Muslim Love Story (Under Major Editing)

Chapter 1 - ARRANGEMENTS

Edited. ✅

x HIRA x

"Hira!" I heard my dad call from downstairs, his voice loud and practically bouncing off the walls.

"Coming!" I yelled back, no where near as loud as him as I put my textbook down onto my bed and got up, leaving my room and shutting the door behind me.

My name is Hira Hamid. I'm half Egyptian and half English. My mum reverted to Islam after meeting my dad exactly 27 years ago, alhamdulillah. My Egyptian side definitely was more prominent as I clearly inherited most of my features from my dad. I had thick, dark hair, a caramel natural tan and big, dark eyes.

My older brother, Waleed is 25 years old and unlike my parents, who were very studious in school, decided not to attend university, but alhamdulillah he's quite happy as a personal trainer and the leader of our mosque's leisure activities committee. Waleed, like me, also got most of his features from our dad. We were practically identical, except he is much more tan than me. Not naturally, but because he spends a lot of time tanning as he has a passion for swimming and spends most of his spare time in our pool in the backyard, under the sun.

My younger brother, Hassan had just turned 7. He was the only one of us three who actually resembled my mother. He had a beautiful set of blue eyes and porcelain, pale skin. He also had the bubbly personality which matched her as well. Hassan's career path was already obvious. He would become an imam or be pulled into some sort of religious occupation. He had a talent for memorising the Qur'an very easily and even at seven years old, his recitation was better than mine and Waleed's. He already had five juz of Qur'an memorised Alhamdulillah, even though he didn't attend any hafidh programs. If he had, I was sure he would have been a hafidh by now.

My mum aged 45, is a paediatrician and has her own clinic with multiple customers who she has been helping for years now. She is a slightly chubby woman who has fair skin and bright, blue eyes. Her original name was Mary and then, after marrying my dad, she changed it to Mariam even thought it meant the same thing. She was convinced Mariam sounded nicer.

My dad, Ali, is 47, although he looks much younger than that, mashaaAllah. He is a lawyer at a well-known local firm and is also one who has one of the highest success rates in all of the state. The complete opposite of my mother, he is very stern, traditional and disciplined. It was a characteristic that did him well as a lawyer. Even though he has always been very affectionate to us, when he got angry...boy, did he get angry.

Walking down the final steps of the staircase, I saw my dad and mum sitting beside each other on the couch and my little brother watching Islamic cartoons on his iPad.

Waleed was on the dinner table, a bowl of cereal in front of him as he scrolled through his phone, probably on social media.

"Yes, baba?" I asked, looking at him from where I was standing up next to the couch.

"Can you sit for a couple of minutes?" He asked, clearing his throat. I nodded as I walked in front of them and sat on the single couch next, reaching over to mess up Hassan's hair and making him groan.

I loved annoying him.

"Something wrong?" I asked, leaning forward as I waited for my dad to speak.

He looked apprehensive about what he was obviously going to tell me and even by the simple look of uncertainty on his face, I knew that I wasn't going to be thrilled at the upcoming announcement.

"I got a call today." He said, clearing his throat and looking at me with weary eyes.

"From?" I asked when he didn't continue on with whatever he was planning on saying. My heart rate increased a little. Did something bad happen?