Twice Upon Them

Chapter 2 | Kayla | Rehearsal Dinner and Alcatraz

Dedication: ALITeFati since she called this story an "AHMAZING WORK OF ART." She even added it to her reading list called "Ahmazing Works of Art." I can't thank you enoughhh.

Ennnnjoooyyy.

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"How can Muslims wear all of those clothes in the summer?" Kara wonders as my mom finishes curling her chestnut hair. She comfortably reclines in her chair as I hand my mom a bottle of hairspray. She presses on the nozzle so that the hairspray expels from the bottle and on to Kara's hair.

"How can people wear shorts in the winter?" I shoot back as I reluctantly apply mascara on my eyelashes. My mom, even though she's very conservative, urged me to put on a "decent amount of makeup so that I can look presentable," even though we're just going to my dad's dinner rehearsal. She even persuaded me to curl my own hair, which I in turn said that it doesn't make sense to get my hair done when I'm going to be wearing a hijab, to which she replied with, "You're only going to see family!" The banter went on for several minutes, until Keith announced that he was ready to go; meanwhile, my mom was freaking out because I still needed to get my makeup done and Kara needed her hair to be curled.

Typical day in the McGrady household.

"Because people who wear shorts in the winter usually take jogs, so it wouldn't make sense to wear sweatpants when they can wear shorts," Kara replies confidently.

"If people can go around half-naked, then we can go around fully clothed. And I don't see the problem with that." I take a few paces away from the mirror. I look at my reflection, kind of satisfied of my somewhat satisfactory makeup skills. I usually don't wear a ton of makeup since it's too much money, time, and, well, girly (at least for me). I don't want to spend fifteen dollars on lipstick when I can get a precious amount of food with that stuff.

Yes. Food over makeup any day.

I cap the mascara and set it down on the dresser. I glance at my mom, who's fixating loose strands of Kara's hair into place. "Mom, you do whatever you need to do; I'll fix her hair." She smiles at me gratefully. She steps away from Kara and goes to the bathroom inside this room to do whatever she needs to get done for herself.

I scrunch my nose upon approaching my sister. "Nothing to say back, huh?"

She shrugs lamely. I take a few bobby pins from my mom's dresser and stick them into my sister's hair so that she won't show up at the dinner looking like a beast. "Please don't get offended by this, but I'm very curious about how you and other Mozlems - Mus-lims, I mean, can wear that and not be afraid of what others think."

"Well, I admit that it's hard. But when wearing what I wear, I remember that I'm doing it for myself and God; no one else. I don't need anyone's approval to do what I want to please my Lord. That may not be much of an answer, but I'm still learning about the importance of this," I say, pointing to my hijab. "I'll answer you with a complete answer once I get to know more about it better, okay?" She slightly nods.

"Do you still believe in Jesus?" she inquires quietly.

"Of course I do, Kara. I have a feeling you've asked me these same questions once I got back home." After sweeping my gaze from her hair to her reflection, I notify her that her hair is okay now.

"Thanks for that. And since you're learning more about your religion, I'll ask you again and again since you'll have more knowledge each time. I'll ask you until you have your complete answer." I raise my eyebrow, slightly impressed that my sister has matured so much (despite her colorful room, blegh).

"Seems like my little sister grew up a lot during the time that I was gone," I remark as she gets off from the chair. She half-smiles, half-scowls at me before exiting the room. "Mom, we'll be downstairs!" I call to her. I get a muffled reply from the bathroom, so I leave Mom's bedroom and enter the corridor. I inch my way towards the door-length mirror that's hanging from a wall adjacent to my bedroom.