Bumpy Ride

Late Again!

"Get up, idiot!" Someone was shaking me violently as I'm awoken, a slap hitting my cheek.

"Oww! Mama? What was that for?" Why did she have to wake me up so early? I had a long night studying after Isha prayers and here she was slapping me awake.

I rub my eyes before looking up at her angry face, though she was still beautiful but if I had said that, I'd probably get another slap on the face.

"It's nearly eleven o'clock, the after noon you idiot!" She has her hands on her hips as she glares at me.

"Shit!" My eyes widen in surprise as I scramble onto my feet and run my way to the bathroom, clutching my huge, white towel that lays at the end of my bed.

"Oi!" I turn around to see her taking her flip flop off and I instantly swivel around and run to the bathroom. As soon as I shut the door and lock it, I hear a slight thud on the other side of the door.

Phew! That was too close.

Outside of the bathroom, I can hear mama complaining about me and I feel a hint of guilt for not waking up on time.

"Yallah! This child! Why does she not listen to me when I tell her to go to sleep?!" I hear her make her way downstairs whilst mumbling and I sigh before moving away from the door and stepping into the shower.

I was going to be late for school. Again.

*****

"Miss Aira Ahmad. You are late, again. What is your excuse today young lady?" Making my way to my desk at the back of the classroom, panting from running up the flight of stairs, I respond.

"Sorry, Professor Dariah. I was studying and forgot to set my alarm on again. My mom woke me up. She thought I was already gone for school."

Sighing, she makes her way towards me and puts her hands on the desk.

"I've told you, you need to relax for a while, even if it's a small amount of time. You're doing well in every class but what's the point in that if you're not looking after yourself? Please, do not be late for another class or I will have to give a detention next time." Straightening up, she walks back to the front, her long skirt trailing behind her.

Clasping her hands together, the lesson begins as usual. Leaning on my palm, I stare at the clock.

Today is going to be a long day.

*****

What feels like hours later, the bell finally rings, giving us permission to leave for break. Packing my stuff up quickly and shoving all the books and sheets into my bag, I dash for the door, the first one as usual. Professor Dariah calls out to me, a mere reminder of the consequences of my lateness.

"And please do not be late Miss Ahmad!"
"I won't, professor!" Throwing it over my shoulder, I run out of the classroom, down the corridor, flying down the endless staircase before landing, reaching my destination at the first floor. 

The playground.

So you're probably wondering who I am and why I'm always late, huh? Well, my name's Aira Ahmad and I live in the UAE, more specifically Dubai, a country entirely built on and by business. English is the language of business, that's what I've learnt.

Anyways, you're probably thinking I'm the usual rich Arabian girl who goes to a private girl's school and doesn't have to worry about money because she's already earning, right?

Well, it's not true... not entirely true but partially true. I'm half Arabian and half Pakistani, my mother is from Dubai and my dad is from Pakistan. I'm 18 and I go to an all girls private school, the usual expensive one. I hate the uniform, a white blouse with puffy sleeves and a long, navy blue skirt that reaches the ground. I have to wear these annoying pointy shoes which make me look more like a witch than a student and I, obviously, wear a matching navy blue headscarf, a hijab is what we call it.

I have the usual Arabian features:
Perfectly smooth, clear skin, mine is tan. Light brown almond eyes, slightly plump lips that are light pink, thick high arched eyebrows and a thin nose. My favourite feature are my eyelashes, they're naturally long and dark.

I'm quite tall, five foot and seven inches and I'm also not too thin or too fat- I have a small waist and my thighs aren't too big either.

Anyways, I'm now outside and waiting for my best friend. Some people are against our friendship, and by some people I'm hinting at my Pakistani father. Yep. He's always expecting me to have friends who 'will set a good example' for me though she's a great girl.

"AIRA!" Someone screams my name and I instantly turn around and see her. My best friend. Anya Chopra. She's just the most popular, fashionable, beautiful, friendliest, most caring, lovely, athletic, hardworking, comforting, independent girl I have ever known in my entire life.

Guessing by the name, you're probably assuming she's Indian and you're not wrong. But she's beautiful. She's around my height, perhaps an inch or two taller and she's got golden bronze skin with big, round emerald eyes that look like jewels. Her waterline is naturally dark but she wears something to darken them even more, making her look more like a model than she already does, I think she calls it kajal. Her face is thin and she has a perfect jawline and her nose is not as long but still has a small bump. Her lips are slightly thin but match her face perfectly and she has a beauty spot right above her lip on the left side of her face. Her hair is a chocolate brown colour and very thick as well as very long and she always braids it with a flowery hair pony at the end, making her look stunning as usual. She's obviously much thinner than I am but somehow still looks much better than I do with the uniform. She doesn't wear a hijab because she's a Hindu.

As you can guess, that's why my father disapproves of our friendship. She's Indian whilst I'm half Pakistani. Our fathers don't get along. But I don't care, I still hang out with her. She's my only best friend, the only friend I've had since I was a child who never hurt me and stood up for me even when we had arguments.

She waves at me and runs up to me before doing the same handshake we've done since we were kids.

Once we've done the handshake, she sighs and I know something is the matter.

"Annie, you okay? What's going on?" Annie was the nickname I gave her. Anyways, she shakes her head and gives a small smile.

"It's nothing. I'm fine. Anyways, what've you been up to?" She wraps her arm around mine and drags me to our favourite spot on the small hill with a huge tree that gives us some shade in the unbearable heat.

I still can't shrug off the strange feeling of her hiding something from me. But once we sit down in the shade, I interrogate her, it's the only way to find out what she's hiding.