Halal Heartbeat

Chapter 8

Manal

As I approached our driveway, cars were lined up. "Alsalamulaikum everyone!" I walked in the house, placing my book and purse on the staircase. "Manal, you made it! I was so sad, I thought you'd miss the fun!" The bride exclaimed. I gave her a hug and we walked into the living room where women were listening to music, chatting, and doing each others henna. The bride's name is Batoul. We're cousins, but I consider us friends too since we went to the same middle school. I always knew that with her charm, she'd get married first. After giving hugs to all my friends and aunties, I slipped my Hijab off. "Here, let me do your henna. Pass me a tube." I tell her, referring to a tube of henna. The rest of the night goes well and we try to sleep as early as we can. Which ends up being 2:47 A.M. Batoul, Amina, and a few other girls bunk in my room for the night and since there's no space, Batoul has to bunk beside me. The rest of the girls are asleep, so she strikes up a conversation. "Is there a special man in your life?" She smirks and I burst out laughing at that. "Pfft, no Batoul, stop trying to force it out of me. I'll probably be single till my last day." She smacks my arm lightly. "Manal, don't say that! Getting married is completing half your deen (religion). One day, you'll meet the man of your dreams and he'll love you for who you are and treat you like a princess." I smile cheekily. "He better treat me like a queen, that's what." After bits of chatter, we decide to hit the sack in order to wake up in time for the wedding.

I take a seat alongside my friends and we wait for the bride and groom's entrance. "So, how's life girls?" Sahar asks while shoving a samosa in her mouth. "Great, great, Alhamdullallah." Amina replies. "How about you?" Sahar asks. I smile and sit straight. "Wallahi, it's good, my main focus is work right now," The rest of the girls move in closer and ask me to spill all the details about hospital drama. As I'm talking, I take a glimpse at the door and see Mazin walking straight towards our table. "Well I guess the drama's heading our way," I say and excuse myself. The girls get the hint and pin me to my seat. "Alsalamualaikum, ladies," Then he turns to me. "I didn't know you'd be here." I scoff and smile. "Batoul's my cousin, of course I'd be here. And how about you, Mazin. What brings you here?" I ask. Mazin chuckles. "The groom's my best friend, of course I'd be here." After a bit of silence, he excuses himself. "Isn't that Mazin Abdelrahman, your high school bully? And you're talking again?!" Sahar asks, surprised. I sigh deeply. "Unfourtunatly." Suddenly the lights dim and Batoul and her groom emerge, hand in hand and smiling. They couldn't look any better together. After making their way down the aisle, they slow dance. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. After their dance, people file in to dance and congratulate the newly weds. "Come on Manal, it's time for the brides maids and grooms men picture with the newly weds." Amina says, pulling me up. I stand beside Batoul and she hugs me tightly. "After this, promise me you'll dance with me. It'll be my last bit of fun with you." She whispers, tears in her eyes. "Toula, don't cry, you'll ruin your makeup. And plus, marriage doesn't mean you won't have fun anymore." I explain, using her nickname. She takes a big laugh. "Then why don't you get married, you hyppocrite?!" I join her and we can't stop giggling. As promised, I drag her to the dance floor and we kick it off together.

Mazin

"You like her, Bro?" Mohamed, the groom asks me. I almost choke on my sparkling cider. "No!" Then I re-evaluate my answer. "Yes, I do. I'm just not sure if she feels the same, you know." His face twists in confusion. "Why wouldn't she, Mazin? In every single girl's eyes, you're a strong, attractive, thoughtful man, of course she'd love you." I sigh deeply. "Mohamed, she'll never forget all the pain I caused her. If I was Manal, I wouldn't forgive myself either." I take a glance at the dance floor and see her dancing, happy and all. I could never make her feel that. I don't stand a chance.

I'm in bed when I get a call from work. "Doctor Brandon?" I ask. "Why're you still at work, it's two o'clock in the morning." He chuckles. "Just finishing up some papers. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that the operation date has been moved up. Which means that it's not happening in a month, rather two weeks." I sigh deeply in exasperation. "Doctor, I-'' He cuts me off. "Mazin, I'm sure you're more than ready. Dr. Mahmoudi's taught you well." We say our goodbyes and I flop back in bed.

"Morning Manal." I say, picking up my phone. "Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?" She asks. I lie and say no. "I just wanted to let you know that Brandon's moved the operation to two weeks from now and I still need to show you a few things so we can succeed." I nod. "Ok, well we don't have work today, so do you want to meet somewhere?" We decide on a coffee shop and her car broke down, so I'm picking her up. The weather's a bit chilly as winter's coming in, so I turn the heater on. I stop in front of Manal's house and honk the horn once. She comes out bundled up in a knee length coat and a big fluffy scarf. I try to hide my grin but fail. She eyes me up and dow and bites back a smile. "What's so funny?" I shrug. "Nothing, come on, get in." She rolls her eyes and sits in shotgun. "This ok?" I ask after a while, referring to the heater. She nods, smiles, and looks out the window.