Emeralds

Thirteen.

Thirteen

[Leen]

I get home on Sunday’s afternoon, as I went to my Korean class after school. One thing everyone can tell about me is that what I love is books, books, books, learning, and papers. I am fond of reading, writing and studying (stuff I’m not forced to study, of course).

Anyway, I don’t get the chance to reach my room upstairs when mom comes and tells me we’re having guests tomorrow. “Okay,” I reply casually. “Who?”

“Adam and his family,” she says.

Oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God.

Wait, what?!

“Why?” I ask in bewilderment.

“He called your father and said there’s something he’d like to discuss with him,” she answers.

“Ah, maybe it’s about Mariam’s new job.”

“I don’t think so,” she smirks.

“Then what?” I hate when I feel idiotic sometimes.

“You need to start working on tomorrow’s dinner from now,” dad says passing by. Oh, no; that’s the thing I hate about visitors.

“I’ve already ordered the grocery I need,” mom replies.

“And sent me to buy the rest of what she needs,” Abed says, catching his breath and just coming from outside. “I’ll take these to the kitchen,” he says taking the dozen supermarket and bakery bags he’s carrying.

I go to my room and find Jenin on her desk doing something on her computer. I can’t forget what she’d told me, and I don’t want any further conflicts with her–I don’t have to hurt my pride again. I drop my bag on the bed and go to our bathroom in the room, take a quick shower and change into comfy pajamas. I stand in front of the mirror and comb my thick light brown hair, and decide it’s too long it needs a cut. I make a mental note to pass by the hairdresser tomorrow after school.

I get out, make myself a cup of coffee, and spread the Korean papers on my desk. It’s studying time! The Korean sentence structure is killingly difficult; it’s so different from English and Arabic and I feel like my head is all messed up, and I almost forget Arabic (my mother tongue). For God’s sake, why would a sentence be arranged like: I home-at ice cream eat? Why, huh?

I rub my head, and get the best messy hair ever. You know what? I still love that language no matter what. I spend two more hours studying then I feel my head buzzing and I’m dying for a break.

I text Abed (who’s on the same floor, in his room) and ask him to bring me a glass of water, please. And shockingly, he does!

“Are you ill?” I say taking the water glass and touching his forehead.

He jerks my hand away, “You are,” he sticks his tongue out at me. “Nice hairdo, by the way,” he laughs.

“Hey, don’t you dare make fun of my beautiful hair,” I say trying to fix it. “What do you want anyway?”

“Why would I want anything from you,” he says looking at the Korean sheets on my desk.