HER CRUSH

Chapter3

Zarah...
"Today's lecture was a nightmare, wallahi," I groaned, throwing my pen into my bag. "Mallam Yusuf is wicked. He just sprang a surprise test on us. Without warning!"

Ama rolled her eyes. "Zarah, you always complain. At least you wrote something."

"At least," I muttered. "Better than submitting an empty sheet like some people."

Farida tilted her head, watching me closely. "How do you think you did?"

Ama sighed like someone carrying the world's problems. "This Biostatistics course is not for the weak. Alhamdulillah, that's all I can say."

She  leaned closer, lowering her voice. "By the way... Farouq said he's been trying to reach you. Please, can you pick up his calls? He's disturbing me."

I stopped in my tracks. "Farouq?"

"Yes, him," she pressed.

I shrugged, pretending not to care though my chest gave a stupid, small jump. "I don't answer unknown numbers. How was I supposed to know it was him?"

"Let's go home," I said quickly, standing and adjusting my hijab.

But Farida caught my hand. "Zarah, wait. You have to come with us."

"What? No, I'm going home. I have something important to do."

Ama and Farida exchanged a look..the kind of look that meant trouble....before dragging me toward the parking lot. A sleek black Nissan sat there, engine humming softly, windows tinted.

My stomach sank. Wallahi, if this is Farouq...

"We'll drop you off," Ama said too sweetly.

"No, thank you," I shot back.

"Please, Zarah'n Abdul. I promise no trouble."

She knew my weak point. With a sigh, I muttered, "Fine. Let's go."

Ama and Farida slid into the back, forcing me into the passenger seat. The door creaked open, and my heart nearly stopped....Farouq was in the driver's seat, his dark eyes fixed on me.

I turned sharply to glare at Ama through the rearview mirror. You are finished. Dead meat.

Ama only winked, her guilty smile wide.

"Traitor," I mouthed.

Farouq cleared his throat. "Bah gaisuwa."

"Toh, sannu," I replied stiffly.

He studied me like I was a puzzle. "Yesterday, I called you but you didn't pick."

"I slept early," I lied smoothly.

"Early? I called around 8:30."

"Yes. I was already asleep by then," I repeated, forcing my face into calmness even though my pulse was betraying me.

His gaze lingered, too steady. "Don't sleep early today. I'll call again.....just pick, okay?"

I shifted in my seat. "We'll see."

"Where's your phone?" he asked suddenly.

"In my bag."

He reached for it. "Let me see."

I pulled it closer to my chest. "Battery is low."

A faint smile curved his lips, like he knew I was lying but decided to let it slide. The rest of the ride fell into silence, I hated that my heart was beating faster than it should.

Finally, they dropped me off. Ama waved too innocently as if she hadn't just staged an ambush.

Inside, the smell of food wrapped around me. I followed it to the dining table where Aunty Ramla and Chuchu were eating.

"What are you guys eating?" I asked.

"Your enemy....zogale!" Chuchu grinned, mouth full.

I scrunched my face. "Eww, really?"

Aunty Ramla gave me a sharp look. "Zarah, go and bring my lipstick. The one you carried. I checked my box....it's gone. Kafin naci ubanki."

I laughed nervously. "Aunty na, please, ki barmani. Just this one."

Chuchu snickered. "Check her wardrobe, Aunty. She even took your turban!"

I reached over and smacked her neck lightly. "Yen yen yen. Big mouth."

"Better bring it," Aunty snapped.

Before I could defend myself, my brain suddenly screamed: Abdul's live chat!

I dashed to my room, threw my hijab on the bed, and grabbed my phone.

"They already started," I muttered, quickly joining the live.

On screen, Abdul sat on a couch, his sister beside him. His sky-blue T-shirt made his skin glow, and his British accent....ya Allah....why was it so smooth?
Comments flew across the screen:
"I love you!"
"Say my name!"
"Are you half-cast?"
"Where are you schooling?"

Abdul laughed softly. "Well, my dad's Nigerian, my mom's British... so, yeah."

"Oxford University, Engineering, final year," he answered another, casual like it wasn't the dream of half the girls watching.

My fingers trembled as I typed: Hey, man crush! Hope to meet you soon — @ZarahUTukur

The comment scrolled past. For one split second, Abdul's gaze flickered, like he had seen it... but then he read another name instead.

My chest tightened. Why did I expect him to notice me? There are thousands of girls screaming for him. I'm nothing special.

But still, the sting was there.

When someone asked if he had a girlfriend, he chuckled, lips curving with mystery. "Well, yeah, I'm taken. But shhh... not for public."

My heart fell straight into my stomach. Taken. Of course.

The live ended with his promise to create an account soon. I smiled anyway. Ya Allah, please... one day, let him notice me.

I had just finished praying Isha when my phone rang.....Farouq again. I almost ignored it but picked up at the last second.

"Assalamu alaikum," I mumbled.

"Wa'alaikum salam, Zarah. How are you?" His voice was low, almost careful.

"I'm fine, Alhamdulillah."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I was about to."

"Am I disturbing?"

"No."

"Good. I need to see you, Zarah. When are you free?"

My throat tightened. "I don't know... but I'll let you know."

"Okay. Sleep well," he said softly, then hung up.

Back in the parlor, Aunty Ramla was still on about her lipstick, Chuchu was still snitching, and Ya Hafiz was lost in a phone call with his girlfriend.

But my mind wasn't there.

Later, when I finally returned to my room, a new message lit up my screen.
From Farouq.

"We need to talk. It's important."

I stared at the words, my heartbeat loud in the silence.

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