by Beth Fred
“I don’t have a blonde girl, and I’m not following you around. We live on the same street.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” I wanted to lock my hands around this girl and shake her until she got some sense, or at least dropped the caustic bite that rolled off her tongue every time she opened her mouth. But I have to admit something about this exchange was hot, too. Wait a minute, hot? I can’t believe I even thought that for a millisecond. It was the kind of conversation I’d never have with Kailee. A girl like Kailee would never be this blunt.
Mirriam sped up, to get rid of me no doubt. I’d never been so hated by a girl, but I had more than a thousand bucks riding on this, so I increased my pace to match hers. “So you’ve been here for two years?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Where were you before Killeen?”
“The East Coast. Texas really is as behind as everyone says.”
“The East Coast is a big place. Care to elaborate?”
“Will you quit asking me questions if I do?”
“You could ask some questions.”
“For what? I’d have to care.”
Bitch. But she kept talking to me, so while she claimed she was completely not interested, she was not not interested. This girl was such a guessing game. It was maddening.
“Glad I’m so insignificant.”
We walked for a while, and then she said, “Baltimore. We went to a refugee camp in Maryland, then a church from there, then the spare room of an American family’s home, and finally the projects.”
“That’s a lot of moving in two years.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Mirriam, I don’t understand. I’m really not trying to start a fight, but if it was so much better there, why didn’t you stay?”
“I can’t really talk about it, but it wasn’t safe for me to stay anymore.”
“So at least in that way, it’s better here, right?”
“Except if they hadn’t done what they did, it would be safe for me at home.”
“You mean the war?”
She shook her head violently. “No, Caleb. Not exactly, but I can’t talk about it. Leave me alone, okay?”
“What’s your favorite color? That I know you can talk about.”
“Black.” Of course. But then she surprised me. “Why does everyone think you’re so cool?”
I laughed. “I didn’t know they did.”
“Right.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the football thing. It is Texas.” But I’ve become much less cool, since you started publicly rejecting me every chance you get. Something struck me. I could make a go for it now, and if she rejected me, no one would know. Should I do it now? Or should I wait? I’ll be walking home for a while. “What are you doing Friday night?”
“I’m not allowed to date. And just so you know, if I were, I still wouldn’t date you.”
Slam. But at least, no one was around to see it.
“Wow, you’re cocky.”
“Excuse me?”
“What makes you think I would ask you out?”
“Why else would you care about my itinerary Friday night?”
“Uh. You are my Gov partner. Maybe, I wanted to work on the project.”
“You don’t really strike me as the type to spend a Friday night studying. And we haven’t even nailed down a project yet. At this point, we don’t have a project.”
“All the more reason we should be working on it.”
“Fine, I’ll meet you at the library.”
“Fine... Hey, Mirriam?”
“What?”
“You should have seen the look on your face when you realized I wasn’t asking you out.”
Her cheeks colored a little, as much as her caramel skin tone allowed, and she glared at me.
I kicked myself for walking into a Friday night study session with Mirriam, but I’d do it again to see that look on her face. I was sure when Mirriam spent a Friday night studying, she actually studied, but I didn’t care. I was under her skin the way she was constantly getting under mine.
Driving her crazy was fun. In fact, I might be glad that piston blew.
Chapter 6
Mirriam
Maybe, it was that stupid, barely-accurate Spanish pick-up line he’d used the first time we met, but when Caleb asked me what I was doing Friday night, I thought he would ask me out. I didn’t mean to be rude to All-American Boy, but I had to get the facts straight. First of all, if Abrahem thought I was dating anyone, especially a typical American jarhead, he’d kill him and lock me up somewhere. More importantly, I didn’t date guys that hit on random girls.
When I realized he wasn’t asking me out, a flicker of disappointment ran through my chest, and he made it obvious that he knew. As if being the outcast Iraqi girl wasn’t enough, I was a loser, too.
He was right, though. We had a project we needed to work on. A project we hadn’t even started working on. So Friday night, I’d be at the library. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.
Caleb
I rode home with Josh and Matt on Friday. We hit the Sonic and then Josh’s house to grab a few of his dad’s beers before his parents came home. We were watching “Rob and Big” when Matt remembered Kevin’s party was that night. He wasn’t one of the guys I usually hung out with, but he was cool. Besides, there would be plenty of free alcohol, so when Matt asked if I was in, I said sure.
I hadn’t been at the party for ten minutes, when Josh asked, “How is your prom conquest goin’?”
I must have had more of a buzz than I realized, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Prom conquest?” Kevin asked.
“Our man Caleb owes me a thousand bucks, if he can’t take a certain girl to prom,” Josh explained.
Kevin shrugged. “Big deal. Caleb always gets the girls.”
“But this girl hates him,” Josh continued.
Everyone must have known how much Mirriam hated me, because Kevin grinned and said, “Who? That crazy A-rab chick?”
I wanted to punch him in the face. After seeing Mirriam on the curb, I understood. She wasn’t crazy. A little bit bitchy maybe, but she’d been through hell. I didn’t knock the shit out of Kevin though, because I remembered something else.
“Oh, shit. I gotta go,” I said.
“Where are you off to?” Kevin asked.
“Study date.”
“On a Friday night?” Matt asked.
“You never study,” Josh said.
Kailee and her minions walked through the door just then.
Matt’s eyes traced from the door where Kailee stood to me and he said, “If she’s here, who are you in a hurry to meet?”
I didn’t answer.
No one said anything for a minute, and then Josh laughed. “I guess it’s true about wantin’ what you can’t have.”
Matt’s forehead creased in confusion. I stayed quiet, because I had no idea what Josh was going to say.
“He’s off to meet that crazy A-rab chick.”
“She’s not crazy. And it’s nothing special about her. I want my twelve hundred bucks.”
I grabbed a Mountain Dew from a bucket of ice on the coffee table because I couldn’t show up buzzed and turned for the door, but Kailee saw me on my way out. “Hey, Caleb,” she said.
“Can’t talk.” I walked past her. She was on my heels, and I caught her death glare out of the corner of my eye.
I had no idea why I cared. I could just call Mirriam and tell her I’d be late. No, I can’t because I don’t have her number. If I don’t show up, she’ll hate me more.
I had to make it there. I ran the whole way. By the time I reached the library, sweat beads dribbled down my face.
Chapter 7
Mirriam
I walked home from school on Friday alone. Caleb got a ride with the jocks—assuming his Jeep ever broke down in the first place. I enjoyed the solace. He really was the most annoying guy I’d
ever met.
I showered, changed clothes, and packed something for dinner before heading to the library. What a surprise. Caleb wasn’t there. I checked the clock on my phone. I was ten minutes early. A debate or something else that didn’t require too much cooperation was our most solid bet. I didn’t know how many study sessions with Caleb Miller I could stomach. I took out a notebook and started brainstorming ideas for projects that could be divided and conquered without too much joint effort. I turned the page and started brainstorming specific debate topics. Caleb hadn’t shown up yet, and now he was ten minutes late.
I didn’t know which debate topic was best, and I didn’t think it was a decision I should have to make alone. But I did think I could use the same sources for most of these topics. I searched for books in Killeen’s pathetic library. It was one story—a single room—and the librarians hadn’t completely learned the “new” electronic system, so trying to find anything was like looking for an earring in rubble.
Another big surprise—all I managed to find was American propaganda. I could do better than this online. Actually, I would do better than this, when I got home tonight I’d go online and see what I could find. I was tempted to have someone back home send me something, but no one knew where I was. They couldn’t. It was safer for everyone that way. I could probably buy an Iraqi publication online, though.
I checked the clock on my phone again. Zmal, is this jerk going to show? He’s half an hour late. I promised Abrahem if I was here after dark, I’d call for a ride, even though I didn’t like the idea of him having to leave work to pick me up. If I left now, I would have plenty of time to get home before dark, and why should I spend all night here when my dumb jock partner was out partying?
I shoved the books in my bag and headed for the door. I nearly walked into Caleb in the doorway.
“Givin’ up on me?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re late.”
“Got stuck in traffic.”
“Too many rednecks on their way to a football game?” Of course, I knew it wasn’t football season. I heard people lament it every day.
“Your English is really good for a foreigner.”
“Your English is really good for a Texan.”
I tried to step around him, but he blocked me. Caleb was a big guy, but even in a heated argument, I’d never felt threatened by him. I didn’t like being trapped by an All-American Boy, though. I attempted to glare at him, but my look must have been more hesitant or scared than angry, because Caleb put his hands up in front of him with open palms as if to say, “I’m sorry” and stepped back.
“So I’m late, but I’m here. Don’t you think we should work?”
“You’ve wasted half an hour of my time.”
“You’re willing to make your first B over half an hour?”
Like I’d make a B anyhow. But…
“How did you know I’ve never made a B?”
He gave a cocky smile. “Lucky guess.”
Oh, I’m so ready to kick this guy. “Like everything else here, the library sucks. We could do better online. I’ve already pulled anything I thought might be useful.”
He shrugged. “It’s still a good place to work.”
What could I say? All-American Boy was right. “Fine.”
“That’s your favorite word.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Only in English.”
Caleb
We sat at one of two tables in the back of the library and worked. Mirriam was still convinced we should do a debate. She made it clear she wanted to see as little of me as possible.
“Why do you hate me?” I asked.
“What?”
“Why do you hate me?”
“Ugh, you are so annoying.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She cocked her head to the left, and I watched her eyes as she processed something. “No, actually I think it is.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
“That’s my favorite word, remember?”
“Well, I’m borrowing it. A debate might be a good idea.” Although it would make my prom conquest harder if we weren’t spending time together. And I had no intention of paying Josh, or letting the guys pink out my jeep, which I fully intended to have fixed by then. “We’re both stubborn enough. I think we could argue each side well.”
Her mouth dropped. “We are not stubborn. You are stubborn.”
“Then what are you?”
“Right.” It was annoying, but hot at the same time. Hot? Again? Seriously, Caleb, get a grip on reality. This chick is not hot.
But either way, I was beginning to realize I liked hanging out with this girl. She wasn’t like other girls.
Mirriam took out her class notes and opened one of the books. She started scribbling away, and when she looked up and saw that I wasn’t, she said, “If you don’t have anything to do, I can give you something.”
God. She was so annoying. I grabbed a book from the pile and set to work. We were doing preliminary research to pinpoint a narrow question for the debate. We had worked long enough that the library would be closing soon, and my stomach growled.
“You wanna grab a burger?” I was aware of how much like a date that sounded, but it wasn’t. I was starving, and I needed to be working on the whole prom thing, anyway.
She looked at me with a blank expression. She leaned over and pulled something out of her bag without ever moving her eyes from the book. Then she placed a blue container down in front of me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Much better than a burger.”
I opened it to find some flat bread with a couple of dips that didn’t look appetizing and one big burrito. I grabbed the burrito and went for it. It wasn’t bad. The meat was really tender and it had a good flavor, but it didn’t taste anything like a burrito and had no spice. It was a prime example of why burritos should be left to Texicans. “Not bad, M,” I said. “Not spicy enough, though.”
For the first time all night, she moved her head out of the book. Her eyes connected with mine, lips turned up in a rare smile, face flushed. Mirriam laughed. “It’s not spicy, because it’s not supposed to be spicy. You infidel, not everything that’s wrapped up is a burrito. Geez.”
I placed the burrito back in the container. “Did you call me an infidel?”
Still laughing, the way she smiled at me, I couldn’t be mad. But it was annoying.
She shrugged. “Don’t be an infidel.”
“What if I called you a raghead?”
“Your blonde did.”
“I’m sorry you heard that.”
“It’s life.”
Chapter 8
Mirriam
I didn’t see Caleb come out of his house Saturday. Not that I was looking. Sure, I may have glanced in the direction of his yard through my window once or twice, but I was not looking for Caleb.
I got up Sunday morning and cooked our meals for the week. Ommy had been working night shifts at the hospital since we moved here. She needed all the help she could get, and Abrahem was working a lot these days, too. That left me.
Of course, they asked me to come to the service when they left around noon, but I opted out. I enjoyed cooking. The smell of the food reminded me of home. At home, I would have never been in the kitchen cooking, but I liked that I could get lost in this. Not think about how badly things sucked here and just do something for a change.
I went to service at five that night alone, because both my mother and Abrahem were at work. I wore a pastel pink sweater tank, because it matched my favorite mantilla, which I tightened securely with pins. The tank top fit me well, almost too well. I wouldn’t usually wear it, because it made me uncomfortable, but it was the only thing that matched.
Walking home, I saw Caleb in his front yard. He jogged into the street and met me, studying me from head to toe. I had noticed him doing this before, and it never bothered me, but today it made me self-conscious. Then he focused on the pink lace covering my hai
r. His eyes never moved away from it, even when he said, “I ate your burrito, so I figure I owed you a meal.”
I shrugged. “Not necessary.”
“I’m bored and hungry. Eat with me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “To work on government, right?” Because if I got caught eating alone with a guy at night while my family wasn’t home, Abrahem would think I was dating, and I’d never see daylight again.
Caleb shrugged. “Sure. Let me get my mom’s car.”
I veered my gaze to the road. “I’m not allowed in cars with boys.” At home this was a normal thing to say. I wouldn’t even have to say it. No decent boy would ever try to get me alone with him in his car to begin with. But here, it was ridiculous. Especially since there was no chance Caleb and I were dating.
“Okay, we’ll walk.”
Every few seconds his eyes flickered to the pink cloth on my head. I couldn’t decide between waiting it out to see what he came up on his own and just telling him.
At Pizza Hut, he pulled out my chair. “Thank you,” I said confused.
“It’s a Southern thing.” He smiled. “What do you want? Cheese? Veg? Hamburger?”
“Pepperoni.” I really loved pizza. It was one of the few things that was close to the same here. We had Pizza Hut in Iraq. Or at least we did before the war. I hadn’t been home in two years. I couldn’t say now.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“M, I’m not trying to be a jerk, but what’s the thing on your head? I’ve never seen you wear one before.”
Blood rushed under my cheeks again like it did the first time he’d called me “M”. I’d never had a nickname before and didn’t even know that I wanted one. Usually, it annoyed me when people shortened my name, like it was too much work to say Mirriam. But when Caleb called me “M” it was nice, like a secret only for the two of us. Still, I laughed at his question.
“I only wear it when I go to service and for like weddings and funerals.”
“I thought ya’ll go to church on Fridays.”
Why would I go to church on Fridays? I was completely confused. Then I realized he thought I was Muslim and burst out laughing. “Caleb, I’m not Muslim.”
