Basma's POV.
The car beeped as I pressed the button to lock it and I adjusted the stack of books in my right hand and ran inside the Mosque. I was late for my class. I bet all the little kids were anxiously waiting, wondering where their teacher was.
I ran through the hall, hiking up my skirt in order to not trip when I ran into someone. My books fell all over the place.
"I am so sorry!" I said to the person not even looking up as I grabbed the books from the floor. As I reached for the last book, my hand collided with the other person's. I looked up to see a pair of familiar looking pair of green eyes.
It was a guy, But where did I know him from?
"Shukran," I said looking down.
"Uh..your welcome," he replied. He had a rich voice, I couldn't help but notice.
"Well, bye!" I took the last book and hurried down the hall to my classroom.
When I got there, the kids were surprisingly sitting down, not making any trouble.
"Salaam class. Sorry I'm late." I greeted them.
"It's okay Miss Sheikh," a little boy named Yusuf replied.
I gave him a smile, and went on with lesson for the day.
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" Salaam Mama! I'm home!" I yelled as soon as I walked through the door.
"Wa alaaykum a salaam I'm in the kitchen baby!" She replied.
I took of my shoes and raced to the kitchen smelling the wonderful scents.
"Ma, what's all this?" I asked.
She was surrounded by piles of food. She looked really small with plates surrounding her with her apron hoisted on her hips. Mama was a short woman much like myself.
"We're having guests. Didn't Omar tell you?" She asked.
"Nope." I answered trying to grab a forkful of pasta, but she quickly slapped my hand away.
"But Mama I'm hungry," I pouted.
She just laughed her beautiful, caramel face scrunching up. "Tell you what, you go get changed and you can help me. Then i'll let you have some food."
I gave her a big smile. "Deal."
I rushed up the stairs changing into a simpler outfit and came back down to help.
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By the time Mama and I had finished and I tasted some food, the guest were due in twenty minutes.
Mama and I went out separate ways to get freshened up. I changed into a black abaya and a navy headscarf.
As I pinned down my hijab, I heard the doorbell ring.
"I'll get it!" I shouted.
Defending the stairs, I walked the short length to the door and opened it.
I froze, seeing the green eyed boy from earlier.
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A Dozen Roses & A Plastic Ring
SpiritualBasma Sheikh teaches Islam to kids at the masjid everyday. She lives with her mother and older (and annoying) brother Omar. She is just going about normal life as always when she bumps into a guy who looks very familiar. She later finds out his name...
