by S. Nahar
Damon: I wouldn’t go that far, genius.
Me: Thanks for the compliment.
Damon: U always seem to trap me like this, don’t you?
Me: I wouldn’t be Amira if I didn’t.
Damon: Guess ur right.
My heart rapidly thumped against my chest and I had no idea why. Here I was, ignoring my assignments and to-do-lists, simply because I was too distracted by a boy and his messages. The same boy who insulted me too, nonetheless. Honestly, what is wrong with me?
Me: Oh my. The great Damon I-don’t-know-ur-last-name admitted defeat. Shocker.
Damon: My last name is Winters. My email username kinda gave that fact away.
Me: Well, how was I supposed to know that?
Damon: It’s called using ur brain, idiot.
Me: I am not an idiot! How dare u?!
Damon: I dared myself.
Me: If anyone is an idiot here it’s u, playboy.
Damon: Playboy? Yeah real original.
Me: Y thank u. I do try.
Damon: XDDD
I smiled. It was fun talking to him. Who knew he was such a weirdo? I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty though. I knew I wasn’t supposed to do this. Heck, I never even had a conversation like this with the opposite sex. I didn’t have any males on my contact list. Why is Damon on it then? Why couldn’t I just ignore him? I was praying to Allah that whatever these stupid butterflies in my stomach were, they should be gone soon.
There was also a matter of his previous inhibitions toward me. Not knowing what compelled him to spark a conversation with me; I wondered if there really was more to be explored when it came to the curious case of Damon Winters. His kindness proved that there was more to him than his arrogance and negative perception with Muslims.
Damon: U there???
Me: Yeah.
Damon: So, do u wanna tell me what happened that day when I saw u crying?
I sighed, not this again.
Me: I already told u.
Damon: U told me a crap of a lie. Tell me the truth.
Me: I did. Deal with it and move on with ur life.
Damon: Y don’t u trust me enough to tell me?
Me: It’s not about trust.
Damon: Then what?
Me: It’s personal.
Damon: I hate u.
Ouch. Well, that hurt.
Me: Just because I won’t tell u about my personal life? Ur crazy.
Damon: I hate u. I hate u. I hate u.
Me: Fine. Whatever. I already knew u hated me.
Damon: What do u mean? I was joking. I don’t hate u.
Me: It seems like u do.
Damon: I really don’t.
Me: Whatever. I have to go.
Damon: Bye :(
I logged off. I leaned back against my chair and sighed. Why am I even talking to him? I knew it was wrong. Allah said not to even go close to Zina (unlawful sexual intercourse). I wasn’t going to have sex, but talking to him casually was wrong, and might even lead to something like that one day. I shivered, praying that it would never happen.
Realizing that it was getting late, I prayed Isha (night prayer) and went to bed. That night, I wondered if talking to Damon would really lead to something more.
***
After praying Fajr (dawn prayer), I walked downstairs and found Mum sitting and drinking some tea. Desi people loved their tea. They couldn’t function without it. I shook my head at the thought.
“Morning, Mum. Where’s Baba?” I asked, as I kissed her cheek.
“Oh, your father went to work early today. If you want, Tanwir can give you a ride to school since it’s all wet outside,” she said.
I felt like all the blood in my face dried out. I didn’t want to talk to Tanwir, but I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever.
I sighed. “Okay. Only if he’ll take me though.”
Mum nodded. “Tanwir! Come down here!” she yelled.
I heard a groan followed by heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.
“What?” he asked, sleepily.
“Take your sister to school.”
“Can’t she just walk going there?”
“It’s all wet outside. Just drive her there.”
“Fine,” he said. Tanwir turned to me. “Hurry up and eat, tubby”.
I was already dreading the fact that I would be trapped in a moving vehicle with him.
Save me, Allah.
***
We drove in silence. The tension wasn’t thick like what Damon and I had at the library before; in fact, this silence was comforting in a way, knowing that Tanwir would not confront me about that night. I saw sadness lurk his eyes whenever I saw him, but it seemed like we promised to never talk about what happened, upon witnessing the destruction it had caused.
Sometimes, secrets were better left untouched. Nothing ever harmed people from not knowing or understanding.
I finally decided to break the ice. “So, what’s up?”
“Are you really asking me that?” he answered.
“Just trying to make small talk,” I muttered.
“Well, you suck at it. Try something else to make small talk.”
“Since you think you’re so good at small talks, why don’t you start it?”
“Alright, fine. Do guys stare at you in school?” he asked seriously.
My jaw dropped. He thought this was small talk. “Wait what? I said small talk not big talk,” I spluttered out.
“So, guys do stare at you?” he said slowly with a hint of anger.
“What? No! Of course not!” I exclaimed.
“Good. I thought I was gonna have to beat someone up.”
“Typical brothers,” I mumbled, under my breath.
He glared. “Oh, shut up. Get on with your life, tiny.”
“I’m not short. I have a pretty good height, you know,” I argued.
He pulled over in front of the school.
“We’ll discuss this later. Now get out. I wanna get some sleep before going to college.”
***
As I was walking to my locker to prepare for the first period, Damon ran up to me with his black backpack hung over his shoulder, and a stack of books in his arms. His tousled brown hair stuck up from all over the place like he had spent a night of endless tossing and turning, yet his eyes remained a bright evergreen.
“‘Sup, cover girl,” he smiled.
“Cover girl? You’re so lame,” I said, as I rolled my eyes.
“It was way better than playboy.”
“It totally was. You are a playboy,” I scoffed.
He placed a fist over his heart. “I am offended,” he acted with a fake hurt.
I stuck my tongue out at him which only made him chuckle at my childish antics. Speaking to Damon without our differences hanging over our heads like bullet targets, felt so surreal compared to when we first met. Although I knew about his fight, I tried my best to not bring it up. I didn’t tell him my secret, and he didn’t have to tell me his. It was a silent pact.
As we were talking about our project, Maya walked into our conversation, bursting our dreamlike bubble.
“Hey Damon,” she purred, as she twirled a strand of her hair.
Damon looked at her with a disgusted expression. “What do you want?” he grumbled.
“I thought we could hang out tonight,” she said while glaring at me.
Whoa. Bratty attitude much?!
“Sorry, I’m busy tonight,” he told her.
Maya’s face turned red. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft already?”
I was about to say something but Damon protectively stood in front of me, and beat me to it.
“Watch your mouth, Maya. She has done nothing to you. Stop picking fights when nothing concerns you,” he spat out angrily.
She stood shocked, fumbling for words. “Do you know you’re defending a Muslim right now? Or did you get brainwashed, too?” she questioned, sparing me one nasty glare.
Damon froze lik
e an iceberg had crashed upon him, stuck in a moment of time, where for a split second he had defended me. He had his prejudices and I never properly addressed them after the library. We both pretended as if that moment never happened. When Maya pointed out his stance, I felt certain that Damon would now ignore me for the rest of the year. Our conversations wouldn’t change a stoned heart in an instant.
He straightened his spine, his chin slightly jerking up, as he stared down at her blankly. “Amira is… my friend. This has nothing to do with religious beliefs,” he said with a passive voice. Without waiting for her to respond, he turned to me. “Come on, Amira. We have a class to go to.”
I followed him, reeling in shock. He had established our friendship not only to Maya, but to everyone around us. Damon had spoken the words with such ease that it was hard to believe he was the same guy who claimed I was blinded by my religion.
“You didn’t have to do that. I could have handled it,” I said, approaching our class.
Today was our presentation day, but I was still too curious. “But why did you do it? You don’t even like me?”
He shrugged. “Friends can have differences, too. But I still don’t like your beliefs, so don’t get any ideas.”
I only smiled.
Chapter 7
Gym Class Horrors
Amira Sarker
Once classes were over, I decided to head out to school immediately until Aria stopped me in my tracks.
“Amira!” she called.
I swung my backpack on my right shoulder, and turned around to face her. “Yeah?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. I have a lot of stuff in mind, and you’re like the first person I go to for advice,” she admitted, sheepishly.
I felt pride at her words, but I didn’t want to brag about it and be conceited. It was nice knowing that I could give good advice. I just didn’t want to think of myself better than everyone else because I probably wasn’t.
“Oh, well… sure. I’ll call my mom, and tell her I’m going to your house,” I said while reaching for my phone in my pocket.
“Cool, I’ll be waiting outside my car. Meet me there,” she said.
I dialed Mum’s number, and she answered on the third ring.
“Assalaamualaikum.”
“Waalaikumasalaam. Mum, I’m going to Aria’s house for a while,” I said, already knowing what her reaction would be.
“What? No! It’s not right to be going to someone’s house on a school night.”
I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see it. Mum was very protective of me. She wasn’t quite fond of the idea of me hanging out at a friend’s house for too long. I understood why she was all jumpy about it. Girls lied to their parents to hang out with boys where she grew up, and a whole lot of “things” happened after that. Anyway, she trusted me, but not other people easily. She trusted Aria though, but it’s her motherly nature to question me.
“We need to talk about some things, so I’m going to meet up with her at her place. If it gets too dark, Aria will take me home.”
“What are you girls going to talk about?” she asked, suspiciously.
Even though I understood her reasons, it didn’t make it any less annoying to my teenage mind. Oh Allah, grant me patience.
“I don’t know. She just wanted to talk and hang out. Don’t worry though, Aria is a good girl. You know that,” I persuaded.
She sighed. “Alright. Just don’t forget to pray.”
“Okay. Assalamualaikum.”
“Waalaikumasalaam,” she replied, hanging up.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I started to walk towards Aria’s car. As I neared Aria’s silver vehicle, I saw Damon chatting with his friends outside of his black car. He casually leaned against its frame; his arms crossed over his broad chest, as he threw his head back and laughed, a deep, sensual rumble that delivered shivers down my spine.
His emerald green eyes lifted up to see mine, locking our gazes. I wasn’t sure where we stood with each other on terms of friendship. Regardless, I hesitantly lifted a hand to wave, offering a small smile.
He only nodded in acknowledgement before tuning into his conversation again, instantly smiling at whatever his friend had said. Ouch, I thought with a slight wince, he could have at least waved back. He’s acting like we’re strangers to each other.
We were strangers though. Sure, he defended me once, but that didn’t mean anything. Nothing could melt a frozen heart like Damon’s. He decided to close the shutters on being open-minded and hearing me out when it came to religious explanations. He established that we were “friends,” however; friendship came in many different forms. Judging from how coldly he dismissed my wave, I wasn’t very high on his friend chart, probably just above the thin line of being an acquaintance.
I sighed. Boys were a waste of time, and I was a fool for dwelling too much about it.
There is a reason why Allah says to lower your gaze. Easier said than done, but I still have to try, I thought.
***
We were seated on Aria’s bed. We had just finished our tedious homework questions before we collapsed on the bed, allowing schoolwork to slowly drain our will to be productive again. After a couple of light-hearted conversations, Aria began to confess her worries.
“I really like him, Amira. I never really felt this way about a crush before. Could this be love?” she asked me.
Love. That was a thing that I’ve been yearning for. When I was younger, I even dreamed about having my future spouse until now. There were all these stereotypical concepts of love. Many people thought that love was making out, touching, and a whole lot of sexual actions. They threw the word ‘love’ around like a toy, messing with another’s feelings like it was a game. It was absolutely disgusting and demeaning.
Love was supposed to be someone who would always be there for their significant other, and support them through their good times and bad times. They wouldn’t be perfect, but they still accepted their flaws. That person was not only a lover or spouse, but also a best friend.
“Well, that depends. Are you only attracted to his body or looks? For example; you guys mostly just flirt when you are together, and you enjoy his presence because he’s always touching and kissing you,” I said.
Aria thought for a while before responding. “Actually, we haven’t had a lot of big make outs. We kiss and all, but we mostly just talk and hang out. It’s not really an intimate kind of sexual relationship like most people at our school do. I just like talking to him, but of course I like it when he kisses me. I mostly like his presence because he brings out a lot of good in me,” she smiled at the thought.
“Then, it looks like you might be in love,” I grinned.
Her smile fell as her gaze lowered, eyes brimming with the misery of a one-sided romance. “But he doesn’t love me,” she whispered.
I scooted closer, wrapping my arms around her. “You don’t know that just yet,” I tried to reassure her.
“He doesn’t seem to notice me anymore or want to hang out. I might be in love with him, but he probably just thinks of me as an average girlfriend who he doesn’t love. I don’t even think he likes me anymore.”
“Shh. I know he’s been acting like a jerk lately, but guys are like that. They don’t know how to express their feelings. I’m sure he does like you a lot.”
“It’s like I don’t know him anymore,” she mumbled.
I pulled away from her. “Hey, just talk to him. If he doesn’t feel the same, then he is an idiot. Don’t waste your time giving love to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Okay?”
She nodded her head.
I checked the time, realizing that it was getting late and I still had to pray. “I got to go, but you know I’ll always be here if you ever need a shoulder to cry on,” I smiled, voice as soft as the roses that decorated her bedroom wall.
She sniffled. “Thanks, Amira. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t ment
ion it, but I seriously need to go. I might miss my prayer,” I rushed in a single breath as I practically ran out her bedroom door.
In a Muslim’s life, prayer would always come before everything else. It was the very essence of a Muslim soul, the sustaining portion that kept a stable mind away from insanity.
Salah (prayer) was supposed to help ease, and relax a Muslim through the most difficult parts of his or her life, and I relied on my prayers heavily. Hearing Aria talk about her love life falling apart made me wonder about the day that I would meet the perfect man for myself, the man Allah created to be paired with me. A part of me longed to be like Aria or any of the other high school girls.
But the other part knew that all good things came with patience.
***
“Alright guys we have a special announcement to make,” Baba said to us.
We were eating dinner when Baba decided to tell us something important. I wondered what the special announcement was, but my mind faded back to Damon. Why am I even thinking about him?
“What?” asked Tanwir.
“My parents are coming to America from Bangladesh. They got their visiting visa,” Mum smiled.
I blinked, coming to terms with what my mother had just said as Damon’s image evaporated from my eyes. “Wait, what?” I questioned, confused. “They’re coming here?”
Mum nodded excitedly.
I felt my lips curl upwards, mirroring my mother’s happiness. My grandparents and I were separated by an entire ocean and continent. Visiting them was costly, so we only went back every couple of years. It hurt to not see my family during Eid or on the weekends like other kids. I would only hear their voices over the phone, but now I would finally be able to hold my elderly grandparents in my arms, hugging them close like I did as a child.
I hadn’t seen Nanu (grandpa) or Nani (grandma) for four years. Nanu had a broken hip from falling off his bike, so he could barely walk now while Nani had bad hearing. It would be a blessing if they came, we could actually help fix some of the burdens they were given.
I glanced at Tanwir, noticing his expressionless face as a dark scorn traced his lips, cold and unforgiving. He wasn’t exactly on socializing terms toward any part of the family.
