Gamble

4. Made it to school.

I braced myself for what is to come. It is my first day to school after the loss. 22 days later to be exact. I never imagined a life without my parents. It was like a line I never dared to cross. I read all those stories of people with a petty assurance none of that would happen to me. All I knew was that we would be together in all times to come and that I could never exist without them.

But now I know that people come and go, but life goes on no matter how dear they were. It doesn't just end with them, even though I wanted it to so badly.

'Sabr and Shukr' (Patience and thankfulness) my mother used to say. 'You hold onto those and you will prosper, not only in this life but in the hereafter.' I chanted it as a mantra every time I was full of grief.

Now as I held the car's door handle a ripple went through me. My heart climbed to my throat. Nonetheless I opened the door and was greeted by Zehra's ear to ear smile. Zehra was my anchor all this time. Whenever I felt like drowning she pulled me out from the depths of my own haunting thoughts. She was my best friend and the only person who saw me as a teenager with a life instead of a poor little orphan.

Even though she is 4 months older than me, due to her bubbly personality and bright and exotic choices in contrast to my more shy and reserved nature, people often mistook her for my younger sister. With her olive skin and almond eyes, she was pretty with her Arabic facial features, thanks to her mother. She was beautiful inside and out.

"Ready?" she asked, excited.

"What? For school or for the fact that you are driving?" I teased

"As it is your first day of school I'm trying my best not to kill you, so if you'd be considerate enough to co-operate with me."

I laughed and gave her a mock salute "Aye,"

I was lucky enough not to encounter any overly sympathetic students who didn't even knew my name till a couple of weeks ago but somehow made it their duty to remind me that my how unlucky I am that parents were no longer alive, as I made my way to Mrs. Johnson's English class.

I took a seat in the last row near Zehra just as Naeem Mehmood entered and passed a smile at Zehra. She practically melted into a puddle on the spot before smiling back.

Eventhough Naeem and Zehra are engaged and to be married in mere six months from now, but Zehra is a completely different person infront of him. A smile brighter and eyes more softer. I sighed, young love. I'll ask them few years later, when they will probably be on each others nerves.

Mrs. Johnson enters and drops the bundle of papers on the desk with a thud. She is the kind of teacher who makes notes for everything. Literally everything. Without a word she walks to the board and scribbles the topic. She turns and her eyes roam around the room until they meet mine.

"Yusur dear, you're back!" she exclaims.

Every head turns and stares at me. I look down, flustered.

"We missed you." She declares and claps her hands together to get the class's attention and continues with her usual lecture that I mostly spent dozing off. Thanks to the corner seat in the last row.

Several classes and numerous condolences later I reach the door that leads to the class which is the only reason I bear those excruciating classes all day long. Mathematics is my ray of light in the sea of histories and English-es. I enter the class only to find it packed with students some of them who weren't even taking this class the last time I was here.

My gaze searched for an empty seat and landed on the only one. Near a guy. But not any other guy it was Nooh Suleiman. The guy who has problem communicating with anyone with IQ less than 140. My one and only mathematics rival with whom I've never communicated except the death glares and lopsided smiles whenever we get an answer wrong or correct.

He looks at me, then round the class, and then to the seat near him and closes his eyes for a brief moment while visible exhaling.

Feeling's mutual mister.

His eyes narrow into slits as he glares at me.

I accidently said it out loud.

As I made my way to the seat, he moves a little further and drags his books with him so they is considerable space between us.

I sat on the given seat and started solving the questions Mr. Clark had given prior my arrival. After solving 3 questions and getting correct answers for all three of them in one go, I got struck on question 4. Mr. Clark was busy helping other students and I was still at a loss after solving it for the 4th time. My inflated ego was all that stopped me from turning to Nooh and asking for help as he was already on question 5. I threw my hands in the air in defeat and close the notebook with enough force that the pages I tore flew and fell under the chair in front of us.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the class as well as the school day. I leave the class before anyone tries to strike up a conversation.

Zehra found me by the lockers and drilled me with current events in which I voiced my opinion too once in a while as we made our way to the parking lot.

I heard my name being called in an ever so manly voice and turn around to find Noah walking towards us with a visible crumpled paper straightened in his hand as he uses the other to rake a hand through his hair when he saw us checking him out. With a well built body and a chiseled jaw, this Jordanian beauty looked like a cut out from a magazine. His hair parted to the side in a stylish manner that suited his small green eyes covered in thick lashes that could make any girl envious, and his lips......

That's when my Haraam alarm went off.

Astaghfir Ullah. What has gotten into me?

I lowered my gaze and nudged Zehra to do the same, only my elbow met air. I turned around to find Zehra standing a couple of steps away, playing with her cell phone, leaving me all alone with the dazzling lad.

Well as alone as you can be in a hallway filled with ruthless teenagers trying to leave.

"You got the digits wrong" he thrusts the paper, that now downed on me was mine, the one that had fell on the ground. "You copied the digits wrong from the question. Its 9.142 instead of 9.613 that was actually of question 3" he explained pointing at the question when he saw my confused face. 'The method is absolutely correct.'

I took the paper. "Err..okay" I said. "Thanks by the way" I announced as he turned to leave and was rewarded with what was a ghost of a smile.

I was awed. That's because he never smiles, actually. I have always encountered him with a perpetual frown on his handsome face.

I turned around only to find out an overly joyful, jumping Zehra.

"He likes you." She beamed.

"Wai...What? He just talked to me Zahra, and..." I hold up the crumpled paper" It was mathematics by the way." But still against my will my traitorous lips turned up at the corners.

"So what? Nooh Suleiman TALKED to you. He never talks to women except Ms. Kimberly maybe by she's 55 and out of the question." She pressed the button on the automatic car lock and the lights of the car blinked.

"So how was Naeem" I asked in a successful attempt to steer off the conversation from me and Noah.

"Oh yeah I forgot to tell you" she started "When we were in the English class he smiled at me and sat 2 seats in front. And when Mrs. Johnsons asked me a question I didn't know the answer to he stood up and....."

"Right I was in the class too I remember now" I said in an attempt to stop her from talking now.

"Yep but you were sleeping' she said as a matter of fact.

"I wasn't"

She glared at me.

"Maybe. But I was sleep listening."

She rolled her eyes at me 'Stop interrupting Yusur.'

And just like that I spent the entire15 minutes to the drive home listening how exactly Naeem heroically saves Zehra from the evil teacher.