Amal, my love

Chapter 1

𝑨𝒎𝒂𝒍

Math will forever be my enemy. I groaned as I slumped on my desk, staring at my test score. It wasn't bad per se, but it was not the best i could have gotten with pulling an all-nighter.

"Amal, what did you get?" Zarah asked me. We've come a long way since the first class, which i thought she snubbed me. She was just nervous, it turns out. My social anxiety is nothing compared to hers.

"You just had to ask, didn't you?" I playfully glared at her. Not all that playfully, though. I know this was revenge for the last test we had, where I asked her that exact question.

"I got sixty-five per cent. With ALL the studyung i did last night." I palmed my chin.

"And the worst part is, I KNOW I could have scored higher. Alhamdulillah dai. It's still better than most." And that was the truth. A majority of the class was looking dejected.

"What about you?" I asked, flicking her nose. She had the cutest nose. A tiny button.

"I got eighty-five!" She jumped up on her seat but quickly sat back down as a few people's eyes were on us.

"My girlllll. Nice! Masha Allah. We have to hit up Shawarma Street then. My treat." It was a tradition of ours to eat out whenever one of us performs extremely well on a maths test.

"Ight. It's a deal. I want that extra large, though." Ah nooo.

"Fine."

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Shawarma Street, as the name implies, is a set of shops all smushed together, selling different varieties of snacks, and shawarma being the most popular. It was one of the best ideas our school had ever gotten. With its vibrant colours and blooming flowers, it quickly became a favourite spot among the students.

As always, the street was packed, usually around Tee's, the best shawarma spot, according to the majority. That wasn't where we were going, though.

I led the tall Zarah to our little heaven-on-earth, Papaya Peel. Weird, I know. But this little hole-in-the wall was our spot.

We discovered it three years ago during our first year. It was by what we liked to describe as fate. Zarah had been bailed on by her brother, Zayyad. They were to leave together to go back home, but he followed his friends instead, without telling her. That cemented my dislike of him.

We both waited for at least an hour until we got hungry. We stumbled upon Shawarma Street and walked a few. That was before the hunger. As luck would have it, Papaya Peel was just ahead of us, and the rest became history.

"Yo guys." I hollered to the two guys by the counter. Ahmad and Qasim have worked there for as long as we discovered the place.

"Wa alaikissalam." Qasim replied, rolling his eyes and staring pointedly at me.

I sheepishly smiled and said a quiet 'salam'. Trust Qasim to put me back on track. And although he doesn't look it; what with his headphones always around his neck and mufti, he was the malam of our friend group and always admonishes us for something wrong.

"Leave her be, guy. Zarah, Amal, welcome. Let me guess. This time, Amal's paying, right?" Ahmad guessed. He was always on point.

"Yup. The usual, please." We went to a slightly quiet corner of the place. The atmosphere was peaceful as always, and the greenery never failed to capture my fancy.

A few minutes later, Ahmad came out with our orders. We collected it and started to eat. Just then, Zarah's phone started to ring.

"Ughhh." She groaned.

I feel you, sister.

"Hello,assalamualaikum...yes...oh?...awww...okay." She ended the call. I was a bit curious but decided my hunger was greater.

"So...the shawarmas are on someone else today." Zarah said, not meeting my eyes. Ok, now the curiosity is greater than the hunger.

Shawarma aside, I faced her and silently urged her to continue.

"Ugh. The person's identity is not to be exposed. And I won't say a thing." She really won't. Deciding the argument that would ensue would not be worth it, I decided to let it go.

"Fine. Although thank the person on my behalf, please. Next time is on me,  though. No outside interference. "

She smiled and said something that sounded like,

'The person doesn't need your thanks at all'

Ohkayyy...

Whatever it was, i decided to let it go. Still, I felt a bit bad.

We finished and left, waving goodbye to the guy, and got on track to leave the school.

Ah, man. I have another maths test tomorrow.