Hijabi Style: The Surprisingly Average Life Of A Teenage Muslim Girl

Disconnection

Human relationships are difficult, whether they are beginning or ending. In these hard times, it's important to have support. I had my friends and family, who also had me. Hamzah had his father, and had newly introduced me to a deeply meaningful part of his life.

At Jum'ah prayer this afternoon, I prayed for Farida. I prayed that she knew how much her son loved her, and I prayed that Allah would keep her close to him.

Ummi had allowed me to stay home today after prayer, fortunately. She had to go out for an errand, leaving me home alone to think. My time doesn't last as long as I would have liked, because just as soon as I lay down in my bed, the doorbell rings.

I'm not expecting anyone, so it catches me a little off guard. I head downstairs and peek though the window. Tessa is standing outside, looking very frustrated. For a second, I want to go back to my room and pretend that I'm not home. But after a thought, I realize Tessa hasn't done anything wrong to me; all she wants is to look out for me. I shouldn't be avoiding her.

"It took you long enough!" Tessa huffs as I open the door. She comes into the foyer and takes off her coat.

"Tessa, I'm really, really, really sorry." I tell her earnestly.

"It's just a stupid door."

"Not about the door, about avoiding you like that. I just really didn't want to talk about it with anyone. I still kind of don't."

"I honestly don't blame you. I get that you need your space." Tessa pats my shoulder.

"So you're not mad?"

"No! How could I be? The guy crossed the line! Ken went way too far."

I nod, and then remember something. "So, why did you seem so upset before I came to the door?" I ask.

"Oh, that? I'm just a little confused."

"About what?" I ask, motioning her over to the couch. She sits beside me and takes a breath.

"So, remember when I asked you what Hamzah looked like before I actually met him?"

"Yeah?" I answer, a bit warily.

"Well, when I saw him, I realized he looked like 'Masha Allah'!" she sighs in awe.

"Masha Allah isn't a thing," I manage to say despite my laughter. "You can't look like it. You can use the term to express awe or admiration for something Allah has created. That seems to be what you're doing with Hamzah." I giggle.

"I know what I want to be doing with Hamzah."

"Ew, Tessa! We're Muslim!" I screech.

Tessa smirks in response. Just as quickly, her smile fades. "I think I may like him." she says sadly.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes! I've never crushed on anyone. Not once!" Tessa counters. "But with him, I notice the almond shape of his eyes, and their color- they seem almost black. And his tan skin over toned muscle. And his voice, soft, and deep. He's so... amazing!"

"Is that really a crush, though? Those are all physical things. It could just be an attraction."

"That's what I thought, too. But then, we went to home room together, and talked. He's blunt, sarcastic, and worldly. But somehow, at the same time, he is caring, sweet, and deep. Not to mention hot."

"You're really head over heels for him! And he's perfect for you! I knew this day would come!" I shriek with glee.

She is silent for a minute. "No, Yaz. He's not."

"Why not? You basically drooled all over him just now."

"I can't like him, because he likes you!" Tessa insists.

"Oh, Tessa, trust me. He doesn't like me any more than he would a friend."

"You just don't see it."

"I doubt there is anything to see. He doesn't have any romantic feelings for me. Besides, you both have so much more in common."

"I don't think so, Yasmeen." her voice falters a bit.

"I'll tell you what. Why don't you come over on Sunday? He's coming to dinner with his family."

"Won't that be awkward?"

"Not at all. After dinner, the adults are going to chat in the parlor while we go to the basement. Deena and I can play with his younger sister while you get a chance to talk to him."

"It's so adorable that he has a little sister." she whispers admirably.

"You think everything about him is adorable."

"That I do." After thinking a moment more, Tessa finally agrees to come to dinner.

I see her out safely after we hang out for a while longer. Upon returning to my room, I think back to yesterday.

Hamzah had taken me to a very sacred place for him. We'd held hands, but that was all. Surely he didn't mean it in a romantic way. Surely, he just thought of me as I thought of him- as a friend.

Surely he wasn't about to break my best friend's heart.