My Dunya (NEEDS EDITING)

Chapter 3- Game On

CHAPTER 3

I returned from the kitchen with one of my brother Adam's favourite hot chocolates warming up in my hands. It was one that our dad used to make us when we were young with tiny marshmallows, a sprinkle of cocoa powder and chocolate chips that melted inside. You could say I was in a definite good mood. As I approached him in the living room, I handed over the hot chocolate I made him and plopped down next to him on the couch with an umph.

I looked over at him and noticed all the changes in him since I've last seen him 6 months ago. It wasn't necessarily that long, but with Adam away for college, I've missed him like crazy. I took account of his clean-cut anchor beard and the fact that his clothes seem a little more snug on him than I remember.

"You know, school is stressful Dunya, and plus, I haven't had time to go to the gym," he explained as he saw me observing his slight change in weight. But despite everything, he still looked pretty darn good.

"Excuses, excuses," I brushed him off. "So how long are you staying?" I asked.

"Just until I can get some things done," he said suspiciously.

"What things?" I eyed him.

"It's none of your business Dunya, just enjoy the fact that I'm here okay? You'll know in time." "Anyway," he said changing the topic, "Why's Casey pressed up our window waving like a bafoon?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Casey?" I asked as I turned around to indeed find her nose scrunched up our front window making her look like a hog.

"Real mature Case," I said sternly but couldn't help bursting into a fit of laughter. "You could pass for a nine year old," I told her.

"Well, that's good, because I lightened you up and now..." she paused for emphasis, "I am going to lighten you up even more!"

"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously. If there's one thing about Casey and I that work, is that we are polar opposites. And if she considers something good for me, chances are that it really isn't.

"Today's the school barbeque and you are going, and we are going to have fun and love it and, no need to thank me," she exclaimed proudly. Ugh! I almost forgot. Our annual school barbeque is nothing to scream about. It's basically teachers cooking year old hotdogs, students getting drunk behind the school and nothing but a complete mess, which is why I never go, and Casey knows that.

"But Casey, what's there to do?" I whined. "Nothing good ever goes on there!" I beckoned.

"Yeah, but this year I'm on the board committee and we've been planning this for months, and it's gonna be a whole lot of fun. I promise! It's gonna be like a carnival almost, with face painting, real food, games and a whole lot. Pleeeease come! For me?" She begged.

"Ugh, fine. But just for you! If anything bad happens, I'm gone," I compromised after giving in.

"Yes! I love you! Okay, what are you waiting for? Come on get dressed!" She urged, pushing me up to my room to find clothes. She insisted on a peach sundress with a cream cardigan and zigzag patterned peach and cream colored hijab to match. I slipped into my beige crochet Toms, put a dab of perfume on my wrists, grabbed my phone and we headed out the door.

In the car, she had the music blaring so loud that the car was literally shaking. I felt as if my eardrums were about to rupture. So I turned it down, and changed the radio channel to some opera. I knew it would irritate her.

"You're kidding right? Opera, what are you my grandma?" she teased.

"Nah, I'm just feeling the music, aight?" I said slowly and calmly, making me sound like some sort of hippie. But honestly, though, I hate opera.