That Muslim Girl (ON HOLD)

02

Chapter II      First Day Back

Inaaya's POV

Last night after Ziam's whole drama scene, I went to bed but couldn't actually sleep. I just kept thinking about what he said. I quit trying to sleep and went on to pray Fajer and recited the Quran until 7 AM. So, In the morning, I awoke – earlier than my twin brother, which was typical.

I was met with Andrea.

She kept picking something that isn't black for me to wear to school, "No way, no way, no way," I uttered as my mother Andrea kept throwing clothes in my direction.

"This will go perfect with the pink hijab," She picks the outfit in her hands as she says that, I look at the outfit with disgust. "Ya Allah, the label is still on this," She says as I still don't know why I picked and bought this many hijabs when I only wear black or grey.

"What the hell!" I hear my mother Sevil yell, "Walking from here to the school will take at least half an hour, and you still haven't picked an outfit yet," She seemed to be concerned.

"Well, I didn't pick an outfit, I told you yesterday to let me prepare it, and you said to listen to my father's looooong lecture instead, so I ended up not picking anything up," I continue bickering.

"This," My mother Andrea announce holding the grey blouse in her hand. "At least, it isn't black," She defeatedly stated.

"Perfect," Sevil says as she tosses the stuff in my direction and says, "Finish quickly, don't be late for school," She advised.

I got ready real quick, washing my face to get rid of the redness in my eyes. I just wanted to get the first day over with. I hurried, slipping on a black tank top with some dark blue skinny jeans and the grey blouse. I wore minimum makeup, just some strawberry flavoured lip gloss and one swipe of black eyeliner. I wore my usual black hijab, and I walked into my twin brother's room. I picked up a soccer ball, I found on the floor and threw it at his face.

He jolted awake, and I said chuckling, "Get up bro, I'll wait for you downstairs. Don't forget your Ice hockey, swinging thing."

He groaned and said, "I hate you."

"Love you too!" I ran downstairs, grabbing an apple from the kitchen. I took my skateboard, grabbed my one-shoulder black Hurley schoolbag, and my lunch as I sow my family sitting in the dining table as they all look in my direction.

"Good morning to you too," My father remarks as he had Gizem, my little sister, on his knee and a toast in his hand.

I went in to kiss my father's forehead, "Good morning," I reply.

There was a loud thumping sound in the stairs, and then Ziam appeared with his crappy attitude. "Sorry, dad," Ziam grabbed the toast out of my father's hand and sat down to eat. My father glared at his 18-year-old son, and he at least had the decency to look ashamed before biting into it.