh, so now you need help? The girl who cried wolf, ain't it?” I asked.
“Just help me, you goof.” She smiled, and that's when I saw what I saw.
I came closer as her tiny hands grabbed my shoulders. She jumped off, standing below me now.
“What's this?” I asked with a grin, as I flicked her soft cheek.
“Oh, nothing,” she played off.
“Come here,” I said pulling at her jersey that she wore.
“Bryson, I am a very busy woman-”
I pulled her jersey harder as she fell onto my chest. My hand wandered to her chin as I turned her face to the right.
‘Number 11’ in black prominent letters were across her pearl-like cheeks.
My grin grew as she slapped my hand away.
“You're gonna smudge it!”
“You got my jersey number painted on your face?” I asked.
“No,” she snorted. “I just like the number 11”
“You're such a bad liar,” I laughed.
She shook her head as she mixed the paint with water.
“You shouldn't have. I mean, I'm not even playing tonight. No need to represent my number,” I said, leaning on the table.
Her head snapped towards me. “Bryson, you're the one who led this team to championships. You've been there for practices, you hustle hard as anyone on that team. You're the team captain, don't you ever forget that. The team needs you now more than anything. You deserve to shine just like the rest of them.” She said, gripping the paint brush.
“Okay, Ma, chill,” I said, taking the paintbrush out of her hand.
She laughed and unclenched her hands.
“Thank you. Hearing you say all that really makes me believe it,” I said.
She smiled. “Good. Because they need you, Brys.”
I couldn't help but stare at the numbers on her cheek with a smile.
“Who’s idea was it?” I asked, pointing to her cheek.
She smiled and looked down. “Mine, why?”
“Oh, so now she's bold?” I asked.
She hit my arm as I chuckled. “I've always been bold.”
“It took you two days to decide to wear my jersey. Remember that day I had to beg you to wear it?” I chuckled.
“Shut up, I didn't want people to think we were dating. And plus, Majeed didn't like you back then, do you remember that?” She asked.
I nodded with a smile. “I remember. How could I forget?”
We both looked at each other fondly until her phone vibrated.
“Ugh, I have to get this stupid mural done in 30 minutes and I'm not even an artist,” she groaned.
“What happened to the person who actually had to do this?” I asked.
“They bailed last second. Apparently, they caught the flu. Sounds like bullshit to me,” Madina said angrily.
“Or maybe they did catch the flu,” I laughed.
“Probably did. I'm just angry that Aadila makes someone who can only draw stick figures end up water painting a freaking mural! I mean, come on, how does that even make sense? I can’t even draw clouds, for Allah’s (god) sake,” Madina said, pacing around.
I couldn't help but enjoy when she was angry. Her tiny body moving in all different directions, her face scrunched up like a baby that wanted more candy.
“I can help you.”
“I mean. come on, I love Aadila. but this is the dumbest thing she's ever done-” Madina stopped talking as she looked over at me. “Say what?” She asked.
“I can help you,” I repeated.
Madina put her hand on her chest and looked up at the blue sky dramatically. “God is good.”
“How did I forget I had Van Gogh standing right infront of me this whole time!?” She said, running towards me with a smile.
“I'm definitely not Van Gogh, but I can help you,” I smiled as her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Are you kidding me? You’re like the best painter I know! You have talent, Bryson, right in these hands of yours,” she said, touching my finger tips.
I smirked. “Shall we start, madam?”
“We shall, lead the way.”
That's when we decided to throw away the old sheet of paper that Madina had painted on. When she said she couldn't paint, she really meant it. I mean, I think I've seen a five year old draw a prettier picture than that.
Either way, I thought it was beautiful, because of all the hard work she put into it. It wasn't my idea to throw it out. I just agreed after she said how embarrassing it was.
The effort she put into it made it cute. But I don't think others would have seen it like I do.
“You're adding too much after,” I laughed.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, putting the pallet down.
“You have to make sure there is more paint than water. Or else, the water just makes the solution very sloppy. The whole point of adding water is to give it a good finish when it dries,” I said, adding the water.
She watched me intently.
I stood in front of the canvas and handed her the pallet.
“Go ahead,” I told her.
She went to brush the paint on, but stopped midway.
“I can't do this, Brys. I'm gonna ruin the whole thing again.” She mumbled.
“You got this. Don't think about it. Just let it flow,” I said.
“Easy to say, Mr. Artist,” she said, crossing her arms.
I smiled and went behind her. Not too close, because knowing Madina, she does bite.
I grabbed the paintbrush and angled it. My arm still around her as the scent of her hijab gave off roses.
“Put your hand on top of mine. I'll show you the flow.” I said into her ear.
She nodded and put her smaller hand on top of my larger one.
I decided to go with the back of every guy on the team so their numbers would show. I also added the crowd in the background cheering. The whole scenery was an exact image of what the gym would look like at the championships tonight.
It took us 20 minutes before I dropped the paintbrush. She didn't know, but I did stop moving my hand. She took over half of the mural, unconsciously understanding the signature of art.
I stood behind Madina, her hand still gripping my larger one. Her brown eyes studied the painting as a smile made its way to her face.
“You did amazing, Bryson,” she whispered.
“You did too.” I said.
She turned around as her warm hand let go of my much colder ones.
“I did not do that, it was all you, Scott.” She said, cleaning up.
“But that’s where you're wrong, I let go a while ago. You were the one painting.” I said.
She turned around and eyed me. “That's not true.”
I nodded, “It is though.”
She smiled. “I still couldn't of done it without you. Knowing you were there made it look that great. You saved everyone's eyes,” she laughed.
“What can I say, we make a good team.” I said, grabbing the garbage bag.
“There is only two of us. Isn't that more like a pair? A team is more than two people, right?” She said, overthinking.
I put my arm around her and whispered in her ear “We'll be a team one day.”
She shoved me to the other side as I almost lost my balance. “You're getting too comfortable with me,” she said, trying to hide her blush.
I chuckled. “I can't help it.”
“I can help it,” she said.
“Yeah, with what?” I asked, getting closer.
“With a punch. Take another step closer, you'll find out,” she dared, eyeing me.
“Mhmm.” I said, watching her.
I wanted to grab and kiss her lips until that attitude was gone. But I respected her, never would I force myself.
It's all about patience.
“Are you excited for the game?” She asked.
“Am I excited? You can't tell?” I asked, pointing to my face.
She snorted. “You always got this staring bored face thing going on. I can never tell.”
“Says you, I show more emotion when I'm with you than anyone else,” I said with a raised eyebrow.
“I'm flattered,” she said, wiping a fake tear away.
We walked over towards the front entrance as some kid from the group said he would hang the mural when it dries. I should've remembered his name to be honest, but all I did was watch how kindly Madina talked to the group members.
“I can't wait until that trophy is placed at the golden windows near the office. You guys honestly deserve it,” she said.
“Will you be there?” I asked.
“At the game? Of course I'm coming, I can't wait!” She squealed.
Like, actually squealed.
That's how you know she loves basketball. Never ever have I heard her squeal before.
“Good,” I smiled, looking away.
“Why?” She asked, suspect evident in her voice. “Are you planning on embarrassing me or something in front of the whole school?”
I laughed. “Nah, I just wanted to have an actual trophy there with me when it all ends. You know, something real instead of plastic, or metal,” I said.
She went silent as her arm laced around mine.
“I thought I was I was your good luck charm,” she said with a snicker.
“That too.” I mumbled.
“Oh, Bryson,” she sighed with a smile, looking up at me.
“Oh, Madina.” I sighed the same way, looking down at her.
She giggled and slapped my arm. “Don't copy me. You're so annoying.”
“You're so beautiful.” I blurted.
“Huh?” She asked and looked up.
“Huh? I don't know,” I smiled, looking down at her small figure.
“This is what I'm talking about. You're so weird.” She giggled.
“You're so mine.” I said back.
She looked up again. “What?”
I know she wanted me to say it again. But I couldn't. Just to see that frustration on her face.
“What? You're hearing things,” I mumbled.
She giggled and hit my arm again.
“And you're abusive, damn woman, stop hitting me!”
“They say love hurts. I hope that hurt.” She said softly.
“Huh?” I asked.
“Huh? I don't know, you're hearing things.” she said looking up at me with her brown eyes that shone with pure mischief.
👑To Be Continued👑
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A/N
Salam! Hello to everyone! Thanks for all the messages wishing me good health. Y'all are seriously amazing. I consider all of my readers as my family. I love you guys. I'm doing better, a bit uneasy but honestly I go through this all the time. Nothing can break me.
QOTD: How was Valentines day?
Single pringle, and never ready to mingle 🤣 my valentines day honestly wasn't too bad. I bought my mom some things to show appreciation and had a blast at my schools semi formal dance. It could've turned our horrible but I had so much fun! I hope everyone knows that valentines day can also be a day to appreciate yourself girls and boys:)
Salam/Peace, Raz ✌❤