Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 8 - Girls Day Gone Wrong

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

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Warsan's P.O.V

I stretched my arms out and yawned obnoxiously. As always, the Tea Shop was empty. I was getting paid minimum wage for sitting in an empty room and listening to the sound of life outside the store windows. Cars drove by, little kids tapped the windows playfully and friends strolled by lost in conversation. I was used to all of this. In fact, the silence relaxed me. I preferred this deafening quiet over the hectic atmosphere when I'm working at the hospital for school. I took a box of chai tea and tossed it in the air. Just as I caught it between my fingers, the door rang, letting me know we had a customer. 'Hi, welcome to the Tea Shop, where everything you need is just a sip away!' I said, feeling like a broken tape-recorder. I repeated that very line more times in a day than I greeted people with salam. I spoke without looking at the door, still playing with the box.

'I need my best friend. I didn't know I could drink her though.' I jumped at the sound of Jannah's voice. Muna clapped her hands and nodded with approval. 'Was that good?' Jannah asked her, stifling back giggles. The two took some time to collect themselves before sporting serious faces.

I looked at my friends, who didn't look any different from the last time I saw them. Jannah wore a black hijab and abaya, with a loose drawstring tied at her middle. Her brown skin was as bright as day, glowing naturally without any makeup on. Hanging down her shoulder was a matte black satchel, accompanied by a fuzzy black pom-pom. Muna stood tall and beautiful, glowing radiantly as well. Her grey hijab was wrapped around her head and tossed over her shoulder, adding to the elegance. She rocked a black abaya too, customizing it with a denim jacket. I took note of the fact that we were all wearing our favorite type of vans. They waited with pained smiles for me to say something. Jannah's eyes were growing watery and that broke my heart. 'Hey, guys.' Was all I could say. Muna sighed and walked towards the counter. She reached for my hands and squeezed them reassuringly. Jannah joined her, placing her hands on top of ours.

'You've always been one to run away from problems, you know that right?' Muna whispered. 'Tell us what's been bothering you. We're all ears, right Jannah?' She asked, turning to her right. Jannah nodded firmly.

Muna's P.O.V

Warsan was the last to walk out, turning her back to lock the store. Today was a Sunday, and they closed at 5 pm, which gave us all the time in the world to hang out. Jannah sighed before shaking her head. 'Warsan I'm really sorry. I should've paid more attention to how you felt. I always get lost in my own problems.'

Warsan groaned, pulling at her cheeks. She looked silly now, wearing her uniform: a dark green vest accompanied by a black hijab and black skirt. 'Stop apologizing Jannah! It's not your fault. Or yours, Muna.' Warsan stepped between us and tossed her arms over our shoulders. 'My parents just gotta chill, you know?' We nodded in agreement.

'Everything has already been written by Allah. We can't force things to happen. What is meant for us will reach us, and what isn't meant for us will never be ours.' I explained, leading the group down the street.

'Now that's some haqq (truth)!' Jannah said in a deep voice. We all began to laugh.

'You sounds like Akhlaaq.' Warsan said through cackles. Jannah nodded, saying that was the point.

'Speaking of Akhlaaq, let's go to the bookstore. Asr is in five minutes and there's a little prayer room in the book factory.' I told them, pulling Warsan onto the crosswalk. Jannah followed closely behind, complaining about the air conditioning in the factory.

'You're whining as if it's out of your power to change it.' Warsan teased.

'Dawud is the CEO, habibti. Just smooch him on the cheek and tell him it's a little chilly. He'll get rid of every air-conditioner in the city.' I added, running away from her when she tried to punch my arm. She chased me all the way into the bookstore, stopping only when I was behind the counter and Akhlaaq's built figure. 'Save me, husband!' I exclaimed.

'Akhlaaq, step aside.' Jannah demanded, struggling to get the words out because she was laughing so hard.

Warsan nodded. 'That naughty comment deserves a slap.. or two.'

Akhlaaq turned to me, brown eyebrows raised. 'I thought naughty comments were solely reserved for me.' He whined. I pushed him away and ran to my friends, feeling my face redden with embarrassment. 'That was the only way I could get her in your vicinity, guys.' He said apologetically. Warsan shuddered with disgust as Jannah rolled her eyes.

'Gross.' She said.

'What is?' Dawud appeared from behind a bookshelf. Immediately, his smile grew as Jannah walked over to him. They greeted one another and hugged shyly before returning to the counter. 'Assalamu'Alaykum everyone.' He said. We all returned the salam. Dawud's eyes fell on Warsan and his smile stretched even more. 'Warsan! It's been so long since I last saw you. How have you been?'

Jannah squeezed him with admiration, stuffing her face in his chest. He rubbed her back, eyes still shining at Warsan. Alhamdullilah, she said. ' And the hospital? It must be stressful balancing shifts at work and then dealing with patients all night.' Warsan shook her head modestly, looking down at her feet.

'Nah, it's nothing. If you're not working hard, you're hardly working.' She said shyly.

Akhlaaq snapped his fingers and pointed them at her. 'That's some haqq!' He said.

Jannah was the first to laugh, rushing to Warsan for support. The two of them snickered obnoxiously, making it all the more hard not the join them. I couldn't bear it anymore, joining in on the laughter too. It felt good, laughing with my best friends. It was such a nostalgic feeling.

Dawud and Akhlaaq shared confused glances. 'Am I missing something?' He asked Dawud.

Dawud smirked. 'It's almost like when you try to be funny, you're not. But when you don't try to be funny, you are.' He teased. The door opened, stopping Akhlaaq from retorting. All us girls moved away from the doorway and stood some distance from the counter. The customer, who wore a cast over his arm, smiled at Dawud and greeted him, and then went on to greet my husband. Dawud grabbed ahold of his hand and pointed towards us. 'Girls, this is Uthman. He's Abdallah-

Warsan gasped upon locking eyes with him, blinking as if what was in front of her was a mirage. Dawud's friend Uthman turned back on his heels and sped out the store, leaving us all speechless.

What.. the... heck?