Void - Finding Islam (EDITING)

Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

On Tuesday I didn't see Rupert anywhere in the cafe so I couldn't return his ipod and earphones. When I had searched all the corridors and the kitchen and even sneaked a look into the men's bathroom, I stuffed the device in my apron pocket and went back to serve orders. It would not have been worrisome - if Rupert had not maintained his disappearance over the rest of the week as well.

It was slightly weird at work without him. Seeing as I've apparently became a tea addict in the last couple of weeks, I now make my own tea in the morning after I get over the disappointment of seeing the Rupert-free staff room. Sometimes I'd take out the iPod and listen to the songs I've listened to a million times before. And sometimes Mr.Chawviski would come in, stare at Rupert's still-neglected apron and cap and his face would go red in fury. On those occasions , for precaution, I usually hide behind the door when I hear the "Where is that O'Reily boy, huh?" from outside the staff room approaching. Flaming, with no one to yell at, he would storm out of the room and resign to muttering to himself angrily.

***
I sat at a library table, trying to decide if a child was going to be red-haired or black-haired by using the parent's genetics as I sat on my window-side table which I had not chosen solely because Adam Hamza was sitting on the one to it's left. And I also was not, at all, wondering about the seemingly endless essay he was writing.

My eyes snapped back to my own Biology textbook as he raised his head. I felt his gaze so intense on my cheek that I covered it and pretended to cross something out and shook my head at myself and humphed, for good measure. A moment later, he stood up and gathered his things in his school bag and he passed around his table to walk beside mine, his fingers brushing my jacket, muttering a soft "sorry" as he did so.

I returned to my homework to hide my smile.

As I lowered my head to write my conclusion on the question in front of me, something else distracted me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a stack of paper placed on the chair beside the one Adam was sitting on. I took a look at the library exit he just walked through, frowned, then stood up, walked to his table and reached out for the papers.
On the first page was one large word, written in the familiar slanting, messy handwriting I've never been able to read properly.
Void.

The papers were bound together by two paper clips on the top. Intrigued, I turn the first page. It was full of codes - or so it seemed to me when it came to Adam's handwriting. Words were all over the page, the rows of writing had no space in between and the margins were full of notes. It went on and on to the rest of the pages.

I went back to my own table, sat back in my chair and held the first page to the light. And I started to read, slowly, deciphering the words.

'A soft knock sounded on her window. She turned to look at it. Another knock came and she glimpsed a pebble flying in the darkness outside. Standing up, she made her way to the window and looked down. There, in the tangles of the tall trees her family had planted to cover their house from view - was a boy. He was evidently fishing for another pebble from his pocket. However, when he turned and saw her looking at him, he grinned, attempted to move closer and almost fell off the tree branch he was perched upon.
Cecilia stood staring at him in awe; she did not know or wanted to know how he had gotten through the gate or the many enchantments cast upon it. Walking back to her desk, she found a paper and a pen and started writing.

'How did you get here?'

She flashed her sign to him through the window. He read it then looked around, as if looking for a paper and pen nearby. Rolling her eyes, Cecilia took a notebook and a pen and threw them to the boy. He grinned again.

'I followed you.'

She bit her lip. She knew she should have just flown back yesterday but still she was stupid enough to think she was alone and had walked all the way home. What her family would say if they knew. He must have walked behind her. Now that she thought of it, she had heard a rustle in the leaves at some point.

'I mean through the gate?'

She wrote and eyed him nervously.
His grin faded. A puzzled look replaced and he looked at her enquiringly. She bit her lip again, knowing and dreading what he was asking, but pointed at her question, urging him to answer.

'Climbing trees.'

How couldn't she think of that. Of course, he could have gotten all the way here through the neighbouring trees and easily into her very own front yard.

However, It was pity he had come all the way in the middle of the night too. For any second now, when he would attempt to get any closer, she would-'

"May I know why you've all of a sudden became a bookworm?"
I jumped, dropping the papers. Tas stood in front of me, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

"I was doing my Bio homework!" I protested.

"You were not! What's that you're reading?"

My lie came too quickly and confidently that even I was surprised.
"My notes on genetics." I said.

She stared suspiciously at the stack of papers I was clutching which, thankfully, she could not see inside. Then, apparently deciding she had no choice but to believe me, she sighed and pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I want you to come with me to the mall today. I need to buy some high heels and a dress for the party."

"What party?" And a second after I asked, I guessed the answer.

"My cousin's birthday party I told you about." She said. "By the way, Hana is coming too. Jen, if you'd just-"

"Tas, I really can't. I have to work that day and-" I sighed then smiled at her. "You go and have fun. Parties are not really my thing."

Too much people.

"Maybe if you can take a day off-" she began.

I was momentarily reminded of Omar when he was telling my father to come to his school's parent-teacher meeting.

'Can't you take a day off?'

But I can't take a day off. And in my head, I began listing all the reasons why I can't come:
I don't anyone there. I'm not social enough. I'm awkward. If I go, I'd start over thinking about all those things and I'll get depressed. And I'm done having breakdowns for this week. I wish my mind could stop talking, maybe then I'd be able to go. But it won't. My thoughts are going to eat me alive.

A lump rises to my throat and my hands form fists in my lap under the table. Stupid. Weak. I'm weak. Blinking back tears vigorously, I busy myself by packing my bag and address my textbooks.

"Look, I'll come with you to the mall but I won't come to the party. I just can't. I really want you to have fun and be happy and not worry about me. I'm fine. Parties are just not my thing." I fixed my eyes somewhere over her head. "Honestly. Don't worry about me. I'm fine." I said again.

I'm fine. I'm fine. I wish I was.