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

Handling Mr. Handsome

Knowledge doesn't only come from school. It doesn't just come from books, but comes more from life and experience. I was learning a few things about the people around me, especially my sister.

I stay home with Deena for the next couple of days while Abba and Ummi finalize what is going to happen with Aman. They have decided not to press charges, but they want Aman at another school, far away from Deena. He will be going to a school in his own town, effective immediately.

Deena seems okay, but I stay close to her anyway, knowing she is not one to openly display emotion. I've apologized repeatedly about not being there for her when she needed me, and I want to prove to her that I can be reliable. As we sit on the couch watching Maury, my phone beeps for the umpteenth time.

"You know, you can get that." Deena mutters.

"It's not important." I shrug it off, feeling sheepish.

"Is that the same thing you said when it was me calling you?" she huffs.

"Oh my God, Deena! I said I was sorry! I didn't even know you were calling."

"Sure," comes the sarcastic tone at the other end of the couch. I kick her in the forehead. "Dude!" she yelps. "What did you do that for?"

"To clear your head. There is more to this you're not telling me. Spill." I sit up and face her.

"How the hell do you do that? You're like a psychic."

"The fact that I didn't pick up alone wouldn't make you this angry. Did something else happen?"

"Nothing else happened. It's just, I've never felt so ashamed. And... alone. It would have really made me feel better to know you could have helped."

"I'm here now," I say as she nods. "And I really am sorry. I'll be more attentive from now on."

"Thank you." Deena rests her head on my shoulder as we watch the woman on the screen exclaim that the lie detector test was faulty. My phone beeps again.

"For Allah's sake, just pick up!" Deena says, throwing her hands up in exasperation. What a drama queen. I peek at the screen and sigh aloud.

"It's Hamzah. Again." I announce.

"Ooh la la. What does he want?"

"It's not what you think, believe me."

"So then?"

"He wants to know when we're going to have a sit-down. He thinks I'm avoiding him about it."

"Oh my goodness! And you say it's not what I think?! You love him!" Deena exclaims with glee.

"No, he's going to cancel the engagement."

"You're engaged? No one even bothered to tell me this? And to him? Wait, who am I engaged to?"

"Anyway," I say, shifting her attention back to me. "He's with Tessa and wants to keep it that way."

"Is that what you want too?"

"Of course! Tessa is my best friend. I want her to be happy. I just don't want to disappoint Abba in the process."

"Right. And you are sure you don't have any feelings for Mr. Handsome?"

"Ew, please don't call him that." I shudder. "And the answer is no. No feelings at all."

"Well then, I believe it is my responsibility to help you and helpless Mr. Handsome." I roll my eyes at her before she continues. "So, this is what we're going to do-"

"Nope!" I interrupt. "I'm not taking your help with this one. This is a personal issue, and the two of us will handle it."

"Fair enough." Deena goes back to watching tv while I open the messages from Hamzah.

"Urgent. Family meeting tonight."
"Are you ready?"
"Talk to me, Yaz."
"I hope this goes well."
"Any day now."
"You there?"
"Respond!"

Sheesh. This guy wasn't letting up any time soon. I type back,"Sorry! What family meeting?"

Hamzah replies almost immediately. "Coming over to your house tonight." Another message follows, "It's happening TONIGHT."

Our sit-down is happening tonight. We would be in a room alone, and talk about our conditions to getting married. Alone in a situation very similar to the way we first met, with him ending up in my room. And at the end of all that, he would deny my hand in marriage.

Wait a second. Did I want him to agree to this? As I think about the fact that he will say no to both our parents when they ask us whether or not we accept the marriage, I worry a bit. I don't know if it is because this is my first engagement, or because my parents will be disappointed, or because- Allah forgive me- I actually like Hamzah?

No, that can't be it. I wanted Hamzah and Tessa to be a couple too much. But Hamzah was handsome, and Abba seemed to think he was right for me. I trust Abba's judgement, and I start to believe marrying Hamzah couldn't hurt- except it would. It would hurt Tessa, who had explicitly asked me if I had any feelings for Hamzah before getting involved with him in the first place.

Suddenly, I was stuck, not wanting to disappoint Abba and also not wanting to hurt Tessa. "Damn you, Mr. Handsome." I mutter, putting my phone on silent mode.

"I heard that. So you do find him attractive."

"Yes, but only because I have eyes. And apparently, I don't have time to chat about this because the sit-down is happening tonight."

"Ya Allah, things just got juicy!" Deena shrieks. "Okay, you get ready. Ummi will be expecting you to look extra fancy."

I hesitate, looking towards my phone which has just received another text.

"Go already!" Deena says as she shoos me out of the room. "I'll handle Mr. Handsome."

"I sure hope you can." I call back as I head upstairs to my arsenal of makeup, jewelry, and dresses.

It was finally time.