How I Met Mr Jinn ✔️

Chapter Forty-Two

Time

In a time in which my own mind has become a home for nothing but doubts, I had found distraction to be my only comfort. And as busy as I was, I chose my distraction to be something of use. I raised the volume of a sheikh recitation of the Quran and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I let out all my worries as I exhaled. My leg on top of the other as I sat cross-legged on my bed; my hands gently touched the knee before it, stretching my back to stand as straight a sit could. However, Ahmed's voice broke my focus and startled, I looked up at him with confusion. ''What the hell are you doing?'' He asked.

''Meditation...?'' I guessed, pausing the youtube video on my laptop before I spoke.

''The halal way, right? You look like a Buddhist monk,'' He commented.

I rolled my eyes and asked, ''What do you want?''

''Your phones been ringing nonstop, don't you hear it?'' He asked, handing me it in a lazy, carefree manner. I ignored his question and watched him make his way to my bed and taking a seat beside me while digging his hands into a bag of chips. I shot him a nasty glare, urging him to explain his presence, but all he did was shrug back. Ignoring him, I looked down and frowned at the caller's number. ''Who is it?'' Ahmed questioned, raising a brow.

''How should I know? It's probably an ad or something.'' I replied. I was about to answer until I saw the look on Ahmed's face as he watched me with great suspicion and disbelief. ''Hey.. why are you looking at me like that?'' I asked, glaring back at him.

''Look, my parents might think your going crazy, but I think you in love.'' He replied casually, a sly smirk on his lips.

''What!?'' I exclaimed.

''It's ok, I was also like that when I first met Fatima,'' He laughed, his eyes wide with amusement as he watched my state. I could feel myself going red by the heat that surrounded my body, and how sweaty my palms have gotten. ''It's not like that,'' I lied, but I knew he was stubborn and refused to prove my innocence to him by words. I answered the call and asked, ''Hello?''

I could sense Ahmed's gaze on me as we both sat there waiting for a response, but I ignored it and waited for them to answer, or whoever it was on the other end. All I could hear was people talking, a lot of people all at once. Are they in a restaurant or the mall?

"What do they want?" He asked, swallowing a handful of potato chips.

"I can't make out anything," I answered, glancing back at him. He raised a brow, ''Wallah?''

''Wallah,''

He sighed in disappointment, "Maybe its a wrong number,"

"Maybe, I-"

I was interrupted with an oddly familiar voice that closely resembled Amals, only this one sounded like she was at the verge of collapsing into tears, but was holding it in like the strong woman she was. It held a cold that made my body shiver, but all it was, was a simple "Hello?"

"Amal? Is that you?" I asked, "Why didn't you call me on your phone?"

"My phone died, this is my moms," She explained, ''but that isn't important right now,''

''Then what is, Amal?'' I asked, making sure to use her name in front of Ahmed who seemed even more disappointed.

''Marisol.''

''What about her? I was just with her in the cafe after school- we all were.''

''She got into a car accident," She cried.

"What? How?" I exclaimed, attracting Ahmed's curiosity and interest.

"What's wrong?" He asked, but he got no answer in return.