[Recap]: Everything we’ve worked hard on for the past three months is about to go down.
"It’s the first time that I realize that I could seriously get hurt tonight…or worse." -- Maysa Malik, COAMG
Chapter 32
The Gold Chandelier Earrings
☼ Maysa Malik ☼
Two big brown eyes stare back at me in wonder, and I lift my hand up, causing the reflection to lift her hand up as well. Twelve delicate gold bangles slide back and forth in an easy, carefree way on her arm. My hand pressures against the cold, smooth glass of the mirror; hers does too.
This is actually happening, I think to myself. My consciousness registers what my mind has just stated. Everyone’s going to be looking at you. Your appearance. I don’t think I’m ready for this. I’m going first. I don’t like going first. I’m comfortable being first or second. Somebody like Noha should be going first, somebody that faces life head-on. I prefer to work up the guts first.
A light laugh interrupts my thoughts. In the reflection of the mirror, I see Hannan dancing like Elvis with a curler in her hand. I turn around and Noha, Shazia, and Naomi are all cheering her on as she sways her hips around.
“Ladies, show time in three minutes.” Drew sticks his head in the door and freezes when he sees Hannan dancing like a maniac, along with Noha and Naomi, who leaped up and started dancing with her.
His grip on the door handle slackens and his skin is tinged with red. “Oh. I probably should have waited, but you guys didn’t open the door when I knocked.”
Hannan and Noha’s eyes widen. “Oh. It’s ok.” Hannan says shyly. She doesn’t go to Riverside with us, so this is her first time meeting Drew.
Drew awkwardly leaves. Silence ensues as we all sit there quietly. I can’t keep the smile off my face and I’m about to burst out laughing when Drew walks in again. “I need to talk to Maysa for a minute.”
Getting up, I slip on my gold heels and follow him out. On the way out, I hear Shazia mutter, “I can’t believe we have to share those damn shoes.”
When she remarks that, I turn around to look at her. She’s wearing an emerald green dress with golden chandelier earrings. As I follow Drew out to the dimly lit backstage area behind the curtains, I can’t help but think at how beautiful she looks with her thick, wavy hair twisted up, complimenting the earrings she has on.
“Ok, here’s the drill, ok? The instrumental for Take Care by Drake is going to play first. That’s when I’m going to make the announcement about what’s going to go on so the audience isn’t confused. Comprende?” Drew’s fail of a Spanish accent is painful. He’s such a white kid, I swear.
“Yeah. I gotchoo. Then what?”
“Then ‘Chasing the Sun’ by The Wanted is going to come on, ok? I’ll have the beat, just the instrumental, at the beginning. It’s going to start off with the words, ‘They said the day wouldn’t come, we refused to run’ blah blah blah. Got it?” I nod again. “Ok. And you come on the minute the chorus starts playing, ok?”
I nod. His serious expression and solemn grey eyes are making me more nervous than I need to be.
I head back to the room where all the girls are still chatting and giggling. We sit in there for a long hour, until all the other talent show acts before intermission are performed. I know all our parents are in the audience because Sobia went out and checked.
We sat in the back room for about an hour, and during intermission, Adam and Zak came backstage, along with all the boys helping with the stage. “We’re going to set up because everybody is outside getting refreshments.” Niall explains. Mustafa nods at Farah and she grins back.
“Great. Y’all know what to do, right?” Farah asks. Everybody says yes. All the boys leave but Zakariya lingers for an extra second, but I don’t miss his intense gaze. When I turn my head, I see it’s directed towards Shazia. She’s staring straight back at him, and if her face looks like a whirlwind of emotions underneath her calm exterior.
Oh God. I feel sick at the implication behind their actions. Does he—does she—do they…do they like each other? I excuse myself from the room and walk out. Montez Cricks, a sophomore, smiles at me as I walk out. I offer him a distracted smile and keep walking.
In the near darkness, I feel my body making contact with someone else’s. My heart leaps at the possibilities as to who it could be. “Maysa.” A quiet voice says.
Oh. “Salam, Adam.” We each take a few steps back, even though I don’t know where exactly I’m standing because we’re farther away from the two dim lights lighting up the back of the stage.
“Look, I—I mean, I don’t—” I can see the outline of his hand reaching up and running through his hair as Adam looks down in frustration. My heart is beating wildly but I tell it to be still. Chill out. Be still, you stupid heart.
“You…?” I encourage him to go on the best I can.
“Good luck, ok? And I’m sorry for being such an ass. And for keeping so much from you. But you’re like my best friend, Maysa. I mean, Zakariya is but seriously, I don’t even know what—” he takes a deep breath and begins again. “I don’t even know what to say. I know that we don’t get a chance to hang out too much but you’re like my best friend. And I don’t want our friendship to end over something as trivial and stupid as what happened at the party. So…friends?” I think this is the best I’m going to get.
I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t disappointed. In this tiny part of my mind, I wanted him to confess his feelings to me. If he even had feelings. Though, if Noha’s right, he does. Yet, the thought of him having feelings for me is…unfathomable.
“Maysa, are you listening?” His voice breaks my thoughts, sends them flying with a big poof.
“Uh…yeah. Sorry. We can definitely stay friends. It never occurred to me that this would end our friendship.”
The anxiety seems to literally seep out of his body. His stiff posture relaxes, and he smiles this time, and even though I can’t fully see it, I can sense it. “Great.” He smiles.
“Great.” I whisper back, mirroring his relief and contentment.
☮ ☮ ☮
I have never dreaded the instrumental of ‘Take Care’ by Drake until now. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have minded this song, but now the minute the beat is about to play I feel sick to my stomach. Noha, who’s standing behind me, whispers into my ear, “You’ll be fine. Just relax. Inshallah it’ll be fine.”
I nod. I suddenly have the urge to bolt across the stage, straight into the audience, into my mother’s arms, and have her hold me and reassure me that it’ll be ok.
“Good luck, Maysa.” The boys all nod at me, their hands dusted with the silver glitter of the trees. The audience is buzzing in anticipation; we can hear it. Drew flashes me a thumbs-up from his makeshift DJ booth thing. Then, he hits the button. And a few seconds later, the music starts playing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you all are having a great time atRiversideHigh School’s seventh annual talent show! All of the previous acts represented how talented our student body is but this is the first time inRiverside’s history that we are going to have a fashion show within our talent show! Let’s give it up to the beautiful and talented Farah Hamoudi for designing each one of the outfits our lovely models are about to showcase!” With that, Chasing the Sun by The Wanted starts playing.
I have the sudden urge to pee in my pants. Mommy, help me! I mentally plead. The chorus starts booming so loud I feel the vibrations as the wood stage seems to shake.
“Go!” Everybody yells. That’s my cue. I burst through the fake fog and the entrance and suddenly I’m walking down the stage I’ve practiced on so many times. My steps falter as a collective ‘oooh’ ripples through the audience. As I near the stage extension that Zak, Josh, and Noha built, my palms start sweating. I’m trying to keep my steps in rhythm with the music, but the lights are glaring down at me, I’m trying to keep my stepping in the heels, and a thousand people are all staring at me.
My cheeks start burning bright red and I’m just glad that my skin is tan enough to conceal the redness and that everybody is too far away to discern the blushing.
As the music changes to ‘Run the World’ by Beyoncé and Noha passes me by, I sigh in relief. It’s over. It’s finally over. The stage extension didn’t cave in. I didn’t trip. I didn’t fall. The relief sucks all the anxiety out of me.
“Change, change, change!” Sobia thrusts my outfit at me and drags me into the changing room. Shazia’s exiting the room as I enter. She’s fingering the beautiful golden chandelier earrings again unconsciously, a preoccupied expression on her face.
“Sobia, what is up with those earrings?” Shazia looks way too attached to them to have them be something of Farah’s that she’s borrowed.
“Child, you think this is the time to be asking these questions? You have five minutes to get back out there! Hurry up and change!”
“Ok, ok!” She frantically pushes me behind the changing partition. I quickly dress in and out of my clothes, not wanting to leave my first outfit, the nautical styled blazer and red and white dress and pants, in a heap on the floor.
“Hurry up!” Sobia booms. Noha rushes in with Hannah, who’s getting her changed just as quickly. The song changes from ‘Run the World’ by Beyoncé to ‘Run the Show’ by Kat DeLuna. Adriana and Skye must be up right now.
While I stand and wait for Sobia to finish touching up my hijab and makeup, she answers the question. “Those are Shazia’s mother’s earrings. She told Far not to worry about the jewelry for that outfit.”
Before I can respond, she throws a pair of heels at me and almost literally kicks me out of the room. I hop around trying to get the shoes on as Drew is playing Sahanara’s song.
Nara comes backstage in her sassy African-print dress as Naomi takes off in her high-waisted dress and jacket.
The sick feeling rises inside me but then placates when Sahanara places a reassuring hand on my arm. “You’ll do great.” She says, and takes off with Sania to get changed.
Naomi comes back and Drew nearly pushes me out as the instrumental to ‘Glad You Came’ by The Wanted. I burst through the entrance once again, stumbling in the heels I have on. Thankfully, the twinkling trees lining the stage are a distraction and the fake fog cover my legs knee-down, so nobody saw that.
The first line of the song plays as I come into a better view. “The sun goes down, the stars come out.”—at that line, the fog clears out, and everyone has a full few of the sun and star-themed outfit I have on.
Another look of awe passes through the audience at Farah’s talent. Even the boys seem intrigued at the beauty of the clothes and her sharp mind and eye for design and color.
As the upbeat part of the song plays, I try my best not to look down, instead looking straight ahead at the back wall. I’m much calmer now, so I take in time to soak in the feeling and details.
There is a clack every time my heels hit the wood stage, but no one can hear it but me. The beat is catchy and if it wasn’t for how captivating Farah’s outfits are, I’m sure everyone would be dancing. The pulsing of the rhythm and the heat of the moment, coupled with the beaming spotlights and equally dark audience area fills me with adrenaline.
As I get to the beginning of the stage extension, I shift my eyes slightly to the right and see my parents sitting in the audience, taking pictures like crazy. Nazia’s jumping up and down in her seat with such a wide smile on her face that it’s ridiculous.
Pausing at the end of the stage for a few seconds, I sweep my gaze over the audience. Some of the boys that helped with the fashion show—Adam’s friends, Adam, Niall, Ahmed, Josh, Arman—are all sitting there silently cheering and grinning. That’s not what I notice the most though.
Adam is sitting there with a quiet smile on his face, his signature smile where the left side of his mouth is higher than his right, and he’s holding something up. I can’t stare at him for long and I can’t smile too much, so in a few milliseconds; I sweep my gaze across the audience again and turn to my left to walk back.
But by delaying my walking for three seconds and improvising by doing that little stare-over-your-shoulder thing that some models do, I see what Adam has written on the board he’s holding up slightly, discreetly: You look beautiful.
As I walk back up the runway, I have to resist the start jumping up and down screaming from happiness, or skipping. But oh my God do I want to do that.
The scariness of modeling and the attention of everybody on me and the whole feel of the evening and Adam’s sign and his cuteness just makes me want to sing.
The song is about to end—my song, ‘Glad You Came’ by the Wanted—and it ends as the singer goes “You cast a spell on me, spell on me. It’s like the sky fell on me, fell on me.”
Hell yeah. That’s what I feel like right now. When I get backstage, memories of Adam’s messy, scrawled handwriting keep surfacing in my mind. Adriana and Skye are waiting for Noha to end her walk, and Drew is concentrating on the music. I don’t care; I start jumping up and down. And let me tell you, it takes guts to jump in heels. Especially for a soccer player like me who needs any athletic scholarship she can get. It’s official; I’m legitimately crazy.
Nothing can bring my mood down now, I think.
As Skye goes onstage, Shazia appears just behind the curtains. I go back to change now, taking my time, but first, I hunt down Farah to thank her for the opportunity.
She’s standing next to Drew, with a clipboard, and I go hug her quickly. The DJ booth where Farah and Drew are is far right to the room that Farah arranged for the models to change.
I decide to loop around the other way to be alone and think about a few things. As I’m walking in the dim light, I spot something sparkly on the ground. I bend down in my four-inch heels and inspect the object, teetering to keep my balance.
It’s one golden chandelier earring. “Naomi, you’re on!” Drew and Farah shout over the music. I turn back and see Naomi in the far distance strut offstage.
A chill hits me at the realization, even though a few seconds before I was hot in my blazer. If it’s Naomi’s turn, it’s been a while since Shazia has been onstage. She should have changed out by now.
More importantly, why would her earring—only one earring—be here, so far away from the room? I slip in the shadows so Farah and Drew won’t spot me and ask me why I haven’t dressed out yet.
Attempting to form coherent thoughts, I stare at the earrings. Shazia was supposed to wear them for both of her outfits.
As I turn the earrings this way and that, I see the initials of the jeweler on the stem of the earrings: ZS.
Z. That one letter causes me to chill and shudder. It occurs to me then that I haven’t seen Zak anywhere; not in the audience, not backstage.
☮ ☮ ☮
Right then and there, I do something uncharacteristic of me: I make a rash decision. I slip out the side entrance, down the dark exit leading out of the building.
The first ten steps are taken blindly. I don’t know what I’m doing, but the caution is mounting. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. What if I’m doing something dangerous?
I feel something in my eyes and I blindly wipe it away. Black smears on my hand, but I can’t stop going down the slightly steep ramp that’s usually used for the backstage crew to exit the building quickly.
My heels make my calves burn, and my heart is beating fast. It’s pitch black, but the red EXIT sign gives me enough light to see the heavy metal double doors leading out of the auditorium.
It’s the back entrance. I shove at the doors and cold, early March air slaps me in the face. It’s empty, and my breath puffs out in front of me. The chill wraps around me, choking me, mocking me. Where are you going to go now?
I’m dimly aware that I’m out the back entrance, in the back side of the school that is deserted at night. I glance right and then left. Empty. Silent.
I slowly start walking, my heels slapping against the concrete road louder than I would like them to. There’s a corner. I near it. Fear spikes up in me. A crow squawks in the background. The crickets are silent. Everyone is at home; safe. But me.
I turn the corner, but I don’t turn it sharply. If there’s anything on the other side, I don’t want to be caught. I keep a distance between me and the corner.
My breath puffs out in front of me. I inch my way towards the corner. The shininess of the gold earring clutched in my hand makes me look down, and in turn, something else catches my attention.
A beat up picture, creased so many times out of love and care. One corner has been violently ripped off. I bend down. I pick it up. It’s glossy but the grit and grim of the ground has gotten to it. The black grit rubs off when my fingers make contact with the small, wallet-size photo. The damage is fresh.
It’s a photo of two girls. I almost don’t recognize them while they’re standing next to their taller brother. The eyes of the older girl makes my heart stop as her big brown eyes stare back with intensity.
The chill of the night is unforgiving and my lips are slowly losing their feel. But the girl’s eyes warm me. The girl is me. Those eyes are mine.
I whip my head up in realization that Zakariya is around here, somewhere. Blackness does not greet my eyes; blue eyes do.
It happened so fast that I couldn’t even say anything. He grabbed me and held me, and when my mouth opened, he roughly grabbed it with his fingers, his grip so hard that my teeth felt the pressure of his hand.
My heels gave me the advantage of height; his flat shoes gave him the advantage of swiftness. “What are you—”
“Shut the hell up, you f***ng idiot.” The voice growls back at me. He’s holding my face up so that I can’t make out many details as to what he looks like or what he’s wearing, and the blackness of the night doesn’t permit that either.
I want to cry, but I suck in my sobs. You are a young woman stuck alone on a dark back road with a boy. Keep yourself strong. Don’t show fear.
He shakes me again, dragging me along now, barely giving me enough time to preach to myself. The picture nearly falls out of my hand but I grip it harder, yanking my hand out of his tight grip in the process.
The pain in my wrist due to his strong fingers starts to burn. The burn, along with the coldness, causes my arm to lose feel.
“Sto—” The boy backs me up against the wall.
He places a heavy hand over my eyes when I open my mouth. “Shut up!”
Shazia’s earring, which is in my other hand, is all I need. I stab him in the wrist, in the soft spot where his nerves are.
A startled scream cuts the silence of the night. My eyes become uncovered, and I widen them in an attempt to suck in as much detail of my surroundings as I can.
It then that I notice the boy. He’s younger than I thought he was. He’s not looking at me, instead staring at his arm gushing out blood. I shove the photo and earring in my pocket, thanking Farah for making the outfits functional.
The boy whips his head up, dark brown hair whipping past his angry blue eyes. “You stupid b****! I’m trying to help you!”
He attempts to grab me again but I slip out of the way. He growls. I back away slowly, back towards the door I came out of. “Who are you?”
“Why the hell does it matter who I am? I’m supposed to be guarding.” He snaps back.
We’re both breathing heavily and he advances towards me with graceful yet predator-like steps. The fear rises again, making me want to vomit. I can’t make out specific details, but I know this boy is bulky enough to take me and hurt me quickly.
I try to focus on what I can do; I try to focus on happy thoughts, like rainbows and doughnuts, and…and Adam. Adam! Ya Allah please get him here, please! I plead to God.
I step back, making sure I’m not backing against a wall. The boy smirks in the darkness and advances towards me. It’s only when I move back a few steps that the streetlight hits and illuminates his face.
The scream is threatening to burst through, a monster unleashed. He realizes who I am the minute I realize who he is. “Oliver.” I gasp out. He looks like Aiden, though his face is more youthful, but the color of the eyes are the same. God, that’s how I can tell it’s Oliver. It’s the unforgettable eyes.
“Shit. Shit. You’re Nazia’s sister.” He analyzes my eyes, my jaw, my mouth. All feature that I share with Nazia.
We both automatically stop our dangerous game. He stares at me, his blue eyes wide. It’s then that I slightly relax. The innocence is still sort of on this boy’s face. His eyes have mercy in them.
He snaps out of whatever spell he was in and looks around. I sense the danger. The fear spikes again. “This is going to make it harder on me.”
Harder? Ya Allah, please no! Please, I have so much I have to do before I die! Please have mercy! It’s the first time that I realize that I could seriously get hurt tonight…or worse.
☮ ☮ ☮
“What the hell is going on here?!” A voice saves me. Or so I think. Another boy, this one well over six feet, appears suddenly. He’s dressed in a black vest over a black tee, with black pants and heavy duty boots. His muscles strain the material of his shirt, bulging out.
There’s a small knife in his hand. “What is going on here, Oliver?”
The naked panic on Oliver’s face makes him look like the thirteen-year-old boy he is. I don’t know what motivated me to do it. Maybe it was stupidity, but I saw so much of Nazia in Oliver that I couldn’t make him face the consequences that I knew he would face.
“I came out the wrong door. Sorry. I should go back.”
The tall guy’s—man’s—broad chest and shoulders vibrate in mocking laughter. “Bitch, once you’re in, you’re in. That’s how the game works. You ain’t going anywhere.”
He starts advancing towards me. I gulp and move back. Then it occurs to me. Why don’t I just freaking run? I’m a soccer player. Jesus. I’m so stupid sometimes. Oh wait, I have heels on. Do I risk it?
I do. I take off running, but the unevenness of the pavement slows me down, and I stumble, flailing to keep my balance, feeling like somebody shot my ankle. Thick arms wrap around me, one around my neck, one around my ribcage.
A laugh hits me from behind. I’m lifted up off the ground, for which I am almost grateful, because my feet are aching and my ankle is on fire. Almost. The other part of me is extremely pissed off that a guy is touching me. Goosebumps and chills run up and down my skin as I physically cringe at the meaty guy’s touch. Please get him off of me, God.
“Get. Off. You. Asshole!” The anger is burning inside of me with such a conviction that I can’t be contained. Determination pools in my stomach as I burn with the desire to fight this guy some way and get the hell out of here.
Zak, think about Zak. You don’t know if he’s in trouble. That sisterly intuition tells me that he needs me right now.
“Shut up!” The meaty guy roars.
“We have to take her to Aiden.” Oliver declares.
Game over is what runs in my mind.
☮ ☮ ☮
I don’t remember much about my struggle, but all I know is that both Oliver and Big Meaty Dude forced me to walk around another corner. It’s the parking lot, on the side of the science buildings. There are no cars, so it’s wide and empty. No protection. Nowhere to go. Survival of the fittest, I guess.
The expanse of the parking lot causes me to strain my eyes to make out the figures standing fifty feet away.
Ignorance is a beautiful, beautiful thing in some aspects. Because the minute I start to see what’s going on, the vomit threatens to shoot up. “ZAKARIYA!” I scream as loud as I can.
A figure roughly the same height and weight as my brother staggers and looks up. Another boy clad in black reaches over to grab him before he gets too far away.
That’s it. That’s when it clicks. Everything falls into place. Well, not everything, but the reality of the situation does.
First, I still completely. Big Meaty Dude unconsciously loosen his grip on my arms. We’re all standing there, the three of us—Big Meaty Dude, Oliver, and me—frozen, soaking in the scene between my brother and Aiden.
Aiden stopped when I screamed, but he goes on hurting my brother when he sees that I’m seemingly powerless. I keep my eyes on Zakariya, no matter how painful watching him get injured is, but I slowly raise a foot and slip off a heel. I do the same thing with the other one.
Oliver starts to say something to Big Meaty Dude and that’s all I need. I shoot off running, using as much might as I can to propel myself out of the idiot’s grip. I stagger immediately as my ankle takes the weight of my body, but I grit my teeth past the screaming pain and escape just barely out of Big Meaty Dude and Oliver’s grasp. Summoning everything I’ve learned and gained from soccer, I run as fast as I’ve ever run in my life, though I stumble and other times almost vomit at the acute pain.
The wind beats against me, my shirt billows out, letting air whoosh in. I don’t care. My ankle is aching, but I somehow reach Zakariya, and grab onto him as he nearly stumbles to the ground. Immediately, at least five boys dressed in all black appear, encircling us.
“ZAKARIYA! Ya Allah what have they done to you?!” The nearness shows everything, leaving nothing in the shadows. Purple, blue, and black bruises take the place of the tan color of his skin. His lip is cut open and gushing blood. Cuts and scrapes run all over his arms, like lifelines, telling the story of everything that’s happened.
“Maysa,” he wheezes out.
Before I can respond, something grabs me around the collar. I’m slammed up against a hard, tall, muscular body. “Chill! Stay where you are!” A loud voice commands. Immediately all the boys in black, including Big Meaty Dude and Oliver, stop and stand where they are.
An arm snakes around my stomach. “So. You’re Maysa.” Hot breath hits the side of my face as rough hair brushes against me. I flail my arms out, trying to reach Zakariya, who has one of the bigger boys holding onto him.
This is the closest I’ve ever been to a boy. Tears pool in my eyes, but I keep my head down so that no one can see. I want to be touched by someone I actually care about. This is not how I imagined this going. I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears. Be a fighter.
“And you’re Aiden.” I say as confidently as I can.
He roughly spins me around; my head gets dizzy. Pale blue eyes meet mine. They’re hard, cold, unforgiving. Dirty blonde hair sweeps across a forehead.
“You asshole, don’t you…don’t you d-dare,” Zak swallows, trying to form the words. “Don’t you dare touch her. Keep your filthy hands off of her. She deserves better.”
Aiden simply laughs and motions at another boy in black. The boy immediately leaps up and grabs Zakariya, twisting his other arm behind him. “F***!” He shouts. “His blood is all over my s***.”
No, no, no. Please God, no. I look up at the heavens, keeping my face as far away from Aiden’s as possible. The power of his body has me held firmly yet threateningly in his arms. My barefoot feet protest at the feel of the dirty pavement underneath me.
“You know,” Aiden fingers the loose end of my hijab. “I can’t believe my brother or Jax didn’t think to take this off. Maybe I should.”
The minute he says that, the surreal-ness of the situation makes me snap. What is this, a f***ing B-rated movie? I’m not going to just sit here like a hopeless chick, letting a guy undress me.
I slap his hand away and he hisses. “Don’t you dare touch me, you asshole. I’ve done nothing to you.”
He laughs long and loud and shoves me away in disgust, but two boys in black immediately reach out and grab me. “That’s the best part.”
I laugh then; I’m freaking insane. I don’t know what the whole magnitude of the situation is, but I’m on a role. “Aiden, what’s really, really sad is that you don’t even have the guts to go after my brother. So you threaten him with me? What the f*** is wrong with you?”
He just grins. “You’re just making it worse for yourself.”
“Maysa! Seriously, don’t.” Zakariya’s voice breaks out. The fifth boy, the one not holding me or Zak, socks him in the stomach and Zakariya’s eyes widen, his body already bruised and hurt enough. My heart shatters as I see all the physical damage Zakariya has.
“Zak,” I began, trying to make my way over to him. The two boys holding me grab my arms and trap me, making it impossible to move. I struggle violently, the frustration spiking more and more when I can’t get out of their grips. I trash around, my head spinning so much that I want to throw up again.
“Aiden,” Zakariya wheezes out. “I’ll…make…a deal with you.”
Aiden laughs. “I’m not listening to this. The answer is no.”
Zakariya stands up straight, so much pain on his face that his eyes are squeezed shut. The blood is dripping down his chin, the cuts on his biceps oozing out blood, staining the white shirt he has on. His jeans are all ripped, and he has two nicks above his left eyebrow, causing blood to stream. His black hair is caked with blood at his hairline.
“I fight you, no weapons. If I win, I’m out of this for good. No more threats. And, you let my sister go.”
A laugh ripples through all of Aiden’s boys. ‘You’re f***ing kidding me, right? I beat you to a pulp. There’s no way you can fight me.”
As Aiden cockily states his answer to Zak, I swear I see some movement in the trees that makes me snap my head towards my left. It occurs to me then that I still don’t know where Shazia is. Is that her in the trees lining the edge of the parking lot?
A tall body glides through the air, landing so quietly that no one can hear it. I turn my attention back to Aiden and Zakariya. “No. No, Zakariya. I’m not going to let you do that.”
He shakes his head; the two boys tighten their grip on him. “No, Maysa. I have to do this.”
“No. I’m not going to let you. It’s not worth it.” I shake my head violently. I try to shake out of the tight grip the boys have on me in vain. No luck. In frustration, I blindly elbow one of them in the chest.
A sarcastic clap rings. “Sweet, truly sweet.” Aiden states mockingly.
“Aiden….” All heads whip in Oliver’s direction.
“Shut up, you little punk! I’m talking.” Aiden snaps.
Another movement to my left. Why is no one noticing? Maybe it’s a sign from God. Maybe it’s guidance. I don’t know.
This time, I can make out a definite figure. It’s a boy, maybe a man. Curly hair. That’s all I can see. His dark brown eyes stare at me and I glance over to Aiden. Aiden is faced away from the boy. He’s talking. “Jax, get this girl out of my sight while I finish beating the s*** out of this mutherf***er that’s trying to get out.” He reaches over and shoves Zakariya roughly in disgust. Blood from Zakariya’s mouth shoots out. I resist the urge to scream. “F***ing rich kid, thinkin’ he can just up and leave for college. What, one of those Ivy League schools, Zakariya? Gonna f*** some rich white girls and use your rich daddy’s credit card to pay for every f***ing thing?”
Jax, also known as Big Meaty Dude, motions for the boys holding me to let go. I begin trashing to make the process harder for them. I’ll be damned before I let my brother out of my sight.
The sickening sound of flesh and bone hitting flesh and bone makes me snap my head in Zak’s direction. A moan escapes Zakariya’s bleeding lip as Aiden stands over him. He kicks him once, twice, three times. Each time the sound of Zak’s moans break my heart and spike the panic. I’m exhausted from trashing around but I scream, “YOU CRAZY MUTHERF*CKER GET THE HELL OFF OF HIM!”
Jax slaps his hand over my mouth and I do something extremely gross: I lick it slowly and wetly. He whips his hand away and I break off running just as Aiden sails another punch at Zakariya’s face. Zakariya manages to snap up this time and land a punch on Aiden’s already black eye.
Immediately, all of Aiden’s boys are on Zakariya, grabbing him and beating him. I scream again, and the sobs break out as all the boys attack my brother at once.
It’s times like these I need a miracle. And subhanallah, I do get one.
A graceful, tall body sails out of the trees, runs at a faster pace than I ever can, and tackles Aiden to the ground with one leap. Jax doesn’t let me go, but all the boys hurry to leap onto the boy that tackled Aiden.
Aiden himself is maneuvering to get out from underneath the boy’s grip, but his knees dig into Aiden’s lower back and his muscular arms wrap around Aiden’s neck.
Oliver and three of Aiden’s boys—leaving two holding me and Zak—all try to jump the boy, but he rolls over, taking Aiden with him somehow. Jax keep his hold on me as he watches all the boys try to defend Aiden.
In the second long silence, a distant siren wails. All of the boys freeze. It’s unmistakable now, the sound of the sirens. They must be extremely experienced, because each one of them takes off running in five different directions, expertly disappearing.
A cop car wails and lights up the entire parking lot with blue and red. I stumble over to where Zakariya is and take off my blazer to soak up some of the blood.
A cop runs over to where we are. “Ma’am, what is going on here?”
It occurs to me after ten seconds he’s talking to me. I’m the only girl around. I look up from the blood-soaked blazer. Zakariya is lying there, not talking. His eyes are open, but he’s expressionless. “That guy was beating my brother up.”
I point blindly and when I don’t hear a response, I look up. The cop is looking at me weirdly. “Ma’am, are you ok?”
When I glance in the direction of Aiden and the other boy, they’re not there. I stand up so quickly I would have lost my balance if it wasn’t for the cop. I finally spot Aiden getting arrested.
“Oh!” The alarm summons the energy inside my body. I stumble over to the cop car where Aiden is handcuffed, cursing at my ankle. “Where’s the other boy?!” The cop reading Aiden his rights looks up.
“What other boy?”
“The…the boy! The other one! The tall one with the curly hair and the dark eyes.”
The wail of an ambulance cuts in and EMTs jump out where I’ve left Zakariya. They begin loading him onto a stretcher.
The lights and the fact that Zakariya is still just spikes my panic. “NO!” I run over to where Zakariya is. “Zak! Zak!” An EMT lightly shoves me away.
“Excuse me, miss, but are you related to him?”
I hiss in anger. “I’m his damn sister. So yes.”
“Well, we’re going to have to take him to the hospital. He’s not in good condition.”
They have him on the stretcher now. His eyes are closed.
The goosebumps and the thudding of my heart and the sight in front of me—Zakariya lying in a white stretcher with his hair and face caked with blood and his body black and blue—makes me scream. I scream so loudly I feel my earring sway from side to side and my throat burns like it’s been skinned raw.
The tears gush out then, fast and hot. “How much t-time has p-passed? Please, can you t-t-tell me?” The cops and the EMTs are all looking at me like I’m mental. Maybe I am.
The EMT who shoved me away says, “Joe, take care of her. We need to get this boy to the hospital ASAP. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
That catches my attention. “NO! I am going with my brother!”
“Lady, you’re not in good condition yourself!” He starts easing the stretcher up the ramp.
“MAYSA!” A shrill shriek cuts through all the commotion and everything and everyone—I swear—stills. Even the flashing lights stop flashing.
Noha runs over to where I am, Adam right behind her. She grabs me in a huge hug. “M-Maysa! What happened to you? Are you ok?”
The tears start gushing again at a familiar face. “Noh! Yeah. B-but Z-Zak is in critical condition.” As I’m explaining, the EMTs start to shut the door.
“NO!” I shriek. “I have to go with him!” But I also have to find that boy! Who is he?
“Maysa!” Adam speaks then. “Sir, please, I’ll go with my best friend.”
The EMT comes out and sighs impatiently. “You kids don’t understand! We’ve already wasted four valuable minutes! We have to get this boy to the hospital NOW! He’s racing against the clock! JOE!” He shouts at the police officer in exasperation.
The police officer holds up his hands. “Son, you have thirty seconds.” He nods at Adam.
The tears continue gushing. I’m so conflicted. I want my mom and my dad right now. Allah, where are they? I feel dirty, tired, my ankle is killing me, and my brother is lying in an ambulance, severely hurt. A cop car with Aiden in it drives away. Joe nods at it.
Adam walks over to where I am. We move off to the side. He hesitates. I can see the conflict in his eyes, but there’s not time to waste. He cups my face with his hands to lift my eyes up to meet his. “It’s going to be ok.” He whispers. No one can hear him well over the roar of the engines. He lowers his hands. “I’m going to send Noha with Zakariya, saying that they’re cousins. I don’t want her around here. Then, we can find the boy together. I’m here. It’ll be ok. I’ll be with you.”
Before I can ask him how he knows about the boy, Adam turns around to face the EMT and Joe. “My sister will go with the boy, Zakariya.”
The EMT just nods and Noha looks at Adam for confirmation. Adam nods and she jumps into the ambulance. They drive off.
“Where are my parents? I need to see them. Please, I need to see them.”
Officer Joe scratches his head. “Miss, the talent show taking place at your school ended ten minutes ago. They don’t know where you are, but they’re getting worried. Let’s head back to where they are."
Adam adds, “They’re with my parents.”
I shake my head. “No. I have to find the boy.”
Officer Joe stares at me. “Boy? There’s no boy, ’less you mean the one that got arrested.”
I shake my head again, this time harder. “No! This boy, I don’t—I don’t know how to describe him but I have to find him. Please. Give me three minutes.”
“No can do, Miss. We have to—”
I guess I do have a wild streak inside of me. Despite the stupid ankle, I run—well, hop. I run as quickly as I can, not caring that I’m straining my ankle even more. I don’t know how Officer Joe didn’t catch up to me, but I have a feeling it’s because he’s overweight and I’m a soccer player that’s used to this kind of stuff.
I make it all the way to the edge of school property, to the gate that meets the sidewalk. There’s a tall figure walking away, to my left.
Forget about stranger danger. “Hey!” I yell out. The figure stills and turns slowly. What if it’s a drug dealer? What if it’s a rapist? A pedophile?
But it’s him, the boy. “Please! My ankle hurts so I can’t do much but please come here for a minute!”
Slowly, the figure comes over, and as he walks, he takes his hood off.
My heart leaps when I see his face. His face is full of kindness. He’s handsome too, with a strong jaw, masculine lips, a straight nose, that curly hair, those dark eyes. “Hi.”
“Salam.” He says quietly.
He’s Muslim? Wow, what are the odds? Especially—“Please, I have to go now.” He adds.
“I won’t take up too much of your time. But thank you.” I want to start crying again. “Thank you so much for saving me and my brother tonight. How did you—”
“I was walking home and took a different route tonight. I don’t know why. Maybe it was Allah guiding me to you. I saw what was going on."
Breathing a sigh of relief and thanking God for helping me, I say, “It was amazing of you though. Jazak’Allah khair. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t—”
He holds up a hand. He smiles slightly, and his eyes are kind and humored. “You were feisty, so you reminded me of my sister. Something sort of like that happened to her once. It was—” He swallows loudly. “No brother should have to witness that. If you’re thanking anyone, thank her.”
Nodding, I feel my heart lighten. “And thank you for calling the police."
A look of confusion crosses his face. “I didn’t call the police.”
What? “Then…then who did?” Who could have called them? Noha? Adam? That makes sense.
He shakes his head though. “It was a girl. With one golden earring.”
When he says that, the golden earring in my pocket feels like it’s burning a hole through my jeans.
I know who called the police now.
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Salam! Hi! A couple of MAJOR announcements.
1) Wednesday, September 5th, is the 1 year anniversary of COAMG--and my birthday! So hopefully (iA) I want to upload. VOTE AND COMMENT FOR A SUPER UPLOAD..
2) WHO WAS THE BOY HELPING MAYSA?! Any guesses? First person to guess right gets a big ol' pressent from me, inshallah. But certain people may not guess. You know who you are ;D Anyhoo, comment below!
3) FootstepsOnTheMoon (I think that's her username...) asked me to spread the word about Burma, and the things going on over there. Guys, be aware of the world around us. Don't get sucked into material things. Keep our fellow brothers and sisters in your heart, regardless of what religion they are, etc.
4) NEW BOOK! Battered, With Love. Will you guys read it? Comment below and let me know!
5) VOTE AND COMMENT FOR FASTER UPLOADS! Woo!
All my love,
Ash ♥