What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Chapter 3

For a modest Muslim girl, Nadia loved buying all types of clothes for me. Even if I refused them, she'd buy them and give me a whole stack on my birthday, all with the receipts neatly attached. She dragged me to Academy and started looking at hoodies and jackets.

"Don't you think you tipped that server too much?" I asked her, admiring a Rice t-shirt. It was lovely, white with blue and silver jersey stripes. Too bad it was too small, otherwise I would buy it in an instant.

Nadia's neck snapped to face me. Her eyes shot bullets into my heart " His name is Cal and no, I didn't. He has a younger sister and a mom with dementia. His dad left them in a trashy apartment for his secretary. So no, I didn't tip him too much and now I feel worse for not giving him more."

Her eyes showed how much disgust was targeted towards Cal's father. Her hands were clenched and trembling. I hung that shirt back on the rack and held Nadia. She hesitated, then warmed into my embrace. Her eyes were watery.

Nadia's family life is complicated. Her dad died when she was 12, by a racist jerk. There was no court case, the man was never even accused of manslaughter. Her mother soon died of a broken heart and left her with a 3-year old brother and a bunch of hateful, greedy relatives. Nadia's parents were wealthy, and left her the family business and several homes across the world. But the will only comes into her possession after she turns 20. Right now she lives in an apartment that she pays for herself with Ahmad.

"Thank you." She croaks into my ear before letting go. Nadia quickly adjusts herself. "So, my place then? Ahmad wants to see you. He misses your cookies." she smiled, knowing my weakness for her adorable brother.

"I wanna see my cookie monster! You deprived me of him for too long." I laughed. We started to walk, our hands full of clothes as we headed to her truck. Yes, if you're asking, she bought a truck for herself. Don't hate on her. Girls can drive oversized vehicles.

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"Tay-Tay!" My darling favorite human being came running at me. I dropped my bags and picked Ahmad up, spinning him as he rose higher. He squealed, his black curls fluffing around his head. Nadia laughed as she started putting away some groceries.

I set Ahmad down, kissing his soft baby skin. "How's mean-old Nadia treating you? Is she only giving you veggies?" I joked as he clung to me. He was the mirror image of Nadia, with wide innocent eyes and chubby cheeks.

"She doesn't give me candy. No cookies either!" Ahmad had a slight lisp, one that came from speaking two different languages. It was adorable. I looked at Nadia, who was taking off her scarf.

I arched an eyebrow at her. "What ungodly cruelty are you putting my child through? Have you no heart?!"

Nadia sat down and tugged Ahmad away from me, pulling him into her lap. "He doesn't need any more sugar, or else the bees will sting him. Right, Ahmad?" she tickled his sides, with me quickly joining in.

"NO, NO!" he squealed, attempting (and failing) to push our arms away. Finally, Nadia and I stopped and she headed into the kitchen. Knowing her, she'd probably be making some pizza for Ahmad and me. She's literally the most prepared person on earth, even better than my mom.

Plus, Nadia makes really good chocolate cakes. Only when I come though. Maybe that's why Ahmad likes me...

"By the way, I have a duffel bag full of the clothes I picked up from your house," Nadia called over her shoulder from where she pulled something amazing out of the oven. I just gaped her. How the hell did my mom even agree to this?

"You have something to tell me before I beat the crap out of Evan." she sang as she sat a tray of lasagna down on the table. When Ahmad stood up though, she gave him a look. "Maghrib first. You'll burn your tongue if you eat now."