Muslim Love Story (Under Major Editing)

Chapter 3 - HER

Edited. ✅

x AMIR x

"Hira Hamid, make your way to the principal's office, immediately!" The man said into the microphone, his eyes slightly narrowed. He pulled away and clicked the microphone off as he gave me an apologetic look, but I couldn't care less about what he had just said.

Hira bloody Hamid. Is that what he had just said?

No.

No way. Please, ya Allah, let this be some scary coincidence.

"Who?" I asked the African American man sitting in the big leather chair across me, my eyes as wide as saucers as I felt my jaw grow slack.

"Hira Hamid." He said, smiling at me, his bald forehead shining under the light. "She's a lovely girl. One of the highest achievers of our school. I believe she's Egyptian as well actually. You two will get along perfectly, I hope."

I hope the hell not!

I clenched my fists in my lap and breathed in and out deeply, trying to control the rapid beating of my heart.

She was definitely the girl that my dad was trying to make me marry. There's no way I was lucky enough for this to be a coincidence.

I had told him countless times that I did not want her, or anyone for that matter.

Every time I told him I wasn't ready to get married, he'd say something along the lines of 'you'll never know you're ready until you go ahead and do it' which was one of the stupidest things I've ever heard in my life.

I wonder if she knows that I'm the guy that she's being arranged with.

God, what if she acts all desperate now...I really couldn't deal with some girl swooning at my feet.

Three delicate knocks were heard on the dark mahogany door before the principal called for the person to come in. It was almost as if the knocks had instantly stopped the beating of my heart.

I almost felt like I was suffocating.

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I looked to the door as it opened, my pupils dilating on their own accord at the girl who stood in the doorway.

She was nothing like what I had imagined her to be.

The girl standing in the doorway right now was tiny. A petite, slim girl clad in a pair of tight jeans, most of her legs covered with a black jacket and Puma runners on her feet. I was sure they were children's sized shoes.

Her complexion was fairly tan, with doe-like brown eyes and perfectly shaped lips, her naturally long eyelashes letting off a small shadow on her smooth cheeks.

She didn't even look at me, instead, she stared directly at Mr Tyson, her gaze unwavering.

Was she avoiding me on purpose?

This was new.

"Morning, Sir." She said. Her voice matched her petite form. It was smooth and soft, sounding delicate and feminine. "I'm sorry for the delay." She apologised shortly, although it didn't sound heartfelt.

"Good morning, Hira." The principle replied simply, disregarding her apology.

Hira.

The name sounded nice in my head. I was yet to test it on my tongue, knowingly refusing to call her anything except for 'the girl' whenever my father had spoke about her to me.