Converting for You (A Muslim Love Story)

Chapter 2- A fellow Classmate

Alhamdulillah! I'm so glad that I didn't toppled over this student. He was a guy! Astaghfirullah.

"I-" He said, completely dumbfounded with his mouth agape. He stared for a few more seconds and I wondered if he zoned out. I looked to my right and left, hoping no one saw this embarrassing scene.

"Edward! Will you stop staring at her and let her come in? Show some decency for once," The teacher shouted with fury lacing in her words.

"Mrs Trambeth, I wasn't staring at all and at least I had the strength and kindness to open the door," The kid called Edward angrily complained as he muttered the last words. He moved to the side and swiped his hand out to the classroom. As if trying to be some type of gentleman to me... What am I thinking! Ainul, you haven't even been at the school for more than five minutes and look where your mind has got to!

"Darling dear, please come here so the class could know you," Mrs Trambeth forced a smile, though disgust was written all over her face. What have I done to deserve that reaction? Was my hijab crooked?

"No thank you Mrs Trambeth, I'm fine," I said quietly, cowering from the stares of the class as they whispered amongst themselves.

"It would be a pleasure to know you, isn't that right, class?" She states and the students erupted with a loud yes. Leaving no place for comment, I strode to the front of the class.

"Uhm, hello g-good morning, I'm Ainul and I'm from-" I stuttered as I was cut off by some guy's voice.

"G-good morning, I'm Ainul and I'm from the dumps." He mimics in a high pitched voice, emphasizing the word 'dumps.' "Girl have some sense in speaking. With all your stutter, you probably wet your pants already." He sniggered as he high fived his friends beside him and the crowd roars with laughter. Astaghfirullah. No Ainul, do not cry, just ignore them, may Allah guide them.

"Settle down Mike and you all. Anything else you would like to say?" Mrs Trambeth asked, seeming to not even hear that guy's rude comment or ask for an apology from him.

"No, I am fine," I replied. I walked with my head held down and tried to prevent the tears from falling. Why couldn't a first day be no different than all other days.

"Look at that dress or should I say skirt, so horrendous and disgusting, she has no taste in fashion," a girl whispered to her friends as they pointed to my clothes, "no wonder she wore that weird thing on her head, probably because she's bald," deep breaths Ainul, you can do it.

I shuffled quickly pass and Alhamdulillah, I found an empty seat near the window. I sat down and quickly took my stuff out, listening to the teacher as my heart erratically beats from the humiliation I just experienced.

I heard a shuffling as the chair beside me was pulled and I don't need to look up as to who it could possibly be. Probably some guy trying to make fun of me, or maybe someone wants to be friends with me. Astaghfirullah Ainul, don't get your hopes too high, I sadly sighed in despair. This day just can't get any better, can it?

I turned to my side out of curiosity and did a mental slap in the head. Edward had to sit next to me. A guy! This day really isn't going as I hoped it would. But atleast, he was the only one who showed a glimmer of kindness.

..

This period took ages to finish, with the teacher talking about language techniques such as hyperbole, juxtaposition and yada yada, adding up with kids chucking paper balls at the back of the head. I cannot express how grateful I was to finally be out of the class. I took out my timetable to see what I'll have next.

"Hey," someone called from behind. I turned and was met with Edward, again. "What'd you got next?"

"Just maths room 25," I shoved my timetable back in and scurried away before he got a chance to reply. I really need to learn to be nicer to people.

But after 'that day,' there is no more trust that I could offer to people, nor would there be any close friends who I'd accept. Life isn't always full of rainbow sparkles on a cupcake, it can be just the wrapper in which it will always be thrown away, like a waste of space.

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