Behind Her Hijab | ✓

21| Rest of the Rafiqs

"Mama, Baba, you know I haven't won yet?" I ask, as a grab a plate of rice and placing it on the table. I then glance back at the refrigerator, where Iman stands crouched on the floor, admiring the small, round cupcakes Baba bought to celebrate.

Mama blushes, "Yes, but even if you do lose, this is still a big achievement of its own! And it deserves a celebration!"

I grin, and continue to place the plates on the table, until the doorbell rings.

"Can I open it?" Iman asks, finally closing the fridge. I roll my eyes, and glance at Baba for an answer. He nods, and Iman walks over to the door and swings it open.

"As-Salam Alaikum!" a high pitched voice greets.

"Wa Alaikum As-Salam," the four of us greet in return.

A woman slightly taller than my own mother, walks in the door. Unlike Mama's basic black hijab though, the woman wears a warm beige hijab, to match her beige-and blue abaya, a long dress-like or cloak-like piece of clothing worn by Muslim women.

Behind her, a young girl who couldn't be any older than nine walked in, followed by an older boy, who is obviously in his late teens or early twenties, and then an older man, who I guess was the girl and boys's father. Then lastly, another boy walked in, who had the same square-shaped face as his mother and sister, instead of the longer face his brother and father had.

I quickly set down the last plate and greet each of the guests, first the parents, then the little girl, the the older boy, and then the last child, Mohammed.

He smiles at me, then follows the rest of his family towards the living room. Mama tells them to take a seat, and the adults quickly start to laugh and talk together.

Iman and I stand awkwardly for a bit, but then eventually the little girl introduces herself as Munirah and they trot off together laughing about a YouTube channel I've never heard of.

So I stand there, debating with myself whether I should go talk to Mohammed or not, wondering why it's so hard even though we already somewhat know each other.

I decide to go to my room and see what Iman and Munirah are doing, but before I do, I glance back at Mohammed, who's talking with his brother.

I sigh, then walk into my room, and sit down on my bed.

"Wanna play Hangman?" Munirah asks.

"Sure," I reply as sit down on the floor.
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"So, you're running for Sophomore student council Treasurer, eh?" Mohammed's older brother asked.

"Uh, yes." I replied, before stabbing a cucumber with my plastic fork.

"Congrats then," he replied, taking a spoonful of the rice Mama had cooked. "I ran for treasurer as well, for the Freshman council though, I lost to Cassie Myers. To be fair, I think she did a better job than I would've done."

"Myers?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "Do you know her youngest sister? I think it's Melissa... no Morgana..."

"Morgan," I mumbled grimly.

Mohammed, pretty much out of nowhere, joined in, "Hey, Haider, try the kababs."

His brother, Haider, quickly forgot about the conversation we were having and asked Baba for a some kabab, since the plate was on the complete other side of the table.

I fixed my eyes on Mohammed, and just as I was about to mouth the words, he gave me a small nod. I smiled, then began to awkwardly stare down at my plate, before deciding I wasn't in the mood for any more rice, and so I picked up a piece of chicken instead.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Iman bending over to whisper something in Mama's ear. Mama nodded, and Iman gave a quick grin towards Munirah before walking towards the kitchen.

I took a couple bites out of the piece of chicken I was holding, then leaned back into my chair, and took a good look at the entire table.

Mama was in a busy conversation to Um Haider, or Haider's mother. Baba also appeared to be talking to Abu Haider, or Haider's father, about U.S citizenship. Haider himself of course, was sitting right next to me, and Mohammed sat next to him, . Which left only Munirah, who sat on the other side of me, yet seemed quite far away, and Iman, who at that very moment was carrying a tray of a dozen cupcakes over to the table, all on her own.

I practically leapt out of my seat when I noticed her, making sure I got there before any of them even got close to falling over. Alhamdulillah, I was able to reach Iman before any cupcakes were in danger. I held on to half of the tray, and she held on to the other half, and we carried it together.

I let her hold it while Mama and I made room for the tray, and she carefully placed on the table when we were ready.

"Vanilla cupcakes with blue buttercream frosting and mild sprinkles," Iman stated after she had set the tray down.

Everyone grinned happily, and Mohammed's parents quickly began to insist that I take the first cupcake.

I grabbed the one closest to me, and waited until everyone else had one, then took a small bite out of it. My mouth was suddenly filled the soft and sweet buttercream frosting, and happiness piled up inside my body.

"Did you bake these?" Um Haider asked Mama in Arabic.

Mama shook her head, "No, they are from the store."

We continued eating the cupcakes, and we were all done, the men got up and left the table while Mama, me, and even Iman started to carry the plates back to the kitchen. But towards the end, Um Haider and Baba each carried a few to help out.

Both Haider and his father were sitting in the living room, which was technically one giant room as there was no wall that separated them. But I noticed Mohammed wasn't with them, but standing alone right in between the dining room and living room.

This was seriously one of my favorite chapters to write! I hope you guys all enjoyed reading it as well! And feel free to comment and thoughts you have or would like to discuss. Also, thank you @alishba2424 for providing the name for Haider!