Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 37 -- Seven Kids and Birthday Wishes

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Recap of Last Chapter

Zakariya explains to Adam, Maysa, and Noha how Aiden operates. He recruits a lot of different people for different tasks and keeps their attention diverted as he deals with the dirty stuff using the information he's gathered from them. Maysa finds out that Rayyan set Zak up, and she says she forgives him and understands sort of where he was coming from. Lastly, Adam confesses his love for Maysa, because he's just super cute like that. They confess their feelings for each other.

Chapter 37

Seven Kids and Birthday Wishes

☻ Noha Ali ☻

            She better love me for this. He better get his act together or something because I am about to throttle the guy sitting next to me on the bus. Thanks to my realization that Maysa was going the opposite way that she usually does, probably looking for either Shazia or Rayyan, and the conclusion that it would be nice to let Maysa have some time with Adam so she could talk to him and so that he could comfort her, I’m sitting next to a black guy who clearly, clearly, thinks he’s the child of Lil Wayne and Eminem, if the volume at which he’s rapping is any indication.

            “You gave me no lo-ove, you gave me no lo-ove.” Rapper Boy croons on. Would he notice if I slammed my forehead against the seat? He wouldn’t notice, right? I turn to inconspicuously observe him. His eyes are closed but he’s looking up towards the ceiling. He has his headphones in, and he’s rapping along, but he’s literally shouting. I think everyone on the bus can hear him. And to make matters worse, he’s not that good. He’s two seconds behind Lil Wayne the entire time.

            Adam and Maysa, the things I do for you guys. You better appreciate it. I think darkly. As I zone out Rapper Boy, I wonder if what I did was wrong. Should I have purposely given them some time for themselves by opting to take the bus home instead of riding with them? The reason I did it is because I understand that while Maysa is my best friend, she and Adam share a bond, and when it comes to emotions, he understands her more than I do simply because they’re so alike.

            When my stop comes, I thank Allah that Rapper Boy and I are about to part ways and step out into the chilly winter air. As I enjoy the quiet walk home, I replay Principal Barton’s conversation in my head. Hearing it hashed out again and then comparing it to what Zakariya said, I know that there are certain details missing, not on purpose, but because I’m beginning to realize that all of us are tied in loyalty to other people and our own pasts. Each one of us knows a different piece of this story, yet we haven’t fully shared it.

            Zakariya and I both know how Aiden is left-handed. That night in the park, when he rode over after he picked up Maysa’s phone, we witnessed Aiden do a drug deal and beat a guy up. He did it all with his left hand, and I remember this precisely because Zakariya is left handed as well. Sighing as tears threaten to leak out from under my eyelids, I glance up at the sky. Ya Allah, is it possible to seek Your help and ask for change without wanting my entire past laid out? I don’t know. I wish I did, but there are times in my life that I feel like I’m a mature young adult who has a grip on things, and at other times, I just feel like a lost sixteen-year-old kid who inevitably screws up. If only there was a cure for adolescent stupidity.

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            Speaking of age, my birthday is in two days. Zakariya’s birthday is three days after mine, and when we were younger, we used to have this joint birthday get together thing at either one of our houses because we all had the same friends. That was awesome, because then I could have my guy friends who were invited through Zakariya, and he could have his girl friends and whatever girl he liked could be invited through me (he used to like Farah and Naomi back in the day). We haven’t done that in a few years. I miss that, miss it like I miss a favorite pen. Okay, maybe not a favorite pen, but more like how I miss my grandfather. It’s like one of those moments that you desperately wish you could get back, a moment you’d give anything to have again. I want that again. I want to be a kid, before all these responsibilities started sneaking up on me until I was overwhelmed by my own life.