The Girl in The Green Scarf

T w e n t y - s e v e n

C H A P T E R

27

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."
― Ernest Hemingway

- H a m s a -

"As you all can see, our Island, Aquila, or as the intruders decided to call it, Aurora, lies exactly here " I draw a white chalky cross over the Celtic Sea on the old worn out map hanging on the board in front of me. I was taught geography on this same map a long time ago.

"France is all the way down here." I skim over the map, stopping to circle France. "While England is to our North." I underline the word England on the map with so much force that I almost rip right through it.

I turn around to look at the students of my third period class, all bored and tired. Not that I blame them. I notice that Khalid is biting his lower lip - a habit of his I've come to know means a question is going through his mind. And just like I expect it to, his hand pops up.

"What is it Khaled?" I smile, stepping away from the board.

He lets his hand down and places it under his chin, staring up at me with thoughtful eyes.

"Why can't we and England just be friends Miss Misa? We are practically neighbors, right? Didn't the prophet, peace be upon him, say to do well by our neighbors?"

His question is somehow sensible but also really naive. My lips part, forming the first of my answer when a voice coming from the doorway interrupts me.

"Yes, why can't we, Misa?" My gaze rests on the cheeky intruder - none other than Sebastian.

He is leaning on the doorframe with all the audacity in the world, hands tugged safely into his pockets. The smug smirk etched on his face is slightly crooked at one end. I reposition myself so that I am completely facing him. The sound of the end of my chalk drumming against the desk fills the room.

"Because English people are evil, manipulative bastards," I say with a fake honey sweet smile. Then I realize I said this out loud in a class full of kids and I all but bite off my tongue.

A frown pulls at my face. AstughfurAllah. The things this boy makes me do. Why is he here to begin with?

"I think you are judging an entire nation based on your opinion on a single person. You should give English people a chance, they're not all like me, you know."

Why is he even speaking?

"What does the word bastards mean, Miss Misa?" Dania asks innocently, the foreign word rolling around her tongue with struggle.

My head snaps in her direction and I promptly answer her with bewildered, alarmed eyes. "It's a bad, bad word; you should never ever say it."

"Why did you say it then?" Anas asks, eyes narrowed.

I shoot him a deadly look and he raises his hands in front of him defensively.

"Bad word. Got it. Dear God, why are you so on edge? I feel unfairly persecuted."

"You're too young to know what persecuted means," I say.

Sebastian snickers. "I don't think it's wise for you be a teacher. You're such a bad influence on these kids."

He straightens up and steps into the room, striding to the front of the class. Sebastian Walsh, I've come to notice, strides to places. Apparently walking is for regular people. I tilt to face him again, and end up standing with my back to the door.

The smirk on his face never fades. It aggravates me so much and I want to stretch a hand to slap it off. Alas, I've already done enough wrong for one day.