LOOK AT ME (Muslim Story)

He looked at me (45)

I'm back to square one.

Back to having no friends, no interactions, no Ahmed and no fucking Avery. I'm back to where I started in the ninth grade.

I cried for minutes. Hours, days and I might even cry for months. The next court date was a usual, nothing new. Avery testified and guess what? She was true to her word. She admitted that she a part of the whole thing and how Brandon told her to turn off the cameras. She added a little twist to it though, saying that Brandon forced her. I mean, it doesn't mean I'm friends with Avery. It just means I hate her just a little tiny bit less than before because she helped me a lot in my case.

Tomorrow is when we find out the results. I told my lawyer I couldn't attend because the last couple of court dates, I didn't see Ahmed in the crowd. He wasn't there.

And because he wasn't there, I just didn't want to be there either.

I thought that maybe it would be easier you know? Easier if I never met him. Because before when I never met him, I had a good relationship with my dad, usual beatings and encounters with Mcfuckson and several pictures taken by my school mates.

Now, I feel like I have no one. Ahmed was my rock. Like he was really there all the time. Now it was hard to walk in the hallways without looking.

After breaking our friendship I thought about it for a minute. Was if my fault? It couldn't be, he brought it up.

He really felt the need to remind me that we wouldn't end up together? Something didn't feel right that day. It was crazy how my mood just broke by ten times and brought lower just because of some stupid boy who wanted to ruin me in all places.

I don't know what it is, but it hurts.

I didn't sleep for a long time, that even Maryam, Fatima's mom was getting worried. The family was watching my every step like I would break down and cry if I Even uttered a word. I love them too. Fatima's family is literally my second family.

Fatima is like my sister at home. But at school, we don't talk.

I stopped wearing the hijab. The next day I came in with my hoodie. I just thought I was ready for my comitments yet. Ahmed used to be the one taking me to the mosque, bringing me back. He was amazing to say the least.

I miss him.

I walked down the hallway to my locker as usual. Across from my locker range was Ahmed, his back towards me. I'd watch him sometimes, wonder what it was about him that drew me to him in the beginning.

Some guy came, probably a friend of his. They did a handshake and Ahmed smiled at him. Smiling? Is he smiling?

I feel like I just broke off an engagement with my future husband and I'm out here crying, looking like a dead and squished bug while he's out here in the hallways, talking to some guys and SMILING?

Oh wait, he just laughed. He's LAUGHING now too?

I don't remember the last time I laughed. I really don't.

When Ahmed took a small glance towards my hallway, that's when I jumped back into reality and hit the locker beside me as a reflex while turning around. He didn't see me looking did he? I should probably hide. What if he comes this way? Oh god.

You know what? Mind your business. Just do that.

I opened my locker, putting some books inside. Who cares about Ahmed? I don't.

I was taking out my math textbook when I felt a tap on the shoulder.

I turned around really fast.

"Hi." I heard a squiggly immature voice kick in, "You probably don't know me, but I'm Gerby."

I let my expressions fall. I knew exactly who this kid is. It's the same dude with the geek glasses and a new camera who takes a picture of me every two seconds. Instead of telling him I recognized him, I played a little game. "Who?"

"Gerby." He repeated, "You probably don't remember but we were in the same class in the seventh grade. We were in history together in grade ten and—"

"And you take pictures of me from all corners of this high school." I nodded my head, "Yeah, we're not strangers. And it's also the first time I see you without a camera."

He pushed his glasses up his nose, "Oh um. I just wanted to say that you don't look like your usual self today."

What.

Is this short nerdy geek kid who pretends to know who I am really telling me that I don't look like my usual self today? IS HE?

I coughed, "And how the fuck would you know that, smartass?"

"Well, according to my calculations of Emerald Green's behaviour on a daily basis, I've come to a conclusion where—" he takes out a notebook and begins to flip pages, "You usually act a little angry in the morning, happy in the afternoon and happiest on the way home. I've also noticed that—"

"Wait." I paused, "What are you, a stalker? How do you know this shit about me?"

"What Shit?" He asked cluelessly, "You mean the fact that the reason why you feel a little bit more at home in this school is because of Ahmed Wahab? Oh I'm not the only one who noticed that. And I've also noticed how your eyes turn a little brighter when you see him. The left side of your mouth rises and—"

"Ew." I cringed, "Get away from me Einstein."

"That isn't the approach I was trying to get from you." He rubbed his hands together, tucking his notebook back from wherever it even came from, "I just wanted to let you know that I may come off creepy, but I'm actually here for you."

What the fuck?

I slowly backed away, "Yeah, I'm going to punch you."

"If punching me makes you feel better then—" he paused and placed himself in front of me, "Please feel free to do so."

I laughed. Okay, hold on. This kid Gerby is actually pretty funny. I mean who knew this geek would actually beg for my attention like this? I know I didn't expect it.

"Look Gerby," I covered my mouth from the laughter, "You're a weird one alright. You're a freak. But I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"We could hang out?" He bit his small lip.

Who does this white kid think he is?

"No." I shook my head over and over.

He followed me as I began to walk away, "It's just that I've noticed that Ahmed Wahab doesn't exactly hang out with you that much anymore. For the past few days I've been observing and he's been ignoring you. I just think you need a distraction."

"A distraction?"

"A distraction." He repeated, "You can meet my friends. Maybe you can get over the whole Ahmed Wahab thing."

So there's either sitting at lunch on my own or joining a bunch of losers in the reptile club for lunch and chilling with them at their table. Does it benefit me? No. But maybe I need this.

I shrugged, "I don't care."

"Is that a yes?"

I shrugged again, "Whatever you want it to be."