Just Another American

Chapter 4

 After school we strolled home in a slow and steady pace. I explained every detail that happened during biology. Bushra kept silent the entire time, nodding at appropriate times and saying "I see." to the rest. After I finished, I took a deep breath.  We let the words seep in and the atmosphere linger in silence, and stopped at a curve where the signal glowed red. Bushra broke the quiet. "Listen, Rani. I know that Kyle likes you, and his sister seems pretty happy about it. But have you tried explaining it to them? They don't know that we aren't supposed to have a special relationship with the opposite sex, you know? " I thought for a moment. True, but I wondered why Kyle would plan a date when he was so pants-wet-tingly scared of me. It made no sense at all. I was about to say something when the signal gave green and we had to continue again.  "Thanks, Bushra." I said as we said salaam and went our ways home.

***

That night I tried texting Lorelei explaining that I don't think I could go out with Kyle, but I felt shy saying something related to religious matters, so the conversation went like this:

Me: Hi, sup?

L: Hi! Nothin' much. U?

Me: Um...

L: Yes? :)

Me: I was thinking about your bro & I don't think I could go. -_-

L: O no, why? He bought you a gift!

I blushed. Gifts are nice, but I don't think I want one from that dude. I text again.

Me: First I have to go somewhere that night, second, I do NOT have a crush on him.

J: Aw, crap. Where do you have to go?

Me: The masjid.

L: The who?

Me: NM. Goodnight! :)

L: ? K- Nite! :D

I pause again and look up from my phone. Truth was, I've been going to the masjid every Friday night a a lot, not only because I find tranquility where I pray, but because it's a way of disconnecting from worldly problems and re straightening my path to Islam. It's the only place where I feel proud of being who I am as a Muslim and not afraid of my hijab. Question is, should I be afraid?

***

Next day was Wednesday, which meant I had poetry club. Not exactly a club, really, but a group where several of us students met after school to write poetry. It sounds like a dorky idea, but hey- it was my suggestion, so why not? We met at the Literature room, and brainstormed ideas on what topic to pick for our future book. Even dorkier, but whatever. I stole a glance to review our members: Jacob Palov, a  polite and strongly religious Jew who recently moved here- it's nice to meet someone with so many common priorities in religion. Next came Lorelei Jensen,  Bushra Yusuf, Samuel Holchester, Rowan White, Rita Summer, Kim Nimhoon, and well well, Oh Allah. There is who-do-you-know-other-than-Jimin-Spark. Mr. Popular- or should I say, Mr. Perfect. I knew him from last year, and boy, do I adore his asian aeygo. *swoon*. I mean, yeah, it isn't right to have eyes for a dude when you're Muslim, considering that it's prohibited to have a "special friendship", but come. On. It isn't wrong to have your own opinion beauty standards, right? "Hi, Rani, something wrong?"

Oh. Um.

I hadn't realized that I'd been staring too long at his beautiful face, and I'm pretty sure he'd see my tanness flushing cherry red. I look down to lower my gaze, already a moment too late. "Oh, hi-um nothing-nothing. I'm fine. You? Um, I mean, how are you? I didn't mean-" Stupid ol' me. Still looking down at my shoes, I could imagine Spark grinning his naughty, wildly adorable grin. "Yeah, I'm good. You look really cute today, by the way. The pink hijab suits you beautifully- I mean, well, you get my point. Anyways.." He runs a hand through his chestnut dyed hair. Oh, god. I slowly turn my head, covering my flustered face with part of my scarf. I see he has a nice scarlet hue to his cheeks and jawline as well. I manage to shoot a grimacing grin, both flattered and trying to recollect myself. He's so beautiful, though! Remember to lower your gaze. Ataghfirallah. Please, is this a test I have to pass? We don't talk during the whole "meeting" after that. A few minutes after we settle down on our chairs, the session beigins. It's time to share our ideas about the book's topic. "I say that the main idea of our poems should be based on special events in U.S history." Says Kim. Not bad, I think. Rita gives a broader topic about American pride. I like that. Maybe we could do that. It sounds good. I'm about to second that idea when Bushra suggests our poems be based on what describes us. I like that one, too! Everybody suggests different main ideas until one particular suggestion catches my attention. "What about terrorism? I think we should express our opinion against what the Muslims did in 9/11." This time, Lorelei speaks. Um. What? Spark tenses. I then exchange nervous glances with Bushra. It's completely awkward silence until I find my voice and croak, "It's not all Muslims, Lorelei. And those who commit their insane crimes in the name of OUR god is not one of us." Lorelei immedietly responds "OMG! Rani, Bushra! I'm sorry, I didn't mean you guys, I meant- you know, the terrorists. Not you." Her face flushes. Hmph, nice answer, but thanks for trying, anyway. I don't know why people just blame all of us for someone else. I feel like a scape goat right now. Spark speaks. "Look. I know you didn't mean Rani." He pauses, leting the words sink in. "Or Bushra. But please. Let's not get stereo-typical, okay?" Another painful silence. "Okay."  Although the rest of us are still tense from the sudden mashup, Spark still went on. "You know what? Maybe our book could be about appreciating diversity. Kind of like Multi-cultural day, you know?" An absolutely beautiful idea, my hero... You saved the day. "I second it." Everyone turns to look at me. I blush scarlet. Spark smiles. My heart turns to gush. More hands shot up. We agreed on the topic. Job done for today... but I still have to get a hold of myself. How does Spark attempt to be so beautiful like that, and how does he make me feel like a person, not an object?