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

Such A Mess

What does it mean to be on the outside looking in? Is it like wanting what someone else has? Or is it just wanting to be better? Is it even less rare that it is like wanting to preserve a beautiful thing, just so that others can witness that same beauty?

Along with these thoughts, Abba's words cloud my head as I gaze sadly at the beautiful couple before me.

Tessa is snuggled up into Hamzah's chest, looking happier than ever with her radiant skin and bright smile. Hamzah has his arm placed carefully around her shoulders in an intimate, yet charmingly polite, manner.

The two of them have been spending a lot of time together- so much time that Kennedy and I have gotten used to sitting on the same side of the lunch table, letting Tessa and Hamzah claim the other side.

Ken notices my staring and pokes my arm. "What's up?" he whispers.

I shake my head as if to say nothing is wrong. I can't tell him about my possibly arranged marriage with Hamzah. I especially can't tell him without confronting Hamzah about it first. How can he be sitting there all cuddled up with my best friend when a disaster is just days away from occurring?

Suddenly, I can't take it anymore. I tap Hamzah on the shoulder, interrupting the whispering he had been doing into Tessa's ear. They both look at me with slight annoyance. Instead of acknowledging their rude looks, I simply face Hamzah and say, "We need to talk." He rises and we walk out of the cafeteria together.

"So, what's wrong this time?" he asks sarcastically.

"Excuse you, what do you mean this time?" I respond defensively.

"Every time you're upset your voice gets all huffy."

"I am not upset! I just want to talk!"

"Really? Because it definitely seems like you're upset."

I glare angrily at him in silence.

"Okay, fine! What do you want to talk about?" he finally asks.

"Are you aware of our parents' arrangement?"

"What are you talking about?"

Ya Allah, he has no idea. We have to fix this, I think to myself. This arrangement can't happen! "Okay, listen to me very carefully," I say. "Our fathers have come to an agreement about our future."

"What kind of agreement? Like-" Hamzah stops mid-sentence and realizes what I mean. "No, no, no. This isn't happening." he says, almost in a tone of repugnance.

"Gee, thanks." I mutter.

"You know I don't mean you. It's just, I really like Tessa, you know? I can't imagine being with anyone else."

"I do know. I also know that you told her you were going to tell your father about your relationship. If you did that, why is he trying to set you up with me?"

"I may or may not have told him that bit of information," he answers almost inaudibly.

"Are you kidding me?! Dude, what the hell!"

"I'm sorry! I just know he wouldn't understand, especially since Tessa's not Muslim."

"You're going to break her heart! How could you?" I drop my head into my hands in frustration. "This is such a mess!" I groan.

"I am not going to break anything! The whole reason I didn't tell my father is so that I could keep seeing her."

"And what a great job you did of that. Now what do we do?"

"I think I may have an idea," he starts. "Before the arrangement is final, we get to have a sit-down where we both give our consent. If we don't, they can't force us to get married."

"Maybe that works for you, but I can't do that to my parents. I can't say no to something that would make them happy, even if it doesn't make me happy."

"So you'll just marry anyone, then?"

"I trust that they know what's best for me. Clearly, I don't have the best of judgments." I say, remembering my feelings for Major. "Still, I definitely don't want to marry you, so this cannot happen."

"You're in luck, because it won't matter. Even if only one of us says no, they can't force us. That way, I can still be with Tessa and you can be with..." he pauses. "Who is it that you like again?"

"No one. And I'd like to keep it that way."

"Right." Hamzah laughs, obviously not believing what I'd said.

"It's true." I retort before walking away.

At the lockers, I find Kennedy waiting for me. He looks perplexed and very on edge. I rush over to him.

"So, I have news," he says turning his phone over in his hands as if he'd just received a call. "It's about Deena."

"What about Deena?" I start to get worried.

"We have to hurry! Come on!" Ken yanks my arm and pulls me down the hall.

"Stop!" I yell at him, pulling my arm back. "What the hell is going on?"

"Deena just called. She said she's been calling you, but you haven't picked up."

I pull out my phone and glance at the screen. Sure enough, there are seven missed calls listed under an unknown number, which I can only assume are from Deena. "Well, what did she say?"

"She didn't say much. She gave me an address, though."

Address? She was supposed to be at school! Where could she have gone? Lost in my thoughts, I don't realize Ken is calling my name. I look up at him.

"We have to go right now. She's in really big trouble."

I nod and we sprint down the hallways and out of the doors.