Meant To Be? (Completed)

Chapter 3

Abdullah P.O.V

The next day, I was sitting in the library, studying my notes for anatomy when Omar burst into the library. He snuck around a few bookshelves and sat down in front of me. His hair was messy, his glasses lopsided, and one of the collar folds of his polo were unfolded, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"No. Do you have your anatomy notebook?" Omar asked me.

"Yes, why?"

"I forgot mine. Can I use yours?"

"Sure," I handed it to him.

"You will not believe what happened last night. So, the roommate decided to hold a party in the dorm. Roommate was refusing my requests to hold it off until later. So, I left the room and went to see if Muhammad was cool with me studying there. Yeah, well, his roommate was not cool with it. I was studying in the library until the stupid librarian kicked me out. So I studied in a cookie shop that opened at night, then I realized that my embryology notebook was at home. I had to run back to the dorm and grab it, but I was locked out. Got back to the cafe, and it was closed. Roommate would not let me in until five in the morning. I am so sick of this routine every night. I tried to request a roommate change, but they refused. I even got beat half to death by roommate. I threw a shoe at him when he started acting smart with me and he beat me. I still have a big bruise next to my eye. Satisfied with that explanation?"

"Wow. That sounds crappy," was all I could say.

"Just crappy? It's horrible, Abdullah! I hate roommate!"

"You're not going to call him by his name?" I asked.

"Never. He's like Voldemort. You don't name him. He doesn't deserve a real name either. He's satan's little friend," Omar snapped as he scanned the notes, his finger tracing under the words.

"This is like Chinese," he muttered.

"It's just muscles," I responded.

"Bull-"

"Don't say bad words. Don't you know that those who speak words like that may go to hell?"

"Mr. Haram police, I'm going to say what I want," Omar narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry, I was just trying to help," I looked away.

"It's not you. I'm just pissed off at that son of a jackal ruining everything. He hid the key I needed to get into the room. He acts like some freaking body guard. Honestly, he's a bastard," Omar gripped the edge of the notebook in frustration.

"Just calm down, Omar. Think these things in your head," I tried my best to make him feel better.

"How can I? You tell me, Abdullah? When everything I try never works? I'm gonna fail this stupid course and most likely any other course I take this year," Omar snapped.

"Allah will help you. Go pray and ask for sabr."

"Alright, what time does anatomy start?"

"You've got half an hour. Plenty of time to pray at least two rakat," I glanced up at the clock.

"Thanks," Omar stood up, handed my notebook back, and walked off towards the MSA prayer room.

I flipped the notebook to my notes and started reading, but my mind was elsewhere. I thought about that Aisha girl. She was beautiful, I had to admit.

Wait. Why was I thinking about that? I had more important things to worry about, right? That's when she walked in with her friend, Fatima. I noticed what she was wearing. A light blue hijab, white dress, blue jean jacket. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and her natural beauty was so perfect. I completely forgot about lowering my gaze. It almost didn't matter to me. After a few seconds, I looked down at my notes, tempted to look up again.