THE DEGREE OF HAPPINESS

23

I turned on Daisy Jones and the Six and continued to listen from the part I'd left off and lay down on the bed, so that I did not have to think about Soroush.

Guess what I did?

I thought about Soroush.

After a while, I just accepted defeat and turned my phone off. Ammaty had to return my tablet and phone before leaving the house and now, those two were precious to me. I did not take my phone for granted any more, even if it did have a cracked screen.

The knock on the door startled me. I placed the scarf around my head and opened the door.

It was Soroush. With my bag. And a tray with a drink.

"Hey. Listen, I did not mean...."

I shut the door in his face and turned around.

Obviously, I immediately regretted that action, the way I regretted everything in life.

"Open the door and take the drink, at least," he said, "And your gift. Jida wouldn't like it if you don't take any of these. She made it. The drink cup."

I groaned and opened the door, my gaze cast low. He handed me the bag and I took it, casting it over my shoulder, followed by the tray.

The tray had a large purple clay mug with a latte, the word Sorry written on it.

"That was a lie," he said, "I made the coffee. Though, she did make this cup. Fun fact."

"Hmm," I said, "Apology accepted."

With those words, I shut the door.

I looked at the cup. At the carefully written sorry and took a sip.

It was good. Just the right texture of creamy and awesomeness. Soroush had magic in his hands, for sure. Whoever Soroush made upset would definitely be surprised by his good latte skills.

"Soroush, are you there?" I asked.

No answer. I hit my head against the door.

Now I owed him an apology for overreacting.

-----

Because school had started, Mr. Anwar would be teaching in the evenings. After school.

After getting ready for school (donning on a black hijab with a white shirt and loose, black jeans), I ate the breakfast that mom made for me: scrambled eggs.

Mom did not say anything. There was a silence between us, ever since Ammaty left. Except for important stuff, of course.

After finishing my eggs, I said, "I will be back home late. Mr. Anwar and all."

"Ah, yes," she said, "You need his classes, don't you? To make up for your lack of skills."

She was pouring water in a tray for ice cubes, with careful precision.

I curled my hand into a fist, "Yeah. But I'm quitting after this month."

She stopped what she was doing, placing the jug down.

"Why?" she asked.

I shook my head, "I can't. Go there."

"Then, do you want to switch tutoring centers?"

"No, I just don't want to go to a tutoring center," I replied, "At all. I think I can understand in class better."