Unexpected Love [GXG]

Chapter 1:New school New Problem

POV: ENID

I woke up to the loud banging on my bedroom door. At first, I tried to ignore it-I'd been up all night worrying about my new school, and I desperately wanted more sleep. But the banging only got louder. With a groan, I dragged myself out of bed, opened the door without looking, and went straight back to lie down.

I had just closed my eyes when someone yanked my pillow away and smacked me with it.

"Hey! What was that for?!" I yelped, rubbing my sore head.

Standing over me was my best friend Fatima, looking very annoyed. She wore a gray abaya, her curls tucked neatly under her hijab.

Fatima had been my best-and only-friend since we moved to Miami. She was Arab, with pretty black curls, warm brown skin that glowed in the morning light, and eyes so dark they looked like melted chocolate. Right now, though, thanks to the sunlight streaming through my window, her irises looked more honey-brown. She was stunning in hijab, though she never believed me when I told her.

We had both been raised in Muslim, though in slightly different ways. Her parents, Egyptian and laid-back, only cared that she prayed five times a day. My family was stricter-my mom came from a Muslim home, but my dad hadn't converted until he married her, and he held onto a very rigid idea of how I should behave.

"For making me stand at your door for over three minutes-and for almost making us late on your first day," Fatima scolded.

I glanced at the clock. 6:35 a.m. I'd overslept, missing fajr. My dad and little sister must have prayed without me. Normally I was the first to wake, pray, cook, and help my sister get ready for school. Not today.

"You prayed without me?!" I gasped, bolting upright and rushing to the bathroom.

Fatima flopped onto my bed, rolling her eyes. "No, genius. Why do you think I'm here?"

"Then give me ten minutes," I said, slamming the door behind me.

"Make it five! You don't want to be late today!" she called, her voice tinged with excitement.

Even though she hadn't been awarded the scholarship like me-though it was originally meant for two people-she'd been nothing but supportive. Fatima was rich, so the scholarship hadn't been about money for her; she'd only applied so we could stay at the same school. But the board had changed their minds and chosen only me.

My family, on the other hand, wasn't rich. We used to be, before my dad made some choices that left us "average" at best. He told me flat-out that if I didn't win a scholarship, he wouldn't pay for my schooling-or my little sister's. Not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to.

After a quick shower and ablution, I slipped into my new uniform: a navy plaid skirt, white shirt, and blazer. I left the blazer off for now, throwing my abaya over everything so I could pray fajr first.

I actually liked the uniform-for three reasons:

1. My dad hated it.

2. My dad really hated it.

3. Did I mention my dad hated it?

He believed anything shorter than ankle-length was "nakedness," and it gave me a secret thrill to wear something he couldn't control. Since the scholarship meant he didn't have to pay a dime, he couldn't object.