Beautiful Things (A Muslim Love Story)

Chapter Thirteen: And we Gonna let it Burn

Everything has a start and everything has a finish, except for love. Like I'll never stop loving my parents. And even though Emma can be a pain sometimes, she'is my sister and I'll always love her, too. I won't ever stop loving God or his messenger. And I won't stop loving cupcakes. That's it, right? Though the low points come when my family angers me, and I think I stopped loving them when deep down, I love them but can't feel it. Soon, when I cool down, I can feel the love. Is it like that with everything?

-Excerpt from Asiyah's mind

Breathe, Asiyah, and smile. I looked pretty in a long black maxi dress, a golden belt and a small, rusty blue trench coat. My scarf was a navy blue color the showed off my fair complexion.

I didn't want to start, but I had to if I wanted to finish.

Emma looked beautiful, as always, her flawless chic bangs and shiny waves in her hair. Her curvy but cute black skirt to the ankles and long golden heart on black shirt, completed with golden boots matched her fair face and connected the dots to the shape of beauty. I can see why Peter likes her.

"You girls are just beautiful," my mother sighed, leaving for work, as always.

I didn't feel beautiful. I felt pretty, but not beautiful.

"So, ready for eleventh grade, Emma?" I asked. By the time I sat down ti eat my pancakes, my mother had left.

"Course," was Emma's reply. She had a lot of stuff on her mind, friends and school and driving lessons.

There wasn't much talking, just small eating noises.

This time I didn't break the silent wall.

"Glad to be at your last year of U?" Emma smiled.

"I like you," I mumbled, lying to myself and Emma. I used to like U. 

"I'm gonna apply next year," Emma told me.

"Darius?" I guessed.

"No, Oxford."

The silence wasn't unexpected. Emma's gifted, and Oxford would be more than glad to accept her. And my parents would be okay with that, even if Oxford was all the way in England. "Say hi to my parents!" was all they would say.

The doorbell rang its six second tune. 

"That's Delina," Emma beamed, grabbing her backpack. She turned to look at me.

"Bye, Siya. Have fun at university."

Envy stabbed my heart as Emma left with her friend, Delina. I always left with Almas and Gowaria on the first day of school. We left in our "I woke up like this" shirts and always stopped at Starbucks for coffee, even if we were super late or didn't feel like coffee. And we used to put this weird Japanese mix that we didn't really get but liked.

Gowaria and Almas were probably listening to it now.

Sighing, I got my bag and left. When I got in the car and started it, I opened the CD slot to put in my favorite mix, when a CD fell out.

Slowly turning it around, I read what it said.

It was the Japanese mix.

So now I had two choices. I could put it in and listen to old memories, or I could toss it away and put my CD in. 

I decided that both would equally painful, so I broke the CD and half and drove on. 

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