His Hafizah and her Hafiz

Ominous

⚠ Warning: Might be horrific to readers to some extent. 

Safoora POV:

"Oh Allah, please let the day end. Please, please, please..." I prayed repeatedly in my head, staring up at the digital clock bolted on the highest peak of the white smooth wall. Mrs. Johns, my new English teacher had started lecturing us for the past few hours and sadly there were no signs of stopping anytime soon. She had a pointer stick in hand and the holo screen open widely, pointing to us the few significant stages in a fictional story.

With my elbows propped up on the table and my chin on my hand, I pretended to listen to the teacher attentively with my fullest observation. Wow, a teacher really had to move their mouth a lot!

"Safoora, what's the climax of the Ring of Five?" Mrs. Johns suddenly glared at me as I crashed hard back to reality again.

"Umm... he dies." I sputtered unsurely.

Mrs. Johns rolled her eyes, facepalming herself. "You weren't paying attention, I see. Just remember, come up with a better excuse next time please. The main character most of the time never dies."

Okay, my bad!

The dismissal bell rang loudly and Mrs. Johns nodded, "Class dismissed, have a great day everyone. You may leave the room." We all scrambled to pack our bags and head out the door hastily. Class was finally done for the day!

 Slinging my cute jean side bag over my shoulder, I hastened my speed towards the bus stop. Abu Hurairah was no way coming for me so I'd rather go home myself. Who needs him anyway?

"You're Safoora, right?" Someone touched my shoulder gently to gain my attention.

I turned around finding an average niqabi girl staring at me with hope twinkling brightly in her chocolate coloured orbs. "Yes?" I nodded slowly.

"Hafizah?" She asked, as we both slowly sauntered towards the same direction together.

I nodded again quizzically, "Yes."

Why was she asking so many questions, was she some kinda stalker?

"OMG." She immediately jumped on me, choking me with her tight embrace. "I freaking missed you so much."

"Sorry, I didn't really get who you are?" I muttered uncomfortably under her hold. This situation was totally awkward, when was the last time I was hugged by a stranger? Never, I think.

"I'm Aisha... remember?" She raised her brows hoping I would recognize her in an instant.

Who the heck was Aisha?

"Sorry..." I trailed off with confusion, smiling politely. "You probably got the wrong person."

She stared at me with boredom, crossing her arms over her chest. "Seriously Safoora, you forgot me already?"

"Sorry--" I started again.

"My sisters, Aidah and Airah. We're triplets. We did hifz together. Ring a bell?" She stared at me again with hope burning in her eyes, as she held onto my shoulders for any slight recognition.

"Oh, Aisha." I breathed blithely, pulling her in for a warm hug. Flashback flickered through my mind one after another; us competing together as we memorized our lessons, me staying up nights to finish my sabaq, sometimes flunking classes together. It was all a train of past memories now, a treasured sketch pasted in the back of our minds.

"How are you here?" I asked with bewilderment after we both pulled away from the solemn embrace.

"I am Jordanian, duh." She said with an obvious eye roll, "How did you forget so much? The real question is, why are you here in my country?"