Ali hates that his sister Alia (so creative of his parents. Really. Ali thinks they deserve an award for that) doesn't have to wake up to wash up, dress up, and trudge down the streets towards the nearest mosque for Friday prayers. That women in general don't have to do all that. She watches him now, over a mug of steaming milk tea. "You look different."
He glares at her over his own mug. There's half an hour left before he has to leave with his father. "Go on. Entertain me."
She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "You just look different. I don't know. Maybe your hair is growing out."
"I had a haircut last week," he tugs at his hair with his free hand. "Thanks."
She smiles and cups her mug between her two hands as she takes another sip. "How's your friend?"
"Which one?"
She rolls her eyes. "You know which one."
Their parents are somewhere else in the house. Their dad probably outside, checking for dates on their palm trees or feeding the stray cats that like to wander into their backyard. Ali never knows what his mother's up to. He wouldn't be surprised if she was standing outside the kitchen, just listening in to their conversation.
"Khalifa's fine. An idiot as always."
"He's cute."
Ali groans. "Please don't say that ever again."
"He is," she says. "Most guys from around here are shit, you know? But he never tried to chat me up like your other friends."
"Sorry, like who?"
She grins. "I don't kiss and tell."
"I hope you don't kiss at all," he says. "I mean, not trying to be a controlling older borther-"
"You're only older by a minute will you let it go?"
He sniffs, takes another sip. "As I was saying, if you're actually kissing, please don't let me know. Ever. I mean, I know I should tell you not to go around kissing boys, but you never tell me not to go around kissing girls, so I figure-"
"I get it," she says, setting her mug down. "Really. You talk way too much."
He sighs, leaning back against the kitchen chair. "I know."
Alia leans forward, resting on her elbows. "Just for the record, I haven't kissed anyone yet."
His shoulders relax. "Okay, good."
"But if I could choose I would definitely go for Khalifa."
Ali sets his mug down. "That's it. This is why I hate family bonding."
She laughs. "I'm joking, please sit down. Wallah, he's all yours, I promise."
Ali hates how he feels significantly better after hearing that.
-
Today's Friday's sermon is about hard work. Ali suspects he's not the only boy who has to go through finals week in about a month. The Imam speaks about working hard to get what you want, patience, and examples from the prophet's day-to-day life. Ali thinks, as he sits in the carpeted floor of the mosque (which smells like wet socks and men), that he'd really rather be in bed binge watching Friends.
Still, he's texted Khalifa (who never texts back because he's always asleep five minutes before he needs to go anywhere, and won't text back until after he gets back from the mosque with his father) before leaving about going out later today, so he has something to look forward to as his father has to nudge him to grab his attention.
