Stated Love

Chapter 18

It's the day of my last exam, and I couldn't be more nervous. I've already completed my past exams with hope that I'll pass, Inshallah. Today was my history exam and although I'm cool with history, I still have major anxiety of taking it. The exam starts at nine so I decide to sleep in until eight, get dressed to go to school and if I still have time, take the last chunk of the hour to review my notes and concepts. Although I hate reading on the bus (it makes my stomach ache), I pull my history study packet out and skim through it. "Damn, you're taking this really seriously," I look to the side. A smelly guy in a raggedy grey jacket, greasy brown hair, and who's probably high is leaning onto my seat. I smile weakly and scoot into my seat a little deeper. 

"Hey!" Addie calls out from across the hall. I see Sam with her and I wave. After putting my things in my locker, I walk over to them. "You girls ready to take your exams? What do you guys have by the way? I've got history." I groan.                                                                                                                  "Drawing. I'm not too scared to be honest. You've just got to pick a person to draw, it's so easy."    "Health for me, it's a written thing, super easy. Mr.Stronghill basically gave us all the answers during the pre-test yesterday." Both of their exams are super easy, and I got stuck with history?! Sucks to be me. "You guys are lucky, man," They nod in agreement. I turn to Addie. "Who are you thinking of drawing for your exam?" Addie smiles excitedly and pulls her phone out. It's her favourite actress. "This picture of Zendaya, isn't it cute?" Ever since it came out, Addie's been obsessed with Euphoria. I, for one, have never seen it. It's not really my choice of TV show. I don't have HBO anyway. "It is, but are you even aloud to have your phone out to use during the exam?" Sam asks. "No. You print a piece of paper out as a reference. I'm using the grid method. You make the squares by measuring it in inches and then basically reference it from that." The bell rings and it's time to go our separate ways.               

Miss Palmer and all the other teachers are supposed to give you an hour and a half to complete your exams, but they'll let you go a little over sometimes. Miss Palmer is nice and told us right before the exam that it's ok to stay a little overtime to review your answers, and she actually encourages it. I took that opportunity and was the second last person to finish and leave. "Thanks Miss Palmer. It's been a pretty great semester with you." I hand her my page and she smiles while taking it. "I couldn't have worded it better Alaa. I'm sure you did great! It was an honour having you as a student, hope to see you next year." She adjusts her glasses then moves on to her paper work. I smile and walk out of the classroom. It has been a pretty great school year; within school, not outside of it. I brush the thought away, though. I've been trying not to think about all the drama I've been through this school year. Sam and Addie texted me, saying that they finished their exams and left home with their parents a while back. I sit on a chair outside of the office and pull my phone out to call Baba. "Salam, how are you?"                                "Alhamdullillah, did my little historian finish her exam?!" He asks in excitement. "Yeah, Alhamdullillah...It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Can you pick me up, please?" I ask. "Yeah sure, I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Traffic's a little heavy right now." I tell him to hurry and when we're off the phone, I scroll through Instagram. "Hey, how'd it go?" I look up and see Abdallah take a seat across from me. He's the only thing that makes sense to me right now. My feelings for him, that is. I smile. "Wallahi, not bad. How about you?" I set my phone down and turn my full attention to him. As much as I try to avoid him (because I love him too much), I need a cheat day once in a while. "God, Mr.Kitchen is really getting on my nerves." I gasp. "What, he's amazing! I thought you liked him." He chuckles dismissively. "He's annoying, man! With all the similes, and hyperboles, and stupid Romeo and Juliet crap? Puh-lease." I laugh. "Come on, he's not that bad. If I'm being honest, he was my favourite teacher." Abdallah throws his head back as he snickers. "Alaa, that's because you're a kiss up."                                                                                                "Am not," I gasp. "Um, yes you are," He widens his eyes and nods his head. I laugh and push him lightly on the shoulder. "Ok, I'm kidding, I'm only kidding." I blush and turn away from him. I get a text from Baba, saying he's here. "Oh, that's my dad. I should go." Abdallah gets up with me. "Wait, can I go say hi?" I shake my head. "No, that's weird, he'll probably think we're dating or something," I catch myself. Honestly, no, he wouldn't. I guess I'm just scared he'll tease me about it afterwards. "You know what, my dad trusts me, I'm sure it will be fine. Ok, here's what will happen: I'll go outside then you catch up and say Salam and whatever, ok?" He nods. "Whatever you say, Boss." I roll my eyes and grab my bag. Before I leave, I say goodbye to the secretary. She was always so sweet to me. I go up to the car and take a seat in the passenger seat. "Oh, hi Abdallah, did you need something?" I say, pretending that I don't know why he's coming up to us. "Salam, just wanted to say hi to Amu  (uncle in Arabic) and have a great summer," He turns to my dad, who extends his hand to Abdu. "Salam, kayf al haal  ('hello, how is it going' in Arabic)?"                                                                                                                                                              "Alhamdullillah. Fursa saeeda ya amu ('all praises due to Allah. It was nice meeting you, uncle' in Arabic)." Baba smiles. I know that he approves of him and likes him already. "Baba, Abdallah is my classmate and we met a couple of times at Khalto Rasha's when she has get togethers with the Sudani Khaltos  (aunties in Arabic)." He smiles at me and him. "Yes, I think I've seen you around, actually. Well, it was nice meeting you, young man." Abdallah smiles at Baba and I blush. So. Damn. Hard. "The feelings mutual, Amu," He shakes Baba's hand again then turns to me. "Bye Alaa. Have a great summer vacation." I shake his hand. "Bye Abdallah." When Baba isn't looking, I mouth 'Go away now, before he says anything'. He smiles one more time before leaving. When he's gone, Baba turns to me and smirks, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. I roll my eyes and put my head back. I know what he's implying. "No, Baba, stop, just drive away already." He turns the wheel and steers away from the parking lot. "You up for ice cream? Let's chat a bit and celebrate you completing your exam and ending your school year with a bang!" I stare out my window and nod. "Yeah, sure." I replay all that had happened last weekend. The day after I went out for boba with Sahar, I stayed in my room all day. And after I came back from my exam every day after that, I just lounged in my room. For five days straight. Every now and then, I'd hear my parents talking about what was wrong with me, why I was upset and sometimes they'd even ask me what happened. But the thing was, it wasn't just one thing; it was Jidu's passing, and Salman, and exams, and New Jersey, and missing my old life. If we didn't move, none of this would have happened in the first place; I would have been able to spend more time with my late grandpa, and I would have never even knew Salman, I would have a great support system and Muna and Duaa to study for exams with, I would have been in New Jersey, I would have been home. Home, that's where I wanted to be. Not my racist town in Jersey where I don't fit in. And although I've found things I like here, the negatives out way the positives. There is absolutely no comparison to be made by the two. "Ok, we're here."

"Hi, can I get one scoop of tiger tail and," I eye the options through the glass. "Which is better, pistachio or coffee cake or Nutella?" Baba holds his hands up in surrender. "I don't know, your choice." I go with Nutella. Baba's always super basic and bland with his choice in ice cream flavours. "Can I please get a scoop of strawberry banana and a scoop of mango ice cream?" If there isn't a chocolate component, I deem your choice of ice cream bland. We get our cones once they're ready and take a seat out on the patio. "So, what's up, Aloya? Talk to me. Mama and I have been very worried." I take a lick of ice cream and sigh. "Nothing's wrong, Baba."                     "Something is wrong and I'd like you to tell me. Maybe I could help you figure things out, but you just have to tell me what the problem is first." I take another lick and avoid his concerned gaze. Things just aren't simple like that. "Baba, I can't talk to you about this type of stuff."                "Try me." He smirks. I take a deep breath again and weigh my words. 

What can I tell him? What should I tell him?                                                                                       

"Look, if you don't want to tell me, that's ok. But I would be more than willing to hear."                      "Baba I'm just sick and tired of New Jersey," I exhale. "I want to go home. I hate it here." There. I said it. I spilled the beans. He nods his head and bites into his cone. "That's not all, is it?"                 "Baba, it all revolves around being here! Every single bad thing that's on my mind or that's bothering me is either in or because of New Jersey!" I explain. Baba just nods and finishes off the rest of his cone. "Look, Alaa, I got laid off. There's no business here in Jersey," Baba sighs deeply and wipes his mouth with a paper towel. "Mama and I have been discussing it and maybe moving back to New York is a better option." I practically gasp. I mean, moving back has been what I've wanted for all these months. But I don't have the reaction I'd expect myself to have. I'm holding on to my memories here. After spending nine, almost ten months of living here, I guess I've gotten used to it. I want to leave, but I know that I'll miss the world we built here. The world I have here.

Sahar, my new best friend. Khalto Rasha, my favourite neighbour. Salman giving me mixed signs and getting all over my nerves. Mr.Kitchen's English class. Evenings at Bubbles and walks around downtown. Praying in the prayer room at school and quickly making wudhu in the bathrooms, afraid of anyone seeing me and asking if I was taking a shower in the sink.The Sudanese community here and game nights at Khalto Rasha's with all of the great friends I made. Sahar's arguments and venting about Salman. Slipping my beats on and blasting J Cole on public transport. Abdallah, my love that will wait for me forever; because I'm worth it. 

All of those memories and encounters lead up to this, I guess. Even though my town in New Jersey will always be a smelly, busy, racist town, it's got to count for something, right? It made me who I am and because of all these experiences, I've learned to accept myself for who I am and I've accepted my reality.