Holding Hands

Chapter 19

Onus

Hakeem's face loomed over mine. His lips mere inches away from my own. Bright sunlight peeked in through the curtains as the breeze shifted the lavender panels causing the light to dance over his face. We were in my room. Lying in my bed. And his entire body pressed heavily over mine. I couldn't move. I wanted to move though. Didn't I? Put some space between us. How did we end up like this? I couldn't think. From this close, I couldn't deny his handsome features. His chiseled jawline and smooth, chocolate skin. His long lashes and bright, brown eyes. The curve of his full lips. Those poetic lips. I swallowed hard and pulled my eyes from his mouth, looking up into his unrelenting gaze. It was his eyes that held me. He rendered my body immobile with the fierceness of his scrutiny. I felt like he was staring into my very soul and I couldn't release myself from his hold. His lips began to move, but I couldn't hear a sound. I blinked slowly as I strained to hear him. My eyes were losing focus. The weight in my chest increased and I struggled to take in breath as I felt myself pressed further into my bed. Hakeem's lips still moved as I struggled for air beneath him. I was suffocating, gasping for breath, though nothing blocked my mouth. Why couldn't I breathe? And then I understood what he was saying. One word.

Blood.

My eyes shot open and I sat bolt upright. The blanket was in a heap at the edge of my bed. I drew in a ragged breath and shook my head to clear the foggy memory. It was just a dream. Steadying my breathing, I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 3:18 AM. This was not good. I lay back in bed with my eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. It had been nearly a week since Hakeem's tragic visit and I'd dreamed about him twice. Even though Abu kept bringing up his name, I'd only had one really serious conversation with my parents about him. Abu was gearing up to take Hakeem on a 'man date.' Whatever that meant. My main focus right now was getting through the first day of college. But No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't seem to get Hakeem out of my head. Could it be that I was being haunted by my decision to use Hakeem?

I forced myself to think of  school. Visions of a cookie cutter college floated in front of my eyes- professors and tests and books. What would I have to face on my first real day in the big, bad world? How many times had mom tried to warn me that college and homeschool were vastly different. I tried to convince myself that everything would go smoothly, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew something was coming. As I drifted back to sleep,I squeezed my eyes shut and began to recite the words of the last three chapters of the Quran. Ikhlas, Falaq, and Nas were the prayers for protection. I didn't realize how much I was going to need it.

I didn't consider myself vain, but I did like to look great. As I tucked my blouse into my wide leg pants, Umi's words came to mind. "There is no beauty greater than intellect." It was one of her favorite sayings from Prophet Muhammad, God bless his soul. Brains over beauty. She was right, of course. But couldn't I be smart and look good?