Hooked By The Hijabi

Five

Grey-eyed Adonis

Maha

I'm wide awake at seven-forty on a Wednesday morning and I ask myself why. I don't have a single class today and I should be sleeping until noon. If Mom would allow me that is. Her demonic flip side is... well, intimidating, to put it mildly. I screw my eyes shut, willing myself to fall through the portal to another dimension. I don't.

After cuddling my pillow for another minute, I shift upright, swing my legs off the bed and slip my feet into my flip-flops before deftly gathering my hair into the low bun which Tan's sister had helped me perfect over multiple sleepovers at their place. Before I mastered it I used to keep getting my fingers tangled with my hair. That was almost two years ago, by the way.

"Maha," Pop looks up from his half-eaten omelet as he hears me shuffle into the kitchen, "what made you decide to grace us with your presence this early?"

I wince as I watch Kaif sloppily buttering a slice of bread. It's not a sight I'm accustomed to, although I'm the one who told him he seriously needs to step out of his OCD.

"Something's going to happen. Something eventful. Momentous. Historic." That's what I'm going to chalk up my inability to sleep to.

"Like what?" Kaif asks with an air of vague interest. His eyes are transfixed on his phone as his thumb mechanically scrolls through whatever is displaying on its screen. Probably revision notes for a supposed pop quiz. Unless it's international news- something he likes to apprise himself with. He has social medias, quote 'only because that's another source of global news' unquote, but he's not an addict.

"I don't know. I'm waiting." I answer. I pour Cocoa Puffs into a bowl, deluge it with milk and plop myself up on a stool after fetching a spoon. I shove a spoonful of the cereal and glance around, only now realizing my mom's absence.

"Your mother is meeting with a friend." Pop answers my unspoken question. Then adds, "She assigned me to wake you up at nine. Thank you for saving me from that terrifying ordeal."

Wow. I have my great opportunity to sleep in but I can't. Fantastic.

"I don't know about historic events but your mom did leave you some things to do." Pop juts his chin towards the refrigerator where a blue Post-it has been stuck. I crumple my face at it.

Kaif crosses over to the sink and washes his hands. He dries them with a paper towel before hiking up his backpack from the floor. "I'm going."

"Fee Amanillah." Pop and I chorus.

Once the door shuts behind Kaif, my head snaps at Pop. "You're not planning to let me deal with whatever nightmare is listed on that innocent little paper by myself, are you?"

"I wouldn't have imagined if it had been the weekends." He places a hand over his heart for dramatic effect. He then forks the the remaining of his omelet into his mouth, downs his coffee and stands up. Shrugging on the coat of his suit, he then lands a peck on my forehead and leaves for work.

I tip my bowl and slurp milk. You'd think a twenty-two year old would have more grace. I can literally picture my mom's disapproving glare. I set down the bowl and glance at the Post-it and sigh resignedly. "There's still one other person I can turn to." Then pull out my phone from my PJ's pocket and fire a text to that person.

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The depiction of household chores may at first seem like Cinderella gently sweeping the floor while she sang songs of love and joy- not of back-pain. After taking numerous I-can't-do-this-anymore breaks and Tan pushing and dragging me around we are in a position to say we did a bang-up job. Most of the tasks in the list have been ticked off. I'm dumping the clothes from the laundry basket into the washing machine while Tan types away on her phone.