Under the Olive Tree

7. Sab'a

That afternoon, while Amani was leaving Reema's home to visit her grandmother, she was approached by a girl she knew but had never spoken to before. So, when she heard her name and turned to find Yasmeen following after her, Amani's expression failed to hide her bewilderment. Why was Yasmeen calling out to her as if they knew each other?

"I've been looking for you," Yasmeen paused to catch her breath after hurrying over. She straightened the tip of her hijab to make sure the wind hadn't blown it off its center.

Amani watched her. "Have you?"

She nodded. "I heard about your arrival and have been meaning to introduce myself, but I've just been so busy. It's a good thing I caught you today though. My name's Yasmeen," she extended her hand for a friendly handshake.

Amani took it. "I'm Amani."

"Amani?" Yasmeen repeated. "Oh, that's a cool name. We don't really have names like that here. Ours are more traditional, I guess."

Okay? Amani smiled kindly.

"Were you going somewhere?"

"Just walking."

Yasmeen smiled. "Okay, perfect. I'll walk with you then." They both nodded and began back down the street the way Amani had initially been walking as a duo. She tried to pretend like she didn't notice the occasional wide-eyed stares their company was receiving but it grew difficult once the open mouths came in droves. Yasmeen spoke before Amani could glare back.

"Do you miss your home?"

Amani pondered on the question, realizing that she hadn't thought about how much she missed the house she'd been dragged out of. She had missed it before, missed having her own car, missed going out with her friends, and missed one specific person most of all. Now that Yasmeen had asked her, she realized her yearning had mellowed. "A little bit," she shrugged in response.

"It must be so nice over there. When will you be going back?"

More like when would her father allow her back. Amani shrugged at that question, too. "I'm not sure yet."

Yasmeen's voice hummed in curiosity. "Don't you get to decide?"

"I do," she lied. There was no use in telling a random girl about how her father had deported back to their bomb-ridden home country because she'd been caught sneaking a boy into their house. "I'm just enjoying my time here. When I want to go back, I will."

"Are you here for marriage?" When Amani looked at her, Yasmeen decided to search for the justification of her questioning. "I mean, did you father send you here because you are of that age? To marry someone from your home country?"

Amani shook her head.

Yasmeen continued. "Have you thought about it?"

Maybe she had in the few hours after she'd received her first and, hopefully, last marriage proposal. Amani wondered whether word had traveled about her rejection or if both families had kept it to themselves. Either way, there was no use in revealing it here. She didn't know Yasmeen well enough to trust her. "Not really, no."

"That's interesting."

Amani didn't respond.

Yasmeen continued. "Honestly, there are not very many good guys in this town so it's good you are not here for that. Technically, the best one here is Muhsin."

Suddenly, Amani was interested in the conversation.

"But he and I are engaged, alhamdullilah."

Amani paused, not in her footsteps but in her mental processing. She turned to the girl who was lifting her head happily toward the sky with a beaming grin. "You're engaged already?"