Eighteen-year-old Hayat Amanullah has it all: a loving family, a carefree life, and a future at the Ivy League school of her dreams. But her perfect life shatters when her oldest brother suddenly dies in a car accident. The tight-knit Amanullah fami...
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Truffle (flower): Surprise
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A loud honk startles me as I'm wearing my shoes. "Coming!" I yell out the open door to Abeer.
Once my shoes are tied, I head into the living room to kiss my mom goodbye. She's out of her room today, and even went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.
"Mama, are you sure you'll be fine?" I ask as I kiss her temple.
She waves me off and nods. "Yes, don't worry about me."
"I'll be back soon, okay? I just need to give something back to someone from school."
It doesn't feel good to unnecessarily lie about something arbitrary, but I can't risk the follow up questions I'll surely receive when I tell the truth. That I was sleepwalking through my neighborhood streets, and a guy I consider an older brother prevented me from collapsing in a ditch somewhere, after which he gave me his shoes and blanket.
Yeah, I'll pass on the awkward questions.
I give my mom another kiss, grab the tote bag containing Mikaal's belongings, and rush out the door. My feet are feeling much better today, and the blisters are morphing into faded scabs.
I had woken up this morning and experienced a dilemma. I wasn't sure how to express my gratitude to Mikaal. Hey, thanks for showing up at the right time and making sure I didn't get run over didn't seem appropriate. Neither did I'm sorry I was wearing my donut pajamas when you luckily stumbled upon me and woke me from sleepwalking barefoot in our neighborhood.
Initially I thought maybe I could just walk over to his house and hand him his belongings. But that seemed oddly anticlimactic and ungrateful. Plus, his mom would be super weirded out, understandably, that I'm bringing in her son's blanket and shoes. The amount of questions that would raise, I can't anticipate.
Then I thought maybe I could get a thank you card or something. But that seemed wildly inappropriate given the circumstances under which he had stumbled upon me.
After much contemplation (at the end of which I was just frustrated above anything else), I decided to make him a plate of food. Rice, chicken, salad, the works. That seemed like the safest thing to do considering families generally give each other food often. That, and I still had to keep my boundaries intact.
I was frustrated beyond measure by how much thought I had to put into the simplest situation. I never had to contemplate something so deeply when it came to Mikaal. The only times we ever interacted were when he hung out with my brothers or when I visited Arafat in the hospital. So I felt depleted of energy after having to think so much about an interaction that was once second nature.
