The Girl in The Green Scarf

F o r t y

C H A P T E R

40

- H a m s a -

"There's a difference between saying goodbye and letting go. Goodbye is not permanent, letting go is being okay with never meeting again."
-Shannon L. Alder.

Before I can reconsider the thoughts darting through my mind, I yank a scarf from the mess on the floor and secure it around my head.

If Sebastian won't - perhaps even cannot - come here, I'll go to him.

As I kneel to tie my shoe laces, a sound penetrates-a door closing with a loud click.

I carefully peer out into the hall, and see Yahiya easing off his shoes and massaging the back of his neck.

"A'ssalamu Alaikum," he calls.

Quickly I dive back into my room, apprehension flaring hotly in my chest. I cannot tell Yahiya about my plans. Even if - and that's a big if - he understands why I'm doing this, he wouldn't let me go to Sebastian's house alone and that's the last thing I need.

My ears perk up at the sound of thudding footsteps ascending the stairs. I have to determine my next course of action quickly. Should I just make up a lie, or do I tell him the truth and take my chances. Just then my gaze flickers to my open window and a smile creeps onto my face.

Wasting no time, I climb over the windowsill, securing my arms on the frame, and reach for the tree branch. In three swift moves I descend the tree, just as Yahiya enters my room mumbling, "I could swear I heard someone in here."

I smirk to myself, ignoring the sting of guilt pounding at me for sneaking out of the house like this. But I have no other choice.

My sneakers race silently as I run to the front yard. As I hop over the fence, I spot Uncle Osama looking out the window from across the road. I wave, hoping I don't look suspicious enough for him to bring this up with Lamees.

Air crashes from my lips and sweat traces my spine as I turn the last street to the discipline courtyard. I focus on the loud smack of my shoes against the asphalt, in time with the beat of my heart.

I slow as the mansion comes into view; the open iron gates, the stretching gardens, the tinted glass walls. Numerous guards surround the premises. I jerk in place for a moment, debating my next move.

I don't have a choice, I have to talk to Sebastian; tell him about the bombs, and the forged letter the camp sent... I have to ask him where he has been all these weeks if it isn't his dad who's responsible for these attacks. And most importantly I have to tell him about my feelings, whatever they may be.

But what if he doesn't want to see me anymore, what if he's sick of his Muslim friends and this is his way of letting us down easy?

My heart trips at the thought and I furiously shove it away.

I just have to play this out, no matter the consequence. With an ugly mutter I push on but not long before I'm stopped by one of the many guards standing at the front gate.

"You! Stop right there," the guard barks, pointing his club at me.

In a perfect world, the gate would be unmanned, and Sebastian would be out in the gardens, taking a stroll. I would walk up to him, he would greet me with his stupid nickname and then I'd pour my heart out to him. But my world has never been perfect, and it's stupid that I'd think it'll suddenly start now.

"I'm-" I start, but he cuts me short, jabbing my shoulder with his club.

My nostrils flare, my chin jutting high. "Hey!" I snap, but quickly gather my self-control.