Chapter 19

"Salma, where are you?" I said as soon as I picked up the phone.

There was silence. Just a long, aching silence. And then finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard a small whimper, and shuffling, as if the phone had been dropped. A weary sigh filled my ear.

"I just called," Salma sounded faraway, "to tell you I'm not coming home. So stop looking for me."

"Salma, why are you doing this?" 

There was no answer, and I was almost afraid that she had hung up. But before I could speak again, to beg perhaps, she groaned. It was a low, defeated sound.

"What do you mean why?" She whispered. "I can't live like this anymore."

"And me?" I asked, bitterly. "I'm dealing with the same shit you are."

I wanted to be angry. I had forgotten in that moment, that Ian was beside me. I stopped the car on the side of the road and gripped my phone, with a desperation that scared me. What did it mean, if she was going away, giving up? Where would that leave me? Would I break one day, too?

And there was more.

"What about mom?" I said, desperately.

"It's because of mom I tired to hang on." Salma cried. "But no more. I can't stand it. I want to go away from all this."

"But you can't just leave us."

"I'm sorry." Salma said. "I'm already out of the city. Don't look for me. Goodbye, Abdullah."

The line went dead and I stared open mouthed out the window, my phone uselessly pressed to my ear. I slumped into my seat, all the last flickers of hope leaving my body. What was I to do now? It was then when I realized that Ian was still besides me, his face contorted with shock and worry.

I wondered, for about the fiftieth time, just what the hell this small, golden haired kid was doing here. This whole mess was mine.

"I didn't even know she had a boyfriend." He whispered. "And what a jerk he turned out to be."

I didn't answer, and instead, stared out at the street, at the flashing cars that whizzed by, blurred behind my tears. I turned my face away. My mother was waiting at home, waiting for me to bring back Salma. 

And I would return without her.

"She didn't seem to be into those types of guys, you know." Ian went on and I was barely listening.

"I'm so stupid." He laughed to himself.

I thought of my mother, of her hunched over form in front of our door, waiting. Her hopeful eyes when I would return home, her grief stricken face when she realized I was alone.

"Why would she care about me?" Ian said, voice shrinking.

I slowly looked at him, confused.

"Why would I think that she would give me a second look?" He almost whispered. Ashamed.  

Heartbroken.

I blinked. 

Oh, it made sense now.

- -

The next few days passed by in a blurry haze. My mother stayed at home, unable to find the will to go to work. The police stopped by a few times, asking questions, looking into details. I supplied all the information I could, pleading them to track my sister down. They left with no promises, just assuring us that they would do all they could. I constantly jumped every time my phone beeped, hoping it was Salma.

My mother was heartbroken. She sat pressed against the living room window all day and cried in prayer all night. I was lost, unable to console her or myself.

I hadn't been to school in a week. Frankly, I was starting to see no point in school. My father was as good as dead. My sister was gone. My mom was breaking. And me, going to school? What was the point. I approached my mother one evening, sitting down besides her. She sat still on a prayer mat in her dark bedroom, hands cupped upwards. It was times like this that made me think I should make dua, too.

But, I could still not pray; I could still not beg. 

Maybe, I had no faith left in me.

"Mum," I called her softly. She stirred, blinking open eyelashes that were wet with tears. "Mum, I think I should find work."

"No." She mumbled, shaking her head, "I'm going to go back."

"It's not that." I sighed. "I don't see any benefit in school. I should focus on finding a job."

"You should focus," she said, "on building a career. Jobs are nothing. Do you want to live on minimum wage for the rest of your life?"

"But how can I just go to school while you slave away?" I said, exasperated. "And alone, too. Dad's not here..."

"My whole life is yours, Abdullah." My mother said, meeting my eyes. "My tears, my sweat, is for you. I came to this country to give you an education, a life. Don't waste our work for small, odd jobs."

I held her eyes for what seemed like an eternity and suddenly I could not bring myself to protest. How could I just deem her effort worthless? I still could not see any point in school, however much my mother insisted I continue. But I wouldn't voice it, now.

"Abdullah." My mother whispered, perhaps seeing through me. "I know you think it's pointless, going to school, with everything that's happening. But after a few years, when you have a degree and a stable job that pays well, you will thank me."

"How?" I croaked, giving in. "You'll work yourself to death before then. I don't want to lose you, too, mama."

My mother, my beautiful, strong, patient, mother only laughed at that.

"My love," She cooed. "I will die only after seeing you successful. InShaAllah."

I closed my eyes, feeling the burning itch of tears beginning to form.

"InShaAllah."

- -

And after all that. After my sister running away and watching my mother cry day after day, after all of that: I found myself once again standing in front of my school. The damn building never looked so morbid and smug. I considered not going inside. I considered turning on my heel and going back home, but to what. My mom had resumed her jobs. My sister was gone. My dad was oblivious.

There was nothing to go back to.

When I walked in my first class, everything made me think of Salma. Her lateness to class, the carefree air she wore like a damn cape. Her fingers always dancing across her phone screen, art homework barely touched in front of her. I walked by her desk, stiffly. I was early, and there was hardly anyone in the classroom. I sat down and stared across at Salma's desk. I willed myself to believe that she would walk in, at any moment.

But she was never an early bird, to begin with.

Ten, fifteen minutes passed by and Nadia walked in.

When her eyes landed on mine, she stopped mid step. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in question. Her gaze swept over the classroom, searchingly, before landing back on me. I saw the whole conversation written on her face, all the questions, all the words that she held on her tongue. I sagged, and shook my head ever so slightly. Her shoulders slumped, and her face closed.

She continued to her desk and sat down heavily. She didn't look back at me, for the whole class. Just stared straight ahead, unblinking.

I didn't even mind. What else was there to say?

The day dragged on, painfully. It was as if it didn't want to end. Each class took something out of me and my mind was never on the same page as the teacher. I found myself sidetracked, lost in between thinking about dropping school to support my mother and finding my sister. I couldn't do everything at once. What was the point of these classes anyway. It wasn't as if I was going to become an engineer or doctor. Not with my sister missing and my dad dying and my mom working herself to death.

As my last class came to an end, I itched to get out of the school. The bell finally rang and I raced to my locker. Surprisingly, Nadia was standing in front of it, waiting. When she saw me she gave me a small wave. I walked up to her, wondering.

"Hey, Abdullah." She said, meeting my eyes. "I just wanted to say sorry about this morning."

"What happened this morning?" I asked, confused.

"I mean that," She sighed. "I acted so distant as if I didn't care. I do."

"Oh, that." I said. "I didn't take it that way."

"I was just so." She paused. "Hopeful. That she was back. When I saw you I thought...and then she wasn't here. And so...I just..."

"You don't have to explain."

She let out a breath. "You're right. You would know. I mean, obviously."

"Yeah."

"Will she ever come back?" She asked, voice small.

"I don't know."

"I wish I could have..." She said. "I mean, I was so caught up in my own life, I didn't even think about her."

I stood there, listening. I stared at my locker, thinking about going home. Before, I would have given anything for Nadia to talk to me. She could have read me the dictionary and I would have held onto every word. But I couldn't bear to hear anymore from her today. I could almost feel the heaviness of her guilt.

"It's not your fault." I murmured. "If anything, it's mine."

"No." She stared. "How would you have known? I kept it from you. Her boyfriend, I mean."

I gritted my teeth at the mention of her boyfriend. If I was allowed to punch someone's teeth into their guts, I would have started with him. Everytime I remembered his words, my hands would curl into fists. How could he just use my sister and then throw her away like trash.

"I-I'm sorry about that, by the way." Nadia said, looking at my fists.

I relaxed my hands, realizing that she thought I was mad at her. I threw my books into my locker and grabbed my hoodie.

"It's alright."

"It's not." She shook her head. "I've been so selfish, I wish I could have..."

She trailed off and I glanced at her. She was looking over my shoulder and I followed her gaze to see Ian, who had also just spotted us. He raised a hand in greeting, meeting my eyes. His confession suddenly popped into my head, and I nodded in response.

It was weird to think about Ian crushing on my sister. He was the little brother type, like a kind of floppy eared puppy, with a goofy smile. I thought back to the day it rained and we both stood soaked on my doorstep. Salma had answered the door that day, and Ian had been red in the face. I had thought it had been embarrassment.

She probably hates me! He had said, covering his face.

He had been downright distraught when Salma had reacted negatively to his suggestion to be proud of her hijab. At the time, I had found it almost amusing to think he would care so much about what my sister thought. And how could I forget how cheerful he had been when he was hospitalized. It was when Salma had stopped by to pay him a visit. 

I regarded him, and he approached slowly, giving Nadia a small smile. I suddenly couldn't see him the same as before. This one thing seemed to change everything.

"Hey, Ian!" Nadia said, energetically. "You're back! How are you doing?"

It almost made me cringe, how she was talking to him like he was a little kid with a learning disability. This kid had been crushing on my sister probably as long as I'd known him. To me, he was no longer that innocent, puppy eyed kid I'd mistaken him for the day we met. Who knew, maybe he'd only befriended me to get close to Salma. I turned to my locker as Ian stammered out a reply.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Nadia pause. She looked between me and Ian, and laughed nervously.

"So, see you two around?" She said, "I, uh, have to get home."

"Yeah, sure." Ian said. "Bye."

I nodded, regretting the awkwardness. I hadn't meant to turn my back on either of them, but for the moment I wanted to just....think. And not even about Nadia, surprisingly. Things had changed.

As Nadia walked away, Ian spoke up.

"Listen, Abdullah." He sighed. "I don't want to make things weird between us."

"Oh, of course." I laughed, dryly. "How can things be weird. You like my sister. No biggie."

"I just.." He bit his lip. "Can you forget that I said that?"

I looked at him hard and he sighed.

"Okay, got it." He said.

I rolled my eyes, and slammed my locker shut, causing him to wince. I suddenly, desperately wanted to know something.

"How long have you liked her?" I spat out, the words bitter on my tongue.

"Since the start of term." He said, eyes wide.

"So when we met, you already knew who I was, didnt you?" I narrowed my eyes.

"What?" He said, eyebrows drawing together. "No! Wait, do you think that's why...no, no, no."

I side eyed him, and he threw up his hands.

"Don't think of me like that, Abdullah." His voice was shrill. "I didn't know who you were when we met. I only saw you around Salma. And you guys look alike, so I made the connection."

I huffed. "Whatever."

"Also, I just wanted to...apologize."

"For what?"

"For being rude at the hospital." He said, voice small. "I guess it wasn't your fault if I got my butt kicked."

I hissed in a breath, the guilt rushing back to me.

"Shouldn't I be the one apologizing?" I said, looking away. "I'm sorry about what I said. I was out of line."

"Oh." Ian mumbled. "It's okay."

"You were almost killed." I pursed my lips. "It's not okay."

"But I wasn't." He half smiled. "So it is okay."

A battled of emotions raged inside me. Guilt for lashing out at Ian and making him fight bastards twice his size, almost getting himself killed because of me and dismay at him for liking my sister. I didn't like not knowing.

Ian's smile suddenly wavered.

"There is this one thing I have to tell you, though."

"Go on..."

Ian was suddenly nervous, and not meeting my eyes. I considered him wearily before he reluctantly let out a small puff of air.

"The guys who...harassed me that day." He said, and my ears perked at their mention. Suddenly, I was on edge. "They're not just after me. They were saying they would come for you too."

"What?" I asked. "Why?"

"Cody." Ian answered. "He'd decided he wants to get back at us."

"That's shit." I sneered. "It was his fault he got expelled."

"I agree." Ian said. "But...what do we do?"

I sighed, leaning back on my heels. God, if only I knew.

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so idk about this chapter oh m y g o d it was so irritating to write. like does it even make sense? tell me!!!! Thanks for reading, loves!!