HUSNA

Chapter22

If you look at what you have in life, you'll always have more. If you look at what you don't have in life, you'll never have enough. -Oprah Winfrey

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""I see now. Yaya Hameed is closer to you than me," Faiza said, crossing her arms dramatically, her voice tinged with mock betrayal. "Wallahi, I just can't believe this, Husna. Yaya Hameed knows about your past, and I'm just hearing it today? We've been friends for years, and you shared your secrets with someone you've only known for months?"

Husna rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Faiza, oh Allah! Don't start, please." She dropped her bag on the chair beside her and sighed. "You know how your cousin brother is. I didn't even have a choice that day; he noticed something was wrong and asked. You know how persistent he can be."

Faiza's eyes widened in exaggerated disbelief. "Persistent or not, I've been begging you to tell me first. Me! Your best friend! Not ya Hameed the newscaster," she huffed, pretending to sulk, though the corners of her lips were twitching with amusement.

They had just finished their first lecture of the semester, and the sun was already blazing over the university campus. Students milled around the corridors, chatting and laughing, while the faint sound of a lecturer's microphone echoed from another hall.

Husna chuckled softly. "Faiza, my little scouts, I'm sorry, wallahi. Next time, I'll tell you before the whole world, ehn? Please don't have my head. Hussy is sorry."

"Mmm, sweet talk won't save you today," Faiza teased, swinging her tote bag. "Next time, I should be the first to know before anyone else. Anyway, let's go to the mosque before zuhr time passes. So...she paused mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow mischievously, ...when is he coming back to Nigeria?"

Husna blinked. "Who?"

Faiza smirked. "Don't 'who' me. You know exactly who I'm talking about...Captain."

Husna stopped walking and gave her a confused look. "Faiza, what's that supposed to mean? Am I his cousin to know his flight schedule? How would I know when he's coming back?"

Faiza grinned and winked. "I don't know o, but the way you two talk these days... hmm, something is cooking."

"Oh my Allah!" She groaned, placing a hand on her forehead. "We're just friends, Faiza. Nothing more. Stop shipping me with your cousin."

"Hmm, if you say so," Faiza replied, giggling. "Let's just get to the mosque before you start denying love inside Allah's house."

After their prayers, the girls rushed to their next lecture. By the time they were done, the sun was scorching, and the air smelled of dust and roasted corn from the roadside vendors.

As they walked toward the parking lot, Faiza adjusted her hijab and asked, "So, are you still going to the market?"

Husna shook her head immediately. "Never. This sun is wicked today. Maybe tomorrow. There's no class, so I'll rest."

"Good idea," Faiza said, fishing her car keys from her bag. "I want to buy that novel we saw last week...The Girl Who Stood by the Window."

"Story of my life," Husna mumbled.

"Your life ke? Please abeg," Faiza laughed, linking arms with her. "Come on, Madam Ajebutter, let's go."

They slid into Faiza's car. The AC hummed to life as they sank into their seats.

"Faiza, take me home first, please. I'm tired, wallahi. I can't do this stress today," Husna muttered.

"Ah! Don't kill me alive. I won't take you..