The Perfect Girl

47

"And they say don't look past her face, she's not worth it anyway,"

I didn't say all that much during the visit, the conversation continuing easily without me. Eventually, there was a pause. I sent Khalid a look.

I wanted him to bring up his art. He'd been meaning to talk to his parents about it for so long, and he hadn't yet.

He sighed, looked at his parents.

"Abu, Ami?"

"Jee?" (yes)

"I... I..."

Speak, Khalid.

"I've been painting lately," he said softly.

"Good for you, beta. It's a good hobby." His mother said.

"No--" he closed his eyes, "I want to start selling them."

Uncle Ishaaq's raised his eyebrows, "What about your job?"

"I want to start taking fewer hours, Abu. I want to try and pursue a career in art."

"How will you get anywhere with that?" Uncle Ishaaq asked, surprisingly calm, "You have no training."

"I'll get training. I've already found people who are interested in my work."

That was news to me.

"And you, Hiba?" Uncle Ishaaq said, putting me on the spot, "You're okay with this?"

"I am, Uncle Ishaaq," I said as firmly as I could, "I want Khalid to be happy, and I think this is good for him."

He nodded, got up, and walked out.

"A--" Khalid began.

"Leave him, Khalid," Aunty Lina said, "He'll be fine."

"Ami? Are you angry?"

I was surprised by how vulnerable Khalid was being. In some ways, it made me scared. I saw somebody who I cared about in a state that was easy to attack, and I wanted to protect him.

"No, beta," Aunty Lina smiled, "Do what makes you happy. Your father just needs some time to process."

Khalid nodded, looking relieved.

"Should we go?" he asked.

"If you want to."

Khalid got up, hugged his mother, who whispered, "Don't worry," in his ear, and then his sister. I did the same, and then we left.

"How do you feel?" I asked once we got in the car.

"I'll feel better once I find out what Abu thinks," he mumbled.

I nodded, put my hand over his. His fingers were cold and clammy, and, as he stroked his thumb across the back of my hand, I could feel the shake in his fingers.

"You did the right thing," I murmured, "You couldn't just pretend that this isn't important to you your whole life. It would be a waste of talent."

He nodded.

"And your father is a good man, he'll understand, inshallah."

Another nod.

"He only wants you to be happy."

One more nod.

I sighed, "Home?"

"No," he said, taking his hand away from mine and starting the car, "The pond."

"Okay."

***

The car ride was mostly silent.

When we arrived at the pond, Khalid got out before opening my door for me. A smile was beginning to creep onto his face.

The stars were bright tonight, I noticed. The moon was a crescent, the faintness of its light allowing for the stars to truly shine. There were hardly any clouds in the sky.

"Come on," he called, already walking away from me.

I jogged to catch up with him, grasping his hand. He looked at me in surprise, and I sent him a childish, wide grin. He smiled back, began to run, still holding my hand. I nearly stumbled, then adjusted and sped up with him.

He finally slowed down near a bench, sat down, and I, next to him.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulled me close to him. He was warm and so gentle, and I rested my head against his chest, breathing deeply. I reached up to intertwine my fingers with his, closing my eyes.

"Do you think he's mad at me?" Khalid asked, voice both scared and broken.

I shook my head, "He's just surprised, Khalid. It'll be fine, inshallah. Okay?"

"Okay, love," Khalid murmured.

He kissed the top of my head, "You're okay with this, right, love? Like, me getting into art?"

"Of course."

"Promise?"

"Khalid!" I exclaimed.

"Say it. Say 'I promise', sweetheart," he demanded.

"I promise, Khalid."

"Good."

I just smiled.

"Can I have a kiss?" he asked.

I turned my face upwards, pecked his lips. He smiled.

"I love you so much, you know that, right?" I said.

"I love you too, sweetheart. I really do."