WHEN STARS ALIGN

~CHAPTER FIVE~

Zara's POV.

I was getting ready to go to work and Fatoo was here laying on my bed, talking my ears off. It has been exactly a week since the incident at the restaurant.

After the incident, we all went to Fatoo's place. Me and the rest of the girls I mean. We basically calmed ourselves down, talked, comforted each other and Fatoo more. And they spoke to me about how I do things without thinking. That I should not let my anger take over my thinking and other things along the lines of that.

I listened to them but would I sit and watch people walk all over me without giving a piece of my mind? We'll see about that.

"I haven't been to Aunty Aliya's place in a long while and today I got the perfect opportunity to visit her. You're taking Umma and my mother sent me to give something to her so I'll be in your back seat as you drive us there." Fatoo said and shoved another piece of fried chicken into her mouth.

I honestly don't know where that came from. Whether it was from our fridge or she came with it, I don't know.

And I never mentioned this, but Umma na and Madam Raliya are really good friends. Obviously they met through me and now they have become the best of friends.

"You're being a pain in the ass, Fatoo." I lamented.

"It;s your ass and it's huge, so I don't mind."

The gasp that I gasped and the laugh that Fatoo laughed. She sounds like two hyena's combined.

When I tell you all of my friends are unhinged, believe me. They say whatever they want to say with, whenever they want to say it with no care whatsoever to what people might think or say.

"Yauwa!" Fatoo yells and jumps off the bed. That made me abruptly turn to look at her and give her the 'are you okay' look.

"Why must you be loud?" I ask, genuinely.

"I'm picking your outfit today! I just remember how you always wear atamfa when you're supposed to be wearing corporate clothes."

I peeked at her through my mirror, squinting at her. "What's wrong with atamfa?" I mumbled. "It's comfortable."

"Comfortable, yes. Corporate, no." She walked over and pulled me away from the mirror. "Sit down. We've got work to do."

I sighed, knowing there was no escaping Fatoo once she set her mind to something. I could escape it if I wanted to but I'll let her have her fun. I sat down by the edge of the bed and watched her. She was standing in front of it with her hands on her hips, surveying my collection of brightly patterned atamfa dresses.

"Seriously, Zara," she said, shaking her head. "Do you even own anything else?"

"Not really," I admitted, hoping she'd give up and let me wear my usual attire.

Fatoo started pulling out hangers, shoving atamfa dresses aside with a determined look. "There has to be something in here," she muttered.

And then, she stopped. Her eyes widened, and she let out a triumphant gasp. "Aha! I knew it!"

I peered over her shoulder and saw her holding up a navy blue two-piece suit. It looked vaguely familiar, like something I'd bought on a whim and promptly forgotten about. She paired it with a crisp white shirt and a white veil.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said, staring at the outfit. "I can't wear that."

"Oh, yes you can," Fatoo insisted. "And you will. Now, go try it on. No, not try it on, go wear it. If you don't, I'll gladly help you."