CHAPTER | ONE | UMAYMA | POV

"Put that cake down!" I shouted while lunging from the sofa onto his back making us both fall on the living room floor, wrestling to see who would have that last piece of cake. Technically it should be mine since I stole it from the birthday party last night while they were all too busy smoking shisha or making conversation with every single other person there. It's a pity my brother doesn't seem to understand this fact.

"You cutting my breathing off proves you're too fat to eat!" Was his comeback and it made me look down at him. I was currently sitting on his stomach, trying to snatch that piece of deliciousness out of his hands.

Next thing I knew though was me being flung on to the floor with mom standing in the doorway looking at us through her glasses looking like she was ready to get those $1 slipper off her feet and chase us around the house with it. It was a danger zone and there wasn't even a chance for us to escape - we both looked at each other knowing if we ran, there's a high chance she would come running after us, forgetting that she has 'pain' in her legs.

"You have 3 seconds to get off the floor and upstairs in your room." She even brought up her fingers to start the countdown. There was no question to it that we had to do as we were told or else things weren't going to end pretty.

Within two seconds of the countdown I was already off the floor - cake completely forgotten and running past mom to the stairs where I knew that within a few steps, was haven.

By the time I was up the stairs I knew I should probably get more exercise considering my breath was shooting out of my lungs like a fat kid running for McDonald's. These twenty steps were just too much for me; then again mom's anger was enough to make one swim across the Atlantic Ocean.

'Just hold on we're goin-' I picked my phone up as quick as I could just to get the horrible song off. It's weird that I have this song as my ringtone when I don't even like it; must've been all the times I listened to it to make me hate it.

"Asalaamalikum Assia." I said a little out of breath but happy enough knowing that my best friend was on the other line of the phone.

"Walaikumasalaam girl! How you been? Excited for school tomorrow? Have you decided what to wear yet? Should I come pick you up?" I let her finish asking all her questions, knowing that if I interrupted she would start all over again. Been there, done that, never again.

"I'm good Alhamdulilah. Homework, diva's and annoying jocks - what's not to be excited about? It's probably going to be a last minute thing like always and its okay, we'll meet at the parking lot." I replied back.

Assia is one of my best friends since first grade and even though she knew the answer to all these questions, she decides to ask me them every year on the last day of summer break; it's like she never gets enough of hearing my voice.

"I feel you bro, but no. This is going to be our senior year and we're going to be making an entrance. Halal style." I couldn't help but laugh at her because unlike me, Assia always wanted to show off her inner fashionista but doing it the modest way.

"What do you expect me to do?" I asked, fearing the answer that she was going to hit me with.

"You're coming over to mine like right now, and we are finding an outfit for you. So, just pack your entire wardrobe habibti and get move it over here!" Rolling my eyes I cut off the line after saying bye and did as she told me to.

I wasn't exactly going to pack my entire wardrobe because that is just madness in itself, so instead I got out my duffel bag which I hadn't used since school and placed all the new clothes that I had gotten over the summer break. Shopping may not be my forte but that doesn't mean it wasn't my sisters or my moms.

The bad didn't feel as heavy as I thought it would but that wasn't the problem though. How was I going to ask mom to let me go? Well, I suppose asking her is actually my best option on this, even if I did just make her angry a couple of minutes ago.

Placing a hijab around my head and slipping on a pair of Converse I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen where I'm sure mom was. That's the thing with my mom, she can never seem to let go of her obsession with feeding us feast almost every night; something to do with the people not having enough food around the world and we should never waste any of what we have.

"Momma?" I asked whilst peeking my head through the kitchen door. She was definitely there making food like always but also on the phone speaking Farsi. Must be talking to a relative I have no idea knows me but somehow knows me since I was a baby.

"Ah yes hold on, it's Umaymah my daughter." She said and turned round to face me.

"Ma can I go over to Assia's house?" I asked - well more like pleaded but that's the way you have to ask for things round here if you ever want to going anywhere.

She looked sceptical for a moment as if I was lying to her and going to an end of summer break barbeque at the beach, which by the way was actually happening. Sighing she said yes and told me to be back before Maghrib.

I would hug her right now but being on the phone and talking to a relative I'm sure she would have made me talk to them. Closing the kitchen door I shouted my Salaam to everyone and got out of the house and came face to face with teenagers roaming the streets in shorts and dip dyed hair looking like Rainbow Dash from 'My Little Pony'.

The thought that I was the same age as these people and yet we were so different made me laugh. Meanwhile they carried on showing naked arms and legs, I looked down to see the black maxi skirt that I was wearing follow by a loose fitting chequered shirt over a plain black t-shirt. You could say that being modest was one of the things that are important to me.

These thoughts weren't important to me so I continued on my journey down the front yard of our house and to Assia's which was two streets away. It's a good thing we didn't live that far away or else you would never find me roaming the streets unless I had to go to school.

Looking up from my Converse's, the sight of Assia's street came into a view and I happily made my way to her house and pressed the doorbell. I may have been coming here for more than ten years, but the little bit of common sense I had in me always told me to knock.

"Fatty. No surprise seeing you here." The same monotone voice I've been hearing for the last two years when opening the door was once again ringing in my ears.

No wanting to be rude knowing his situation, I smiled at Assia's older brother Ibrahim and went past him to her room where I know she would be flinging around clothes to find the perfect match for the first day of school tomorrow. Funny enough, as I opened the door to her room, she was doing exactly what I thought she would be.

"Hey, it's bad enough you've got me coming here but you have to make me play hide and seek with you among fabric?" My hands were folded over my chest and the duffel bag I was carrying was on the floor by the door. Somehow I had no idea where she was.

"Coming, give me a second." She shouted from somewhere in her room.

She must have meant that she would be here in a second because next thing I saw was a bunch of hijabs flying towards me and a figure immerging from underneath the pile that was there before. The hijabs were still in my face and with a flick of my hand I got it off looking at my best friend with a look knowing that she had just done something wrong.

"Oh my Allah, I'm so sorry! I just can't decide what to wear!" The panic in her voice was evident enough that she was going out of her mind on what to wear.

"I think I can see that." I said through gritted teeth and without a word, got up and did the unexpected. I began cleaning her room. Momma would be so proud of me right now if she saw me doing this. She's been trying to get me to clean ever since I was ten - not that it doesn't work.

Assia simply stood there with her arms folded and a smirk on her face. Benefit of her being my best friend knowing that even if I was too lazy to tidy up, I still couldn't stand mess and would end up cleaning up anyway. Moral of the story, she gets a free maid every time I come over.

After a quick five minute around her room picking every single bit of clothing she had littered, I dumped myself on her now see able bed and two seconds later Assia followed thanking me on clearing things.

"You know, we still haven't found an outfit for you and we're already resting." I knew she was going to pester me about it sooner or later so sighing I got up and sat crossed legged gestured to her with my hands to where my bag was so she could plan something with my clothes.

"Whatever it is you're going to do, make sure I won't have to spend more than two minutes trying to get it on." I said teasingly and she replied back with a sarcastic laugh and throwing one of her many shoes at me. Luckily I dodged it.

There was so many new things about to happen in our last year of high school and planning what to wear on our first day didn't seem to do justice to the fact that every single person tomorrow would be coming in with make over's, new attitudes and more importantly to society - new boyfriends.

I had my goal already set out for this year but actually knowing how to achieve it was a totally different brain twister altogether. No one knew about my little train of thought during the summer and even if I told Assia everything, this was one exception.

"Alright, I think I got it." I turned to face Assia holding up an Aztec print maxi dress and black leather jacket. "Just wear a nice hijab and maybe your Vans and you'll be fine." Although dresses weren't my thing, I could see that I had a chance of rocking this outfit tomorrow.

"Thanks bae, you need any help?" I gave her a quick hug which she seemed surprised about but nevertheless hugged me back and shook her head to say no.

"I'm good. You just go home now before you annoy me." I placed a hand over my heart to show that she hurt me and mouthed 'ouch' to her. Laughing she dragged me out her house so that I could make my way back to my own house.

There was a reason we were best friends; we know exactly how to talk to each other and our memories we have together are unforgettable. Out of all the friends I had made over the years, I and this airhead was definitely the closest.

The sun seemed to shone brighter than ever as I walked home lost in my own thoughts causing me to go blind through my glasses when looking up and consequently hitting my face into a tree. I scowled at the tree and rubbed my sore forehead which was hurting to an extent to make sit down for a few moment with my face in my hands.

"Never thought I'd see you like this." As if getting hit by a tree wasn't good enough, someone had to give me a heart attack by speaking unexpectedly.

I looked up from my hands and saw someone I never thought would speak to me in a million years, let alone now. Shoaib Ali stood above me with a lit cigarette in his mouth and his infamous straight face; I hadn't seen him smile since I was 16 and now I was soon to be 18.

Standing up, I stood to face him, "What do you mean?" He may be scaring me to the inner core of Jahanam right now, but I wouldn't dare let him see this side of me. Having this boy talk to you was enough to make you shake from fear.

"Face in your hands crying over a guy." He said nothing else yet casually walked away from me leaving me with my mouth opened in shock.

By the time I had gotten over the shock of what he had just said to me, he was already out of sight. How could someone who's known me since forever think that I would have the effort of crying over a guy? I guess from his perspective though, that's exactly what it would have seemed like.

I didn't know what else to think of this and instead carried on the walk home dreading the first day of school tomorrow where I knew I would be seeing Shoaib again. Oh the joy.

***

Salaam everyone, thank you for having the patience of waiting when I would update.

Dedicated to @XxXFayfayXxX for being so excited about this ;)

Have a Good Day and May God Bless You All.