Converting the Bad Boy ✔

Chapter 1

Salaaaam!
Jazakallahu Khair for the lovely support in the preview. Dedicated to So_Relatable for her lovely comment!

After rereading the first chapter, I realized that I like it just the way it is, so here it is once again, exactly how I left it.

Hope you enjoy ;)

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Bismillahi Rahmani raheem          ... بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَنِ الرَّحِيم

All good things started with Bismillah.

The universe was one of them.

It was only fitting to start the last year of high school in the name of Allah, because if there was one thing I wanted to accomplish this year other than graduating, it was earning the pleasure of Allah. I knew that whatever happened this year, I would be able to get through it In Sha Allah, and as long as I strove to please Allah, he would reward me in this life and the next. As long as I stuck to the path – the path to graduation, and the path to heaven – I would be fine.

However, may I point out that it wouldn't be easy? This path wasn't paved and polished for me – oh, no. It was cobbled and wonky, cracked and spiky. There would be stumbles, there would be falls; all due to rocks, sticks, dead birds (okay maybe not dead birds, but perhaps other miscellaneous objects you'd find on a path) and...Damian Brewer.

***

"Mims! Mimi! Mar-mar, Mary, Maria, Maaaaaz –"

"Yaz, how many times do I have to tell you? Keep your voice down," I scolded, though I was slightly amused by my jumpy friend. She was maybe a bit too jumpy for the first day of year 12, but that was Yaz for you. 

"Sorry, Mariam, I'm just so excited to see you!" Yaz flung her arms around me, suffocating me with her perfume more than her grip. That girl wore enough perfume to knock out a skunk.

"You saw me three days ago at study camp," I reminded her as we merged with the rest of the high school students. 

"Yeah, but three days is a long time to be apart from your bestie," Yaz pouted, hooking her arm with mine. I smiled, despite how cheesy that sounded.

"Aw, well, if it gives you any comfort, I missed you too," I replied as we entered the senior locker area. Seeing the same old people I'd gone to school with for the past five years was both comforting and annoying, but at least it would be the last year I'd have to endure them all.

"Can you believe this is our last year?" As usual, Yaz and I were on the same wavelength. "I'm really going to miss all these people."

"Even the annoying ones?" 

Yaz shrugged. "Sure. They were the ones that we'll always remember when we look back. The troublemakers, the jokers, the bad boys -"

"I'd rather not remember them," I said distastefully.

"But you will," Yaz winked. 

"Unfortunately," I muttered. 

"And everyone will always remember you as the kind-hearted hijabi queen with a little sass in her pocket," Yaz prodded my nose with a cheeky smile. 

"I could live with that," I nodded in approval. I was, after all, the only hijabi in our senior year, however there were a few others in the younger year levels, including my sister, so naturally, I had a responsibility as the oldest.