Hijabi Style: The Surprisingly Average Life Of A Teenage Muslim Girl

Closed Doors

The past never really goes away. It shapes us into who we become as people. I ponder on how I've become a better person since 9/11 until I hear Deena yelling throughout the house. So much for deep thinking in silence.

I often find myself wanting to strangle my sister. Not literally of course, because I love her to death- no pun intended. But sometimes she drives me insane. I'm really hoping that most people with siblings feel this way, otherwise I may need to consult with a therapist...

While looking back on September 11th, my thoughts are rudely interrupted by my 14 year old sister. "Yasmeen! Yasmeen! YASMEEN!"

"What do you want?!" I scream, flush-faced, in response to her incessant knocking and yelling at my closed door. Instead of responding however, the knocking continues.

I mutter angrily to myself and walk towards the door. "This had better be good."

I open the door.

"There's a boy!" Deena yells, with wide brown eyes.

"You practically destroyed my door to tell me you have a crush?" I exclaim, throwing my hands up in aggravation.

"No! He has, like, curly brown hair! And hazel eyes! And he's gorgeous! With olive skin! And he's here!"

"So go ask him to marry you, then!" I reply and start to close the door.

Deena stops the door with her foot. "No! Not me! You! For you!"

"You're not making any sense!"

Deena comes into my bedroom and takes a few breaths. "I'm sorry. I was just so panicked!" Once she's calm again, I ask her to explain what's happening.

"Okay. So start from the beginning."

"Okay. I was getting a snack, you know, regular Saturday afternoon activity, and I was trying to decide between Ho-Hos and Ding Dongs. But then I saw we had pretzels and-"

"Could we maybe skip the snack part?" I cut her off, rolling my eyes in amusement.

"Right. So I grabbed a few pretzels from the kitchen and while I passed the front door, I heard a knock." She stops to look at me.

"Go on."

"I wasn't expecting anyone so I thought it was Tessa, here to see you. So I opened the door and there was this boy that I'd never seen before! And I screamed and slammed the door shut!" She says.

"Oh. So he's gone then?"

"No! He yelled through the closed door that he's a friend of yours! He's still at the door, knocking!"

Wait. So Kennedy was here? "Maybe it's my friend, Ken. But he doesn't fit the description you gave..." I muse aloud.

"Is this Ken?" Deena points to a boy in a picture beside Tessa and I.

"Yes."

"This is not the boy at the door, Yasmeen. I'm scared."

I hug her, concerned. "It's going to be okay, Deena." I murmur, though I'm not sure if it will be. Abba and Ummi aren't home, and there's a deranged guy outside.

I think a moment, while still holding my sister. Deena said the guy has curly hair, didn't she? And olive skin? And hazel eyes... HAZEL EYES?

No way. Absolutely no friggin' way! Major was at my front door? The boy who pretended not to know me until two days ago?! And in addition to knowing who my friends were, he knew where I lived?!

Obviously, I was wrong to be pissed at Deena just a few minutes ago. This was getting old fast, and becoming creepier by the minute.

What the hell was going on?