Sweet Nothings - GirlxGirl

Chapter Three

A/N: I've attached my favourite Pakistani song right now. So beautiful. Check out the translation, you will not regret the poetic words!

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AMIRA:

"Acha?  So, who's this friend, then?"

My mind scans quickly for a girl with a Pakistani name, one that sounds believable.

"Maira."

My dad's nose scrunches up, not convinced as he flicks through the TV channels without sparing me a look. He looks relatively relaxed today which means I can stop worrying so much. I have to judge my words on his mood.

"I've never heard of her," he tells me in an unimpressed tone.

Right, because I'm supposed to tell him every part of my life. I forgot about that.

I shift my weight on my feet, wringing my fingers together. "Mhmm. Right. Well, Maira is like one of the Paki girls in my school, abbu."

"Sunni?"

"Yeah."

"Acha. Fine. Go but I want you home before lunch tomorrow, no funny business. I know you got homework to do, no slacking off."

Relief slams into me. I can go to the party tonight and I can also stay over at Melissa's. I love spending the night at Mel's. I nod, gratitude clear in my features, as I push myself out of the living room and go upstairs to pack my overnight bag. As I do, I dial Melissa's number.

"'Ello, babe?"

I can't help the grin that takes over my features. "I'm coming to Jake's party!" I squeal in excitement, pushing back my clothes and finding my skimpy, blush pink dress that shows off all my curves perfectly. "I'll be at yours in fifteen, okay? I gotta get dressed at yours too. You got heels?"

"Yeah, sure. Glad you're coming."

She doesn't sound bothered, at all and there's an hard edge to her voice. I know better than to ask her though, because I'm aware it's because of me. I hate hurting Melissa. I hate dragging her through this but I need her. I'm so weak without her. I can't even begin to imagine my life without her. So, I force myself to remain oblivious.

"See you."

I hang up, exhaling sharply and throwing my phone on my bed.

I feel sick to my stomach with the lies. The lies I tell my family everyday—Melissa is just a friend, I don't have interest in getting married soon but you can find a boy for me, I am religious, I am a Muslim, I took my scarf off because I got bullied I'll put it back on later, promise, abbu—that's my life. Lying. Lying to my parents, lying to my siblings, lying to Melissa.

When I've composed myself and managed to push all self-loathing thoughts to one side of my mind, I grab my packed overnight bag and leave the house without a word.

The walk to Melissa's house is barely ten minutes and when she retrieves the door, she's smiling like everything is fine. Like there's nothing wrong. I'm not fine, though. I don't think any part of me is fine. When she holds me, hugging me tightly, the nagging, hateful thoughts are quietened. Just slightly.

I plaster on my fake award-winning smile.

"Ready?"

"Mhm. Yeah. Pass me that," Melissa takes the bag off me, throwing it into the house. "Go and get ready, I'll get the car."

"Sounds perfect."

I walk into her house, going to her bedroom and locking the door behind me. I look at my clothes. I'm wearing long sleeves and jeans, not one inch of my skin showing. I wouldn't be able to leave the house otherwise. I rip the clothes off, burying them in my overnight bag.