Her Red Scarf [Muslim love story]

Chapter 2

            

          Fifteen minutes later, I'm jumping up the stairs with two containers of salad topped with chicken shawarma. Personally, it's not my favorite lunch with all the olives, and the occasional fatty chicken bites that pull a gag out of me. But Rafiq loves it, and I love to eat what he eats too.

I don't knock on the door. "Hey—"

The old rustic office is empty. I immediately reach for my phone and dial his number. Even if I tried to forget, I have his number memorized. It's muscle memory at this point. He's been the single person I call the most for years now.

He answers on the third ring. I don't wait. "Assalamu alaykum, I brought you lunch. Where'd you go?"

"I'm on that hill we've always loved to hike. Come."

He didn't even have to ask. I'll be there. "Can't stay long though. Class starts in less than two hours."

I hear him smiling. "I know that. I work there too, remember."

"How could I ever forget? Alright, assalamu alaykum."

The drive is about thirty minutes long. When I pull up to the parking lot, I can't see his car in our usual spot. But I figure he must have parked somewhere else.

I make my way to the top, to our favorite spot ever. It's hidden under some trees, and slightly on the other slope of the mountain. Because it's a very cool summer, all you can see is a mass of green trees, and it's beautiful subhanallah. I can't find him there, but I see the picnic blanket, which also serves as a prayer most days, laid down in our spot. I look around, confused.

What?

I'm reaching for my phone when someone screams in my ear "Bou!"

I jump so high I almost see stars and clutch my heart. "Rafiq! I always told you to stop that. What if you traumatize me?" When I was growing up, my mother always scolded my sister for her jump scares on the siblings, and always claimed that they can traumatize you. I do not know if that is possible, but what is adulthood if not repeating what you've always heard your parents say.

Not everything, though. Some things should have been left in the past a while ago.

His boyish smile brings a smile to my face, and I relax my shoulders. Although today has been a rollercoaster already, I allow myself to smile. Maybe everything will be okay; I can't remember the last time we've joked this way.

I spoke too soon.

We get settled on the carpet, and I bring out the containers. "So, what'd you get us? You didn't have to do that." he says.

I smile. We've had this exchange countless times before, and it never gets old. It's fun. And very corny. "I know, I wanted too. And chicken shawarma with salad. Your favorite." I say, opening it up.

"What about yourself?"

"Same thing."

"You don't like olives, and you barely like the chicken too."

"that's alright, you enjoy it."

His smile falls, and he looks back at the sea of green trees in front of us. I notice the change in mood, and once again, I find myself hopeless. This has happened countless times before. I say something, and he closes up. Or more like I share something with him, and he gives me the cold shoulder. It's as though he hates for us to share things together. But it couldn't bring me more joy to try out the things he loves all the time! I may not enjoy it as much, but I enjoy it with him. He is very important to me.