A small peek at some of the changes to come in the edited version of my other book, Chasing Pearls? New characters? Names? Scenes? Hmmm...

#SpoilerWarning for anyone who hasn't read past the Ramadan chapters in that story yet.

-------------------
With her phone in her right hand, Ahlaam typed away as best as she could. She was eager to resume talks with Ahmad. Ramadan was officially over and her father gave tentative permission for marriage conversations to resume. Ahlaam's excitement at the news got the better of her, and the moment she managed to sit down with her phone, she was already typing up a letter.

Hey, ya miss me?

Delete. Delete. Delete.

As-Salaamu 'Alaikum once again, Ahmad. Has it been  month already? I didn't notice.

Erase. Erase. Erase.

Hey, Eid Mubarak! I got you a gift, it's me!

Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.

Hey, you freakn' bum, you have no idea how much I freakn' missed you! Don't you ever freakn' do anything to jeopardize our chances together again!

"Ahlaam put your freakn' phone away," Hameeda ordered. The older girl was seated right in front of her, carefully drawing out intricate henna designs on the palm of Ahlaam's left hand.

It was the night before Eid and the girls had all gathered at Azza's house for a henna party. Hameeda was the most skilled artist of the bunch but she couldn't afford to host everyone at her place with her husband around. At Azza's house, they were free to take off their hijabs and relax, do their henna and have fun.

"Your California love can wait," Zaynab teased. She wasn't too far away, sitting on a purple bean bag chair in the corner of Azza's room. Ahlaam shot her a glare and she stuck her tongue out at her.

"What makes you so sure I was even talking to Ahmad?" Ahlaam asked as she locked her screen and set her phone down. "I do have other stuff going on in my life you know."

"Yeah, but you get this lovesick look on your face whenever you're thinking about him. It's very noticeable."

"Whatever." Ahlaam rolled her eyes. She couldn't deny it because she knew it was probably true. How often did she find herself smiling without even realizing it until she readjusted her face?

"I for one find it adorable," Hameeda said.

"It makes me wanna puke," Zaynab replied.

"Now, now Zaynab, don't be jealous. You'll find love someday, In Shaa Allah. In the meantime though, you need to say Ma Shaa Allah and be happy for our friend here before something else bad happens to her budding relationship."

"Yeah, yeah, Ma Shaa Allah," she muttered. "Anyways, Ahlaam, what's all this other exciting stuff you allegedly have going on?"

"Well my grandmother is coming to visit in two weeks, for one. It's been years since we've visited her, so that'll be nice. I was worried how the stupid travel ban and all that might affect things, but Alhamdulillah she'll be coming soon."

At that, Zaynab and the others expressed their joy for her. Before she could say more about her plans, however, Ahlaam was interrupted by Azza's mom entering the room. She came bringing a tray of green tea and Eid treats. Azza's mom, Jamilah, was the absolute best at baking. Her traditional mung bean-stuffed sweet rolls were beloved by all who tried them, but she only ever made them for Eid.

Azza retrieved the tray from her mom before the other girls jumped to swarm her. They thanked Jamilah graciously, and though her English wasn't so good, she let them know that the desserts were all made with love and delight for her guests and the holiday.

When Jamilah left and the girls sat back down, Zaynab stuffed her face with a roll and reached for another. "Now, if there's anything I would be jealous of, it's this!"

Azza, still holding the tray, smiled politely and turned to face her. "I can get you the recipe for making them if it means that much to you."

"No, not that." She chewed and swallowed the remaining half a roll. "I meant the air of Eid in a Muslim household. I mean, my mom and stepdad have acepted that I'm a Muslim now, and they're even kinda supportive of it, but being a revert in an atheist home means missing out on a lot Islamic traditions no matter what. You guys get Ramadan and Eid and all your diverse cultural...things. What do I get? A cupcake and a hastily purchased 'happy holiday' card from the store a week after my mom realizes I'm back to eating in the day time again."

The girls all looked to her with pity. Most times in their group, they didn't really see any differences between themselves. Sure there were the obvious outward things. Ahlaam was half Arab, half Desi; Hameeda was "Blackistani;" Azza and her family were part of the teeny tiny Cham community spread across the country; and Zaynab was White, but that didn't really mean anything to them. They were all sisters and best friends, plus their circle seemed to have its own unique culture for them all to adopt.

Around holidays though, it could be noted, there was a time for friends and a time for family. Heck, Hameeda and her husband had two families to visit. And now Ahlaam would be looking forward to her grandmother's visit.

All eyes were on Zaynab as she reached for a cup of tea. Azza handed it to her from the tray which now rested on a bedside table. Zaynab took a sip before sinking back into the bean bag.

"Hey though, it's cool. I didn't mean to bring the party down."

Ahlaam looked to Hameeda, then back to Zaynab. "Well, if you'd like you can spend Eid with me and my family."

"What? No, I couldn't impose so suddenly."

"You could always go to Haya's Eid picnic on Sunday then," Hameeda added, earning a glare in response.

"You know I wouldn't be caught dead at that, how dare you even suggest it?"

"What Eid picnic?" Ahlaam asked in confusion.

"Well Ahlaam, while you were off being a 'sad gorl' -as Zaynab put it,- Haya decided to plan out a nice little Eid picnic for the MSA without telling any of us. We only found out from Bushra this morning when she asked if we were coming."

"And we're not!" Zaynab crossed her arms, rolled her eyes, and blew a few strands of auburn hair from her face.

"Now who's being a 'sad gorl?'"

"I don't care. Haya and Bushra can take their stupid little picnic and shove it. I don't know what their problem is but I've just about had it with trying to be nice. They don't make the same effort, why should we?"

"Actually, Bushra was the one to extend the invitation," Azza peeped up. She pushed her black frames back up to the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, probably to boast about how well they planned an event behind our backs."

"Maybe, but we did still get invited. Which reminds me, Bushra asked how you were doing, Ahlaam. I guess she also heard that you were being a 'sad gorl.'"

Ahlaam shook her head but smiled all the same. In spite of the doubt-filled accusations from Zaynab, Ahlaam chose to believe now that perhaps Bushra was sincere in her concern and openness. They hadn't talked much -or really at all- since that day in the kitchen, but there seemed to have been at least the spark of an opportunity for understanding established. The sadness from her tragedy with Ahmad had opened the door for that, now the happiness of their reconciliation gave hope for something more.

After taking only a second to think on it, Ahlaam turned to her friend with a new proposition. "How about this then, Zaynab: if you won't spend Eid with my family, will you at least join me at the picnic?"

Now everyone turned to Ahlaam in shock. "Wait, are you seriously thinking about going?" Hameeda asked. "I was joking about that."

"I know, but I think if Bushra invited us, at least some of us should go."

The girls shared a look between themselves before Zaynab asked what they were all thinking. "Why? What's it matter if Bushra invited us? I'd expect you of all people to take that as all the more reason not to go, considering she totally took over your role in the MSA with this."

Ahlaam's phone screen lit up with an incoming message and she smiled. "Let's just say I'm really feeling second chances right now."

THE SHIMMERING SUN RAYS reflected brilliantly in the  blue, San Diego waters. The golden disc was distorted by the gentle waves of another midday breeze. Halfway through the month of October, many of the locals felt they could already discern what sort of winter they would have come December. So far, the weather was perfect; clear skies, mild heat at the highest, and cooling winds on the regular.

Ahmad had chosen to enjoy the peaceful weekend afternoon catching up on the one thing he'd been slacking on since Ramadan. With Faraz accompanying him, he visited the community gym room of Rose-Wood Villas, an amenity he'd only just discovered. When the two arrived, they found themselves being the only guests of the day. Still, the facilities were open, and without many people around or any distracting music playing, it was the perfect opportunity for them to take advantage of.

"I really gotta get in shape, man," Ahmad croaked as he went through a few stretches.

"You're already in shape, dude," Faraz shot back. Dressed in loose sweatpants and plain t-shirts, the two stood before the one flat bench in the small room. There wasn't much space between the four white walls, and what room there was had been mostly filled with various exercise machines and weight racks.

Ahmad looked across the room to a mirror after he finished stretching. "I wanna be in better shape now, overall." He began loading the metal plates onto the lifting bar.

"Oh yeah, I get it, man." Faraz smirked as he moved to spot him, "You gotta look good for your wife-to-be, right? Or is this about that neighbor of yours?"

"Ronny?" Ahmad sat on the bench and lay back to grab the bar. "I'm pretty sure I could handle that chump if I never worked out another day in my life. He talks like he's big and bad but it's all for show."

"Yeah but that's their whole brand, bro."

"One minute in the gym and you're already saying 'bro;' should I be concerned?"

"Shut up and start lifting, man."

Ahmad exhaled before beginning his workout. "You know... you're not far off with that branding thing though... I did some digging into this Rose bunch online... They've been involved in... a lot of messes."

"Well what did you expect? Their last name is Rose but if you ask me, they're nothing but a bunch of pricks."

"You proud of that pun, Faraz?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Well you shouldn't be... Just because you... look like Hasan Minhaj... doesn't mean you're... funny like him."

"I swear, if I hear that one more time!" Faraz rubbed his temples and let out a frustrated sigh. "You don't know how many people have told me 'Hey you look like a skinny Hasan Minhaj.' It's not even funny anymore!"

"Isn't Hasan Minhaj already skinny?"

"Yes, and we look nothing alike. He keeps his beard trimmed low, I let mine grow. My hair is shorter than his, and I'm taller than him!"

"Which is probably what makes you look like the skinny, discount version of him." Ahmad laughed as he set the bar back into place and sat up. The two of them switched places and Faraz began lifting the weights.

"Did I tell you... what my idiot brother said... when I told him I was... dropping out of law school to pursue... my true passion?"

"No, what?" Ahmad stood by, ready to lift the bar up from his struggling friend. Faraz was already going red in the face.

"He asked if I was... finally ready to... accept my fate... and play basketball."

"Ha! Now HE should be a comedian. Faraz Abdullah on a basketball court has got to be the funniest picture I've ever imagined."

"Har...har..." Faraz completed his tenth rep before setting the bar into place with a rather ungraceful clank. He sat up, huffing a little and rubbed his wrist. "Didn't you have something to say about your jerk of a neighbor?"

Ahmad's next round was silent as he paced himself quietly through double what Faraz had done. At the end of it all he lay back with the bar in its holds and he reached for the phone in his pocket. There, he had a few notes on the two main Rose men he'd interacted with as of yet.

"Ron 'The Don' Rose, or more commonly these days, Ron 'The Con' Rose is San Diego's most repugnant celebully. I got dragged down a rabbit hole reading controversies about this bozo."

"Didn't he get his start on some news channel?" Faraz folded his arms and looked towards the exit.

"Yeah, until controversy number thirty-two; he got exposed as a fraud claiming to have served in the military. His so-called experience came from exaggerated tales his great uncle --who actually was a veteran-- told him, and a mix of his own racist lies, trying to spice things up for the new generation."

"Wow, what a mook. But then, how does he even have fans? Don't all those right-wing dingbats swear by the military? How'd they let him off the hook for stolen valor?"

"Oh it gets worse than that. The Rose family is originally from Florida, but Ronald and Ron Jr moved out to California fifteen years ago, right after his ex-wife died under some very suspicious circumstances. He brought with him his new girlfriend Deidre Wood and their not-so-secret three-year-old love-child, Matthew Rose-Wood."

"And this is the guy who preaches purity and so-called family values? What a joke."

Ahmad sat up from below the bar and stretched his arms. "The real joke is his beef with Muslims and people of color. Every negative thing he says about anyone always seems to be true of himself. He accuses people of sowing hatred and spreading violence, then promotes it proudly on his radio show. Talks about the loss of morals in society, then goes and gets mixed up in scam after scam, shady dealings and even corruption in some local politics. This guy's a mess and his son's no better."

"What's Junior done?"

"Mostly just co-sign on his dad's crazy antics, but when he's not getting into internet beefs with random people over that nonsense, he seems to have a habit of getting into trouble all on his own. He's got more than a few DUIs, a record for public drunkenness and other misdemeanors, street racing, and just a lot of your typical, selfish, self-absorbed scumbag behaviors."

"Hm, well you sure picked some lovely neighbors for yourself, didn't you, dude?"

"Well, I haven't found anything yet on the youngest son. Maybe he's a good egg." Ahmad shook his head and stood up from the bench. He walked around back as Faraz got into place for another few reps. "At least their aunt has been decent to me so far."

"That much is surprising, but I wouldn't read too much into it. She may have helped you with the little noise dispute, but I think if it came down to any real conflict, family always sticks with family. Especially a family like this one."

Faraz gripped the bar and Ahmad helped him lift it up with one hand. As Faraz continued his workout, Ahmad was just about to put his phone away when it began to vibrate in his hand. He almost hit the 'ignore' button before he realized whose name was coming up on the screen.

His face lit up with a smile seeing a message alert from Ahlaam. They'd been talking for hours a day in the past week alone. They'd even had a 'virtual date' in which they watched an episode of Dirilis: Ertugrul online together and talked about it. This go around, things were moving a lot smoother.

Ahmad opened up the message and after reading it over, he typed out a quick reply. Faraz, meanwhile, began his struggle with the weights again. His muscles ached and his face was like a steamed tomato, but Ahmad hardly even noticed. His own mind was far removed from the room, his heart soaring through the clouds as he wandered off while texting away.

Ahmad's back and forth with Ahlaam was interrupted only by Faraz's desperate request for assistance after a few minutes. Ahmad didn't even hear him at first until it was too late. Faraz gave a shout and as Ahmad turned around, nearly dropping his phone, there was a heavy crash heard throughout the room. Faraz had dropped the weights lopsided into place, tipping the bench and inevitably himself over onto the ground. Ahmad rushed over to his friend's aid.

"You okay, man?" He rolled the weights aside and grabbed hold of Faraz. "Come on, up, up, up. You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Faraz groaned. He got to his feet and rubbed his left shoulder. "I almost died but hey, at least you got your messages out."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ahlaam was texting me and I thought you had it no sweat, my bad."

Faraz exhaled heavily as he stepped aside to stand the bench back up. Ahmad took the weights off the bar and put everything else back into place. Faraz took a few gulps from the energy drink he'd brought along before shaking his head and flashing a smile at Ahmad to let him know he was okay.

"So what'd your wifey say that was clearly more important than my life?"

"What? Come on, dude, it's not even like that."

"Hey, I don't blame you. Your love is strong, but alas my guns are not."

Ahmad chuckled. The only real injury Faraz had suffered was to his pride, and in his typical fashion, he turned it into a joke. Ahmad was free to share his good news then.

"Well, she wasn't really saying much, just answering a few questions I had asked. But I am waiting on a reply from her dad about something."

"And that would be?"

Ahmad grinned. "I prayed salat al-istikhara and I think I'm just about ready to ask for Ahlaam's hand now."

"Ah, Ma Shaa Allah!" Faraz patted Ahmad on the back before grabbing his own shoulder with a grimace. "When's the wedding gonna be?"

"I said I'm ready to ask, I haven't officially done it yet. My plan is to surprise her."

"And how exactly will you do that?"

"By showing up at her doorstep with a rose and some poetry, of course."

"Wow, Mr. Romantic here, are you serious, bro?"

Ahmad shook his head. "Maybe not all of that, but I do plan to drive up to Oregan and ask in person. She has her grandmother in town for the next two weeks, she said, and I want to stop in to ask with her family and my family present. I asked for her dad's permission and he's on board with it, we're just planning out when would be the best day."

Faraz clapped his hands in applause. "Bravo. You really turned this all around. And hey, I was right, that actually is pretty romantic."

"And you're surprised by this?" Ahmad folded his arms. He was about to detail just how much of a true romantic he was at heart when a third voice interjected.

"Excuse me!" Ahmad and Faraz whipped their heads around towards the door where there stood an angry redhead with fire in her eyes. Hands on her hips, the woman fixed her mouth to scold them like a pair of ill-behaved children. "You two are NOT supposed to be in here. This gym room is for residents ONLY."

"I am a resident," Ahmad replied, uncrossing his arms. He kept his place as she approached.

"You don't look like any resident I've seen before." The words shot from her mouth like a volley of arrows, her voice was shrill and condescending. "Who are you?"

"I live in unit C3, last name Abdul-Aziz. And might I ask who you are?

"You live in C3?" She stopped right in front of the two. Her hands remained on her hips as she inspected them up closer.

"Or was it C-3PO, who knows?" Ahmad joked. Seeing that his interrogator was unamused, he explained further. "I'm new, I live right beneath the maintenance ma-"

"I know where unit C3 is, I can verify that." Ahmad stood uncomfortably, not sure what else needed to be said. The woman did not let up on her attempts to intimidate him, however. Instead, she folded her arms, pursed her paper-thin lips, and gave an arrogant snort. "In any case, I hate to break up your little party, but you're not allowed to bring guests in here, Mr. Abdul."

"Says who?" Faraz questioned. He stood slightly behind Ahmad, but stared the woman down with the same uppity attitude that she gave them.

"Says me, the owner of this place."

"Okay, but the sign outside says I can," Ahmad pointed out. He kept his cool as he gestured towards the open door where the gym policies were all listed on a white placard.

"That sign is irrelevant right now," she huffed. "I've gotten complaints about the excessive noise levels coming from here, so you and your guest need to leave, NOW."

"Excessive noise levels?" Ahmad looked to Faraz, both bewildered by the accusation. Aside from Faraz's fall a few short moments ago, there was no way they had been making enough noise to warrant any kind of complaints. In fact, they hadn't even been in the gym long enough for such a complaint to be reported at all. "You received complaints?"

"Yes, several residents complained about two unknown young men messing around with the gym equipment. Too much horseplay. You can do that somewhere else, but here, we don't tolerate our equipment being mistreated and I doubt you can afford to replace it all."

"Hold on, are you serious?" Faraz stepped forward, now personally offended by the rude and wrinkly woman. Immediately, she took a step back, unfolding her arms but keeping them raised. "We-"

"We'll go ahead and leave now," Ahmad said, cutting him off and holding him back. His eyes had caught sight of what Faraz failed to notice. The slight curve of a restrained smirk was masked behind the bitter scowl on her face; her hands shook, but not from fear. Keeping himself between his friend and unnecessary trouble, Ahmad moved to make an exit.

"Good, and please keep the rules in mind next time to avoid further incidents. This is your only warning."

Ahmad said nothing back as he all but pushed Faraz out of the room. They headed back to his apartment as the woman stepped outside to lock up the door. The fun was over.

"Dude, what gives?" Faraz questioned Ahmad. They hadn't reached his doorstep before Faraz's anger boiled over. "You want to tell me why you gave up so easily when we didn't even do anything wrong?"

"Yeah, because I'm not trying to end up as the next trending hashtag in a march for justice. That bitter bag of bad attitude was Deidre Rose-Wood. If she wasn't reaching for a gun herself, then for sure she was reaching to dial nine-one-one. All it would take is one quick lie about us trespassing or something, then the good ol' boys in blue show up, fear for their lives, and instead of an impending wedding, there'd be talks about a janazah."

"You think she had a gun?" Faraz inspected Ahmad's face. His demeanor was completely serious.

Ahmad gave no reply, however. The less he said right now, the better. And aside from that, he had other concerns to occupy his thoughts. Another buzz from his pocket brought him right back into the world of texting where a different, recently resolved conflict had given way to opportunities he couldn't afford to miss out on. Like he'd said, he had a possible wedding to think about now.