#Chapter Four#

“What about this one?” I pulled the dress off the rack and held it up for Mira to see. Her eyes glazed over it for all of five seconds before she had made up her mind.

“No.” 

“Why not?!” I groaned, holding it up higher, as if that would change her mind. “It’s modest, it’s a good colour and it’s not overdone. I like it.” 

“It’s not wow enough!”

“Woman, speak in plain terms please.” 

She rolled her eyes and came to stand in front of me. “You need to wow the people. You’re going to be showcased on every media outlet in the country, so you need to look damn good!” 

Impatiently, I huffed and walked towards the changing room. “I don’t want to wow anyone Mira. I’m going to try this dress on and if it looks decent, I’m going to buy it.” 

“OK fine, let me look at it one more time,” she relented, picking up the bottom of the dress and spreading it out between us, the sound of her rainbow bangles clanking against each other and filling the silence of the store. She inspected it for a good few seconds and I waited, eyebrows raised challengingly. “It’s not half bad.” I fist bumped the air at my win. 

We had been shopping for the last three hours and Mira had been absolutely merciless when it came to choosing my dress. She was adamant on making sure I looked amazing, acting like my own personal fashion designer. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the gesture, but after she had turned down the twentieth dress, merely because it was a ‘plum’ colour and not ‘magenta,’ I had become cranky. 

For the first time in baba’s career as Prime Minister, he had decided to hold a high tea in which members of the society were invited. The purpose of this event was for baba to meet people of the public and hear their concerns or feedback on the system. I admit, I was the one who had come up with the idea and I was very much surprised when baba had actually agreed to the idea. He said that it would be a great initiative that would send a message to the people of this country; a message that said we value the opinions of every individual and we take them into consideration when moving forward.

As a security measure, anyone and everyone could register to attend, however, only two hundred people would be selected at random to come. They of course, had to do background and profile checks on each member that would attend but more than that, it would be quite hard to genuinely listen to more than two hundred people’s concerns.

People will also have the chance to interact with me and even Ziad and Sarah seemed to be intent on making a good impression. That’s why Mira was being so difficult today, constantly reminding me that with a good first impression, came exquisite appearance. I had just nodded my head at her words, pretending I agreed for my own sanity. 

After I had tried on the maroon dress and did a little modelling for Mira, she had agreed with me that it looked really good. Finally content, I strode up to the counter to pay for it and once I had plopped it in front of the sales assistant, she looked like she was going to pass out. 

We watched on as she scanned the dress in and covered it with clear plastic for protection. “If I may add,” she started, and I nodded for her to continue. “This dress is the only one we got in store, as it was just a trial dress, so you can be rest assured that no one else will be wearing the same outfit as you.” She gave me a little wink and I beamed at her. 

“That’s good to know!” 

I paid the exceptionally happy worker and what seemed like an eternity later, we headed out of the store. Poor Salem and the three other guards looked like they were going to melt into the floor with boredom. Knowing that food would cheer all of us up and restore our energy levels, I headed straight for the food court. As if sensing where we were going, all four guards began to walk with renewed vigour and I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. 

Ten minutes later with kebabs in hand, we were searching for somewhere to sit in all the chaos. It was a Saturday, meaning lots of families and students were at the mall. Not feeling up to being stared at whilst I eat, I nudged Mira in the side and nodded my head to the ceiling. With a knowing smile, she nodded her head and we retreated back from where we came and after a few minutes of walking, strode into a particular hallway. 

I heard Salem exhale at our antics, but deep down, I knew he actually preferred where we were going. Making sure no one was around, we wedged open the heavy fire exit door and walked up three flights of stairs, until we came to another door. 

“I c-can’t pull this one, it’s too h-heavy,” Mira grunted, one hand grasping the door handle and the other holding her kebab. I chuckled at the hilarious sight, not even bothering to help her, before Salem stepped up and motioned for her to move aside. With an effortless pull, he threw the door open and held it in place until we moved through. We were now on the very top of the building and laid out before us like a canvas print, was our city. The first time Mira and I had discovered this place, we had fallen madly in love it and immediately began using it as our hide-away spot. The public eye wasn’t constantly on us here but even better, was the fact that we could eat like cows and no one would see. “Masha’Allah,” Mira uttered in a daze. 

I plopped down on a piece of shaped cement which we used as a makeshift chair and looked over at my friend, puzzled. When I saw her dreamily looking towards Salem, who was now standing off a few metres from us in the corner with the rest of the guards, I smacked her arm. “Hey! None of that over here please.”

She pouted sadly and came to sit next to me. She unwrapped her kebab and took a bite, before turning to me with an almost pained look. “Why does he have to be so rugged and handsome and argh, just, amazing?!” 

Mira had been harbouring a pitiful crush on Salem for almost a year now. “You know he’s like, eight years older than us?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Age is just a number. If he asked me to marry him, I would say yes in a heartbeat.” I scowled at her. “What? I would!” 

“That crush of yours, has been my personal guard since I was ten years old, so excuse me for feeling a little violated.” 

“Drama queen,” she murmured quietly.

We sat in silence for a little while after that, staring out at the moving city afore us. It was soothing in its own way, watching the cars drive away in the distance, observing how the water lapped at the shore not too far off from us and following the clouds with our eyes. 

“So,” Mira drawled, turning to look at me with a mischievous grin. “Think you’ll finally find lover boy at this function?”

I exhaled roughly. “No. I think I’m just going to take a break from men for now.”

She gave me a surprised look. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I trailed off. “It always develops into something stressful for me. I’m not going to decline nor accept anyone for a while. Take a breather, you know?” She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me an understanding nod.

“I know.”

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As this was my last semester at uni, I was done and dusted with most of my compulsory units. I was only doing two electives for this term, which meant I only had to attend uni twice a week, on Thursdays and Fridays. 

Today was Monday and that meant I got to participate in something that was very dear to me and close to heart. At the young age of eighteen I had persuaded baba to build a large education centre near our home. I never did remember my inspiration in ensuring it was built. What I do remember, is having an almost violent determination towards the project. 

For the last three years since the centre was built, I had been helping dyslexic children with their learning difficulties. Support was also offered to those with Autism and a separate learning centre had also been created for those who needed tutoring in general subjects.

Needless to say, it was one of the biggest educational centres in the country and we had employed approximately three-hundred people for the proper running of the business. It was my jewel; and I was more than happy to admit that I was proud of the accomplishment. 

My first student of the day, Dawud, bounded into the room and happily perched himself on the chair in front of me. I gave him an amused smile and he simply beamed up at me, displaying his two missing front teeth.

“What do you say Dawud?” I asked sternly, crossing my arms over my chest. The six year old glanced at me with a confused expression for a second and then his face lit up with understanding. 

“Afamawu alaikum!” I chuckled at his toothy grin and ruffled up his hair. 

“Wa alaikum asalam. Do you say it just to me?” I asked slowly.

He shook his head ‘no’ and swiftly turned his head towards Salem. “Afamawu alaikum Falem!” He got up and ran towards him, his backpack bouncing against his back. I resisted the urge to ‘aww’ out loud when Salem enveloped Dawud’s small frame in a hug. 

“How you doing lil man?” 

Dawud nodded vigorously. “Good!”  No matter how macho Salem appeared to be, I knew he was a big softie at heart. Almost like a gentle giant. 

After explaining to Dawud the procedure for the day, we got to working. We focused on his pronunciation for the most part, especially when it came to the letters he was particularly bad with. He had come a long way since I started helping him a year ago, but I knew constant and vigorous practice would have his reading and spelling to perfection in no time. It helped that his parents brought him here at a young age too, as learning difficulties only became worse if left alone. 

Before I knew it, our two hour session was up and I found myself greeting his mother, who was waiting patiently by the door. When I bid Dawud farewell, he slumped his shoulders, his backpack sagging with him and trudged towards his mother with a broken expression. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, bending down on my knees so that I was at his level. His lower lip began quivering and I instantly pulled him towards me. 

“What’s wrong Dawud?” his mother questioned him again when he didn’t respond. 

He looked up at me with watery eyes. “Miff Ahmad…didn’t bring me a lolly!”

“Aww, darling, I did bring you one, I just forgot it in my bag!” His sobs instantly ceased and he watched me with excited eyes as I walked over to my bag and pulled out a packet of skittles; his favourite. 

“YAYY!” he yelled, snatching it out of my hand. After his mum gave him a good scalding, he wrapped his little arms around me and pecked me on the cheek. “Afawamu alaikum Miff Ahmad!” he yelled again as his mother pulled him, with great difficulty, out of the room. 

I laughed and waved before heading back in to prepare for the next student. 

A gruelling six hours later, I found myself back at home. As I always do after teaching, I was preparing myself for a quick nap before dinner when a knock came at my door.

“Who is it?!” 

“Just me,” came Ziad’s voice from behind the door. I swung it open and he lazily strolled in, before launching himself head-first onto my bed. 

“Argh, can you not?” I attempted to push him off my bed, but the big lug wouldn’t even move an inch. “What do you want?” I groaned tiredly. When he just lay there, frozen, I gave up and lay down next to him. “Well I’m going to sleep, help yourself out of my room as soon as possible please.” 

He lifted his head up to glare at me and I poked him in the eyeball, just to annoy him. “OW, you toad!” He rubbed at his now watery eye and I just smiled sadistically. 

“Can you go annoy someone else now?” I yawned. “I’m super tired.” 

“Listen, I need your help,” he started, his tone serious. 

I gasped dramatically. “Oh no, what did you do?! Did you get into a gang fight?!”

“Sameena,” he groaned.

“Did you accidentally run over an animal, because there is NO way I am going to help you bury that! Wait no, did you get a second wife?! Ooh, Sarah is going to kill you!”

“Will you shut up?” he grit out, frustration coming off him in waves. 

“Alright, what do you want?” I asked, dropping the act. 

“Jeez.” He ran a hand through his hair and sat up straight. “I want to surprise Sarah and I need your help organising it.”

I raised one brow. “Surprise her? Why?” 

He suddenly looked really awkward, rubbing his neck and averting his eyes from me. “You know, I want to do something special for her. She’s been really stressed and snappy lately and I think she just needs a night off from motherhood.” 

“Aww,” I began and my brother rolled his eyes. “Like something romantic?” 

“Yes, something romantic,” he repeated. I went to squish his cheeks and he slapped my hands away. “You need to stop doing that.” 

I laughed. “So what do you need my help with?” 

“Well firstly, can you babysit Abir for Friday night?” 

“Done,” I answered, without hesitation. 

“OK, well now I need you to give me ideas.” 

I gave him a pointed look. “Come up with the ideas yourself, Ziad.” I cut him off when he tried to interject. “Don’t act like you can’t do it, I know how cheesy you are deep down. Just a word of advice, don’t take her out for dinner. Do something that’ll make her feel young and alive, not like an old bat.”  

His dark green eyes roved over my face quickly before he nodded happily. “I think I’ve got it.” 

“Good. Now get out.” 

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