A Muslimah's Story {EDITING}

Chapter 2

Iqra's eyes

...

    I am suspicious for the next few days. But I forget every single word of it when it's Friday and I go over to Asma's house after school. My best friend really does help me throughout every single stage of my life, and I love to have her as my close friend. She's always there for me, sunny or rainy, happy or sad.

   We flop on her bed as she unpins her hijab and her long black hair flowed.

   I unpinned mine and my light brown hair with slight blond streaks flowed past my shoulders, as well.

"I am so envious of your hair and eyes." Asma jokes. "You look white without your hijab, due to your eyes and hair."

" I'm not, haha. Inherited it from my grandma." I remind her, touching it.

   We watch Bethany Mota diys and do each other's makeup, along with nonstop eating and talking. We read our prayers, too.

After two hours of relaxation and goofing off, plus a million selfies, Aunt Alia comes into Asma's room.

"Asalam, my beauties. Mashallah, you both look stunning. Now, I've called your mom and they are coming over for dinner." She notificates us with a warm smile that matches Asma's.

"Wasalam. Oh, Auntie, we will help you set it up." I tell her. She is a kind woman, and I've known her since forever. She's like mom's sister, practically.

    "It's alright, thank you. Really, its okay." She disagrees for our own comfort, leaning on the doorframe.

"It's okay mom, tell us when Aunt Saliha and Uncle Khalid are coming, we want to help." Asma informs her mother, and auntie caves in.

"Oh alright, come down In ten." Auntie says. We nod and she smiles warmly before leaving us.

...

    After dinner, the both families drink tea and talk for about half an hour before we leave. Baba seems urgent to leave, today, desperate even. So I glance at my best friend in worry, making eye contact with her throughout the whole time our parents talk. When it's time to leave, she whispers in my ear to text her, and I promise her I will. And now I'm back home, waiting for whatever has to be unfolded.

"Honey, we need to talk to you." Dad tells me, as I reluctantly walk to the sofa with a stiff body. I know where this goes. It's nowhere good, I'm telling you. Nowhere close to good.

"Erm, okay." I mutter. Sahib, mom and Dad are rounded up on sofas, eyes on me. Not the best place you want to be, especially on a Friday night.

"Beta, come at ease. Don't worry. We are not going to eat you." Mom tries to lighten the mood. I nod, and sit down.

"So, we need to talk to you in some matters, if you would please." Sahib says. I just keep on stiffly nodding.

"See, you are getting older, you just turned 20 long ago, in August. I'm very proud of you, beta, we all are. You are growing before my very eyes. I want you to be at ease now, with only 2 months away from you getting your degree and graduating. I want you in your house with your husband. You are getting of age," Dad speeches. I internally groan. I hate this.

"Daddy," I begin, as he holds a finger up. His expression is serious. I start sweating. I don't have something against being married, but I just really think I'm too young.

"It's okay, we've all been there." He shushes me, softly. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I don't want to grow up so fast.

"We just want you at ease." Mom adds.