Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 19 - The Perfect Arab Match

Just read on and enjoy for now. Blabbering comes later ;)

Picture on the side is Chad Michael Murray as Austin Ames in A Cinderella Story. ----->

"Every Muslim girl knows what it’s like to find that one perfect dress, only to find a major flaw in it that makes it completely unwearable." -- Noha Ali, Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 19

The Perfect Arab Match

☻ Noha Ali ☻

            The car is silent, just like it sometimes is in the mornings. I love getting up early, but right now, I’m tired.

            I feel restless, like I have been for the past three days. I physically can’t keep still, and even going to sleep every night is a battle. Ever since I heard Aiden saying something about Zak, I’ve been trying hard to remember every single detail of that night, that night of the dance when Aiden Becks talked to me for the first time, the only time.

            “Hey. Why are you crying?” Those words, meant to sound sweet and concerned, sound taunting coming out of his mouth. I gulp. Fear seizes my heart. I don’t really know Aiden Becks that well, but I know enough to stay the hell away from him.

            “It’s nothing.” I mumble.

            “What?” He asks gruffly. “I can’t hear you.” Uneasiness seeps into every nerve of my body, making my blood run cold.

            “It’s nothing.” I say, louder this time. I get up and begin walking away. He grabs my arm.

            “I’m not done talking to you.” He nearly shouts. I turn and shake my arm out of his grasp and wait for him to say something – anything.

            “I got something for you.” He says grinning. He rummages through his black leather jacket’s pocket. He pulls out a brown paper bag that has been folded into a tiny square. I don’t know what it is.

            He attempts to place the bag in my hand but I clench my fingers around the soft material of my dress. It is only then that I realize that I am wearing a sleeveless dress in the company of a boy.

Self-disgust fills the pit of my stomach. I feel anger at myself, at the world. “Don’t you frickin’ not take it!” He bellows. I snap out of my daze and stare at him in confusion. He’s face is set in anger but a few seconds later he suddenly smiles.

“It’s nothing. Just some drugs. You don’t want it? Cuz it’ll make your pain go away.” He tries to convince me. I shake my head numbly. Drugs?

“No.” I say in a tiny voice.

He looks at me in shock, then turns around quickly and motions at someone behind him. A fresh batch of tears overflows out of the corners of my eyes so I can’t see who or what it is.

He looks back at me, grinning. Cold fingertips of danger and warning grip at my heart, seizing it mid-beat. I start to back away slowly, fixating my gaze on him, at what he’s holding.

            The car suddenly lurches to a stop. I look at Adam, startled. He apologetically looks back at me. “Sorry. Light just turned red.” I nod and look back out the window, thanking Allah that today’s reality is much different than the one I am thinking back upon.