Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 24 -- The Femme Fatale and the Bad Boy

Salam everyone! Hope you all are happy and doing well. If not, I wish happiness and peace upon you ^_^ Anyway, this is the latest chapter. It's rather...interesting. Have fun getting to know Zakariya a little bit more!

Mrs. Malik: How are you going to find a husband with that attitude?

Maysa: It's ok. I'll just marry a white guy and convert him.

Chapter 24

The Femme Fatale and the Bad Boy

☼ Maysa Malik ☼

I sigh and grab Monopoly off my shelf. Come on, Maysa. It’s now or never.

Nodding at myself and whispering ‘bismillah’, I make my way over to Zakariya’s door. Noha gave me the idea to spend some time with Zakariya, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had nothing to lose, like Noha said. He’s my brother.

I weigh my options. I can either spend time with my brother or do homework. It’s a constructive way to procrastinate, so I opt for chilling with Zakariya. I knock on his door. “Yeah?” He calls out.

I take a deep breath. “Can I come in?”

Silence. Please, Allah. Please. I beg silently. “Wait. Ok, come in.” He says reluctantly.

“Tada!!” I brandish the Monopoly game from behind my back, the edges battered from harsh handling over the years.

Zakariya stares at me with his intense brown eyes, looking a few shades lighter because of the sunlight streaming through the window. “Monopoly?” He swallows. “Where was that?”

“I found it on my shelf. Mom never threw it away.” Mom always threatened to throw away the game because of how beat up it was. I guess she always knew how special it was for us though – Zak and I spent so many days fighting over who got to buy what place.

“Oh.” He looks down. There’s something on his hands.

“What’s on your hands?” I ask, confused. His eyes snap up and he looks out the window, looks at the wall, anywhere but my gaze.

“Nothing.” He says hastily. He hides his hands. The silence allows me to focus on the smell. It smells like…

“Zak, what the hell is that smell?” I can’t place it.

“Maysa, nothing. Can you leave? I have stuff to do. A load of homework. Senior year is hell.”

I cross my arms. “No. What are your grades?”

“They’re fine.” He says tersely.

“Don’t believe you. Don’t you dare start slacking off in school, Zakariya. Don’t ruin your future over some stupid thing in high school.”

“You sound like Mom.” He mutters.

“That’s a good thing. Come on, we’re playing.”

“We’re what?” He looks at me in disbelief.

“Me, you. We’re playing. Hurry up, because I’m going to buy Boardwalk.”

His eyes spark. “Hell to the no. Boardwalk is mine.” I mockingly shake the game at him. “Fine. We’ll play one game. If it gets too long, we’re cutting it, alright?”

I dance. “Yay! Ok, you’re setting up.”

He looks like he wants to say something but I give him my sweetest smile. He snaps his mouth shut and begins setting up. We sit on the floor of his bedroom, me in grey sweatpants and an oversizedBostonUniversityshirt; him, still in his school clothes. I rock back and forth in happiness; I haven’t been in Zak’s room for this long in…well, a long time.