Halal Heartbeat

Chapter 2

Mazin

The next morning, my dad calls me. I'd been sleeping in my car all night and woke up startled. "Salam," I say briskly. He clears his throat, his voice dry. "I want to talk to you, Mazin." I pause for a bit but agree. I smush a piece of gum into my mouth and drive back home. Mama greets me with hugs and kisses. "Oh Habibi, I'm so glad you came back! Please, don't leave me again." I nod. "Ok, Mum." My dad leads me to the living room, and Mama backs out into the kitchen. It's just him and I. "Son, I got you a job." My eyes widen. "H-how? W-where?" I ask, startled. I'd given up from nursing school. This was the end of the road. "I have connections. You'll be working alongside one of their best doctors as your mentor. Her name is Dr.Mahmoudi." I only know one person with that last name, and with aspirations of wanting to be a doctor. Manal Mahmoudi. We went to high school together and parted ways after that. It's been years, about eleven to be exact.

Eleven years earlier:

"Leave me alone, Mazin!" She chokes through tears. I smirk and laugh out loud with my friends. "Oh shut up. You'll always be a worthless piece of-'' Just then, she slaps me. Straight across the face. Everyone goes silent and I touch my cheek, shaking with anger. I strike my hand across her face and kick her in the stomach. As she falls back, I continue hitting her, hard. She cries and groans in pain. I was too blinded by my anger to notice how far I'd gone. "Come on Bro, let's just go," My friends come to my side."Yeah, just leave her alone, she's had enough," After some convincing, we finally leave her there in the corner. Even as we walked far away she was still sulking, only herself for company.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for all the pain I'd caused her. But I finally have a chance to make it up. To do something right in my life. A second chance.

"Ok," I began. "When do I start?" Baba sighed deeply and took out a bunch of papers, scanning them quickly. "Monday. Oh, so tomorrow." His mouth curls into a cheeky smile as I groan. "This is a lot of responsibility ya waladi (my son). So you better get working." I nod quickly and get up to give him a big hug. He slaps my back and smiles. "Ok, you can let go of me now." We both chuckle together, and I have a feeling that life is good now. Bittersweet. I spend the rest of the day at home with my parents. Mama makes delicious traditional Lebanese mint tea and has cookies filled with delicious dates and coconut, my favourite as a child.

Manal

Finally, it's Saturday, my day off. And frankly, I couldn't be happier. So I called Mia over and right now, we were looking at old photos. "Oh my God, that was you?" I nod, embarrassed at the old photo. "I had a pretty weird faze as a teenager," I pause, remembering those dark days. "It was pretty tough for me though...I was bullied quite a lot." I flip through my high school yearbook. "What? No way! But you're, like, gorgeous. I can't believe that!" Mia shakes her head in denial. Flipping through, all my past memories flooded back. "I only had one friend back then. We lost contact though," I point at a dark-haired girl with glasses and olive skin. "Her name was Isabelle. Izzy, I called her. We were the biggest nerds in school but now look at me. Grown and successful." I smile at the thought. Flipping again, I find the most dreadful picture. Me and my bullies in the ninth grade. It was jersey day and they were all decked out in Dallas Cowboys and Lakers jerseys. But I had none of those, I couldn't afford them. So to fit in, I had brought an old undershirt and stitched it up with my favourite basketball team's logo; the Toronto Raptors. I was so proud of it. But they made fun of me and ruined it during art class. One of them had spilt paint on it. I remember crying to my mom when it hadn't come off. But I still kept it. "These were my, um, bullies," I point to their faces, nervously. Mia stays quiet for a second and then bursts out laughing. I give her a puzzled expression. What was so funny? "These were your bullies? Manal, you could've easily fought them off. They're, what, puny high school guys who think they're all that? Well guess what, in five years' time, you were probably on top of them! You're rich and successful compared to these guys!" She continues laughing and I join in. But I'm forced to stop when I get a phone call from my boss. I shush Mia and answer the call. "Boss," I mouth to her. "Hello, Dr. Mahmoudi?" He asks. "Yes, hello, how are you doing?" He chuckles and says, "I'm fine, thank you. I'm so sorry for calling on your day off, but I wanted to deliver the news right away." My blood drops cold.

This is it. The big promotion I've been waiting on.

"You've been assigned a partner. Well, a nurse actually. He's in training, and I wanted our top doctor here at the hospital to help him out." My smile drops completely and I try to find the words. "That's, that's amazing! I'm so excited." I plaster a fake laugh and smile. After we end our call, I let out a frustrated groan. "What was it?!" Mia asks. I fill her in and she continues laughing again. I really don't find what's funny; I could have gotten the promotion of a lifetime, and now I'm stuck with some nurse. Whoever this person is, I blame them for my life being ruined and potentially being thrown out of the back window. "Ok, I've got to go, but see you and your mentee tomorrow." I give her a smug smile and a hug. "Ha ha, very funny."

The next day, I make myself an açai bowl for breakfast. "Hey, what you got there?" Mina says, sliding down the staircase. "Açai bowl," I smile through a full mouth. "I've got work today, so I've got to get going." I groan, getting up to wash my dish. "Tell me about it." Mina follows me to the kitchen. "And today they're assigning me some nurse to help me out and be my mentee. It's humiliating!" I complain. Mina passes me my trench coat. "Well, Allah wished for it to happen, and so, it did." I nod in agreement. He always wants what's best for me. "Thank you," I kiss my sister on the cheek and walk out the door to my car. It's a simple black Mercedes. I like it that way. Cars with colours are just distracting and unprofessional. As I pull up to the hospital, I park my car to the side. "Good morning Dr. Mahmoudi." The secretary greets me. I smile and wave. I make my way to my office and there I see my Boss and another man beside him. "Oh Dr. Mahmoudi, you've arrived. This is Mazin Abdelrahman; Nurse Mazin." I turn pale and my jaw drops. And I think my Boss notices. "You two know each other?" Mazin answers with, "Yes" but I say, "Not exactly". An air of awkwardness fills the room, and I quickly excuse myself to the bathroom. All the horrible memories of high school, the pain, and the beatings. He was there.

I remember it was an English class and I was due to give a presentation on what we'd like to do in the future. "Ok, Manal, it's your turn." I'd been dreading it all day, but I was passionate about what I was talking about. "Hi, I'm Manal and I'd like to study to become a doctor. I feel it's important to save lives and..."

After my presentation, the hallway was empty. So they confront me at my locker. "Hey, Manal, what's up?" I dart my head up and sigh deeply. "Leave me, alone guys, you're not funny." Omar and Mazin laugh. "Don't worry, we just want to talk." Rolling my eyes, I tell them that I have better things to do. "I don't like your tone, young lady." They all move up closer and surround me. I try not to cry but a tear threatens to slip down. This has been going on for too long now. "Why do you insist on picking on me? Why me, Mazin? Go do something useful in your life, for once. God, I hate your guts!" One of them shoves me and I fall to the ground. My palms slap on the hard marble, feeling like they've been shattered. That's how I truly felt in the moment. "Because you'll always be worthless and die worthless. You'll always be fat and ugly as you are now; maybe even worse," He kneels down, facing me. As he puts his pointer on the tip of my chin and tilts it up, I swipe it away. But all he does is a smirk. "Looks like someone's been growing a moustache," Omar says, referring to my upper lip. He bursts out in laughter along with his friends. Sure, it had been hairy, but not too much. Mama never let me wax it and I was mad at her for it. They all get up and walk away. Slowly but surely, I pick my books up and wipe my tears away. As I'm opening my locker, I look at the small mirror perched up on the side.

"One day, things will change"

I tell myself.

"One day, I'll be on top of the world".