Hoodies and Hijabs

09|| Familiar Faces

Amal's P.O.V

Without excusing the lady in front of me, I push her to the right and carry on walking. My mood even worse than before.

Ameera has been crying about her mum for a few days now and it's really beginning to anger me. We get it Ameera, your mum is dead, get over it.

I mean we're all going to die one day, why make it such a huge fuss?

My father had called me, about an hour ago - yes it took me an hour to get ready but hello, this magic doesn't happen in an instance - and asked me to meet him in Costa and that made me happy. Not meeting my dad, but the hot chocolate and cookies Costa serve are delicious and I'm sure they'll take away my anger. The way the hot chocolate melts the cookie in your mouth is just a sensational feeling.

I haven't been sleeping well and I honestly don't know why. Ok, I think I know but I'm not sure if that really is the reason or not. It's Othman. He's been on mind since I first saw him.

And it's so stupid because he's a guy and I've never cared about guys - because no guy can ever be equal to me - but that was before I saw him.

When thinking about Othman, I also start having thoughts about his idiotic sister. What's her name again? Shazia? Oh no wait, that's Ameera's dead mum. Or was that the annoying sister? Umm...maybe it's Shazeen?  Oh wait, that's my mum's name.

Oh well who cares, the point is she annoys me.

So much.

I was annoyed at her before I'd even met her. When the head teacher had informed is that there was a new girl and we had to take care of her. I was pissed.

Like hello, do I look like charity to you?

The hatred grew when I met her. The way she talks about Islam. The she's polite and humble. The way she loves her Deen and never misses a prayer. The way she's so kind to everyone and never screams or gets angry.

It makes me so mad.

I was born a Muslim and I wear the hijab. Isn't that good enough? Plus sometimes I pray all five prayers (by that I mean when I'm not too tired to wake up for Fajr). And I fast during Ramadan. I also prayed Taraweeh once last year.

So why do I feel like a terrible person?

I don't know. I've never felt this way before. But it's because of her. It's definitely because of her.

~*~

"Ahlan" He greets me. I come face to face with his light brown eyes, ones I'd inherited from him, dark eyebrows and hair. My dad is good looking, I'm not going to deny, and I'm sure that's where I get it from.

Not that my mum isn't pretty, she is... I think. I mean I haven't seen her in so long I can barely remember what she looks like. But if I'd turned out to be extremely hot, I'm sure she is too.

He doesn't even say Asalam Alaikum. No wonder I've turned out as a crap Muslim. If my parents don't practise or tell me anything, how can I ever please Allah? How can I know what's right and what's not?

"Wa alaikum al Salam wa rahmatu allah wa baraktuh" I reply sarcastically.

"Don't give me attitude" My dad says sternly. "Ihtarimi nafsik"

Behave myself. Ha, as if. I bite back my tongue and say nothing.

"Why did you call me? Did someone die? Because I don't care. Ameera's mum died the other day and she's been going on about it non stop. Do I look like I care? No."