All These Broken Pieces

chapter three.

NOW.

Khalid al-Fayet barely made it through the day - between telling Mr Docson that he quit the school newspaper, an interrogation-slash-therapy session with Mr Parker and withstanding Rikoo Clarke stage-whisper hateful, islamophobic sentiments and made-up verses of the Quran - he felt like collapsing.

All his life, he's gone through crippling disappointment and isolation, being the article-writing Muslim boy he was. But there's always been some sort of upside to it. First, it was his stellar 4.0 Grade-Point-Average. Then, it was his score as editor of the school newspaper. And of course, Colette Evans.

He remembers how Cole would get so furious whenever someone said something hateful and islamophobic. There was one time, when he and Colette were only friends, that a senior jock had shoved him and snickered, "What're you gonna do, Allahu Akbar? Bomb me?"

Khalid had shrugged it off, but Colette had been enraged. She had marched up to the guy and shoved him, saying, "What's your fucking problem, Timmy? It's like me terrorizing you for what your fucking ancestors did during the goddamn Salem Witch Trials."

Timmy had laughed and shrugged, pinching Cole's cheek. "I'm sorry, Co."

"Don't apologize to me," she had scoffed, shrugging off his touch.

For some reason, Timothy Jones apologized to Khalid, but that still didn't stop the rest of the school from consistently making Muslim terrorist jokes whenever he was around.

And after Colette did what she did, the hateful remarks only got worse. A handful of them claim that Khalid had turned Colette into a hardcore Muslim and the two had been in a Muslim extremist group. That, of course, was bullshit. Khalid's parents were Muslim, yes, but neither he nor his sisters were anywhere near as devout as his parents. And even then, his parents would never impose his religion onto him or his girlfriend so forcefully. If anyone had been blatantly against their relationship, it was Colette's father.

Khalid brings the cup of coffee up to his lips, and sips. The sensation of both bitter and heat is welcome to him. Even here, he feels the hateful eyes of onlookers and passer-bys. In their small town, everyone knows everyone; and Colette's shooting had made Khalid and Kennedy infamous.

Not a moment later, Kennedy walks through the doors, eyes downcast and hands playing with the sleeves of her oversized sweater. He remembers a time where Kennedy had dressed like that, pre-Colette. Many people in their high school thought that Kennedy had taken a complete 360 in terms of fashion, but what they didn't know was that she was right back where she started.

He watches as her earth brown eyes scan the room, looking for him. When his eyes meet hers, he raises his fingers in a half-wave, perfectly matching the half-smile on her face.

Kennedy walks over to Khalid, tall and lithe and lacking the grace of his ex-girlfriend. She slides into the seat opposite him, fumbling with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

She shrugs. "Not hungry."

He hesitates, trying to gauge her reaction. "Are you sure? What about coffee?"

Kennedy Mcmillen hesitates, licking her chapped lips. "Yeah. Okay. Just a latte."