Take off your Hijab (Rewriting)

She might break once again ✅

In the tapestry of life, each new thread weaves a story yet to be told.

"Oh my God, Mom, I will be fine!" Amal whines, her cheeks burning as she shifts from foot to foot, desperately wishing her mother would take a hint. Safia just never knows when to stop... like right now.

"How sure are you? How can I be so sure that you'll be okay when you're miles away from home?" Safia's voice rises, her anxiety filling the cozy dorm room. "You're going to be alone for the first time in your life! You'll be doing everything on your own!"

"Mom, don't tell me... I didn't want to leave either," Amal snaps, though the hint of humor in her tone makes her mother chuckle, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Are you sure? You'll be okay on your own, right? Won't you need your night light? Oh my God, I think I left it back at home! Should I go and get it? I know you can't leave without it!" Safia's frantic energy ricochets off the beige walls, which are meant to be soothing but only serve to heighten Amal's embarrassment.

Standing beside her mother, Amal's stepdad, attempts to diffuse the situation. "Safia, I think she'll manage," he says, his tone calm and reassuring. "She's not a child anymore. She's ready for this."

"Right. But still..." Safia's worry lingers in the air, thick and palpable.

Amal, surrounded by unpacked bags and clothes strewn about, tries to regain control. "Mom! You are embarrassing me," she says through clenched teeth, praying her mother will just wrap it up already.

"No, I know how scared you are of t—"

"Mother..." Amal cuts her off, glancing at her new roommate, who stands awkwardly by her own bed, unsure how to navigate the unfolding chaos. Safia's mouth forms an "O" as she realizes her daughter isn't alone.

"Hi there! Are you my daughter's roommate?" Safia asks, her maternal enthusiasm beaming like a spotlight.

"Good morning, ma'am. Yeah, I think so," Jamie replies with a polite smile, her brown hair falling in soft waves, looking more like a TV star than someone about to share a room with Amal.

"Great! At least now you have a roommate," Amal's mom cheers, causing Amal to facepalm. Of course, she has a roommate; it's a dorm room, not a sleepover!

"What's your name?" Safia asks, her curiosity unyielding.

"Jamie... Jamie Styles," the girl says, her smile genuine and welcoming.

"Nice to meet you, Jamie! This is my daughter, Amal Adnan. Please take care of her for me; she's still a child—my baby!" Safia's words spill out, leaving Amal groaning in utter embarrassment.

"Mom, I'm 19!" Amal protests, crossing her arms in a futile attempt to shield herself from the onslaught of maternal protectiveness.

"Still a child," Safia insists, narrowing her eyes playfully at her daughter.

"Sure, I will," Jamie responds, though Amal feels a flicker of annoyance. Who does this girl think she is? It's like she's been handed a manual on how to deal with overbearing moms.

"Urgh, Mom!" Amal groans, her patience wearing thin as she wonders how she can survive the next four years.

"Okay, okay, I'm bu—" Amal's mom starts, but she gets cut off mid-sentence.

"Don't worry, Mrs..." Jamie trails off, looking for Safia's last name, clearly unsure how to wrap this up.

"Just call me Mom!" Safia says cheerfully, and Amal's mouth drops open in disbelief. Does her mom know how weird that sounds? Jamie's eyes widen a bit, but she smiles at the kind gesture, clearly unsure how to handle this level of enthusiasm.

"Mom, my roommate and I will learn to survive in this college together," Jamie assures Safia, who beams with pride, enveloping Jamie in an unexpected hug. Jamie looks taken aback but smiles nonetheless, waving goodbye as Safia exits the room.

As soon as the door slams shut, Jamie sits on her bed, which is on the opposite side of the cozy but cramped dorm room, staring at Amal, who is now surveying her with a mix of caution and annoyance. The room itself is a colorful mishmash of posters and mismatched furniture, decorated with Jamie's knick-knacks that look like they came from a thrift store explosion.

"So, your name is Amal—that's, um, Arabic, right?" Jamie ventures, her voice laced with awkward curiosity as if she's trying to read a riddle.

Amal stares at her, trying to decipher what game she's playing. It feels like déjà vu, except this girl isn't Zach. "Hm," she replies, opting for the diplomatic route because opening up sounds like way too much work right now.

The mistrust hangs heavy in the air, a wall formed from past experiences. She has no desire to open up, especially in this unfamiliar environment. Her trust issues haven't faded; if anything, they've made a grand return, like a bad sitcom that just won't go off the air.

Jamie shifts in her seat, the awkward silence stretching between them like a bad Wi-Fi connection. Amal takes in the room's décor—the cozy bedding that looks suspiciously clean, the vibrant colors of Jamie's scattered knick-knacks, and the faint scent of lavender wafting from her side, which seems way too domestic for a dorm room.

"I'm in my first year," Jamie replies, her smile a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Great, so is my little Amal!" Safia exclaims, her voice practically singing with joy.

"Great, so we're both in this together," Jamie says, trying to sound supportive but feeling the weight of her own uncertainty. The words hang in the air, a fragile thread connecting them in this unfamiliar space. Amal glances at Jamie, her eyes scanning the room, searching for a hint of genuine camaraderie beneath the surface of awkwardness.

Amal can't help but wonder if they might even end up becoming close friends someday, but that thought feels like a distant fantasy. So For now, she'll keep her distance, observe from the sidelines, and see if this girl is really the angel she's currently making herself out to be. After all, Amal didn't come to college to make friends; she came to get an education that didn't involve any more dramatics. She's had her fill of that back home, where loyalty often felt like a tightrope walk.

As she sinks into her new bed, the mattress firm and slightly uncomfortable beneath her, Amal glances around the room. She takes in the scattered clothes, the posters of unknown bands plastered on the walls, and Jamie's neatly arranged desk, which seems to mock her disarray. With a deep breath, she pulls the blanket up to her chin, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety flutter in her stomach.

This is a new beginning, she reminds herself. She can carve out her own space here, define her own rules. Maybe she'll learn to let her guard down someday, but for now, she's content to keep her heart safe and observe quietly from a distance.

And poor Jamie will have to deal with what Zach went through with Amal's trust issues again... but surely Amal did break her walls once, so who knows? She might break them once again—maybe not now, but sometime in the future. Who knows, they might even rent an apartment together someday...

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And That's it for today! I truly hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it.

Thank you so much for your continued support, and I can't wait to see you in the next chapter!

All the love,Aysha ❤️