Chapter Two from Four Coloured Girls

AMINATAH HASSAN

"Aminatah!" I heard my best friend Safira yell. We were walking to the bookstore, our arms intertwined together and I'd completely dazed off. Thinking about her. Ironic right? I'm ignoring her by thinking about her.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" She asked. Her big brown eyes staring back at me. I drank in the sight of her sun kissed skin and reveled in the thought of how I knew how she looked like without all her coverings. She had hair as dark as night that was thick and luscious. Her skin was also sprinkled in freckles all over her face and some on her chest.

"You're beautiful you know that." I told her. I always complemented Safira but she never really thought much of it. She must've just thought I was being nice but I wasn't, I was sharing my thoughts with the girl I was inlove with.

"You're so sweet Ami," she sings as we walk into the bookstore.

The bookstore three blocks from our school is our favourite thing in the world. I think that's why I fell in love with Safira to begin with, our shared loved of books and literature.

We are welcomed by the scent of old and new books alike. The old man behind the counter, Henry, smiles at us as we walk in. To say that we were regulars here was an understatement, we practically lived here. We've been coming here four days out the week for the past six months now.

My family and I moved here from Guinea not so long ago and Safira and I have been joined at the hip since we met in this very bookstore. I was new to the town and I needed to find the perfect book to read before school started. She was rummaging through the pile of old books Henry loves to leave out on a wooden table by the window. I was mesmerised by the glee that radiated off her as she furrowed her eyebrows, reading the back of the books and inspecting them.

I'd spent a good two minutes gawking at her like the socially awkward girl I am. Even with, no, especially with her hair covered I found her extremely beautiful. I knew then that I was doomed, I'd met the girl that could possibly undo me and unravel the carefully hidden secret I held.

She looked up to see me staring at her and I felt the ribbons loosen around my perfectly wrapped secret and now I knew for sure I was in trouble. Nobody should ever be allowed to hold such a deadly weapon. No girl should hold the power to start wars, ignite fires and conjure up feelings in me I wasn't ready for with just one smile. I was at disadvantage. She had me. And I'd let her continue to have me if it meant seeing that smile all the time and soaking up all that happiness pouring out of her.

That day we introduced each other and the rest is history.

"I'm feeling a bit of historical fiction today," she told me.

"Want to re-read Hamlet?" I asked her.

"Nah, i'm feeling Jane Austen today." She admitted as she rummaged through the messy pile of books on the table. Some of these books looked like they'd seen both world wars and been to hell and back from the condition they were in. I loved them this way, old and worn out. The book itself held a story that wasn't written in it and I loved that.

After a few minutes of I saw Safira's eyes light up. She'd found her book and I was yet to find mine. I continued surfing through the pile and eventually a particular book named Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe sparked my interest and we went to purchase our books.

Henry inspected the books with his glasses halfway down his nose before packaging them for us.

"Good choice." He said, nodding his head.

"Thank you Henry." Safira said as she took the plastics from him.

We quickly made our way out and started walking home. Our homes were only 6 blocks away so it wasn't much of a long walk. Safira lived two doors down from my home, which was convinient since I wanted to spend every possible moment with her. She was a stone's throw away and I liked it.

We were just outside the bookstore when we saw a group of boys walking towards us. Now, I usually don't judge a book by its cover but the tons of tattoos on their skin made me a little bit uneasy. They were also very loud. I felt myself instinctively hold Safira closer to me. People often didn't take kindly to Safira because she wore a hijab. Whenever we ran into a brainless racist twat, Safira would get called a terrorist, a murderer, and I quote a brown-skinned-bitch-that should-go-back-to-wherever-the hell-she-came-from. Sometimes we'd have people refuse to serve her because to some people muslim equals terrorist. Safira would shrug it off like it was nothing, I on the other hand didn't have the same sentiment. I often get loud and try to defend Safira but she hated it when I did that so I now bit my tongue and said nothing.

We walked past the group of boys without a hick-up and I let out a relieved sigh.

"You need to stop being so uptight Ami. You're starting to get aging lines right here," she pressed her slim finger on my face.

"Shut up Safira! You know why I'm like this." I told her.

"I know." She said quietly. Shit! I just made things tense.

"Wanna go get some ice cream?" I questioned.

"Sure, why not." She answered and we walked over to an ice cream palor on our way home.

The ice cream palor was small and cozy. They had bright coloured seats and some cone shaped seats for the higher tables by the window. There was hardly anyone there with the exception of and couple sitting rather closely to each other by the corner and a mother buying what seemed to be her six year old son some ice cream.

"You sit, I'll go order for us." I told her before heading to the counter. I didn't bother asking her what she wanted, I already knew.

"Hello miss, welcome to Milkylane what will you be having today?" A cute boy from behind the counter said to me. His curly black hair was peaking from the sides of this white cap with the words Milkylane written in pink.

"I'll have one chocolate mousse sundae and a large cup of plain vanilla ice cream please." He smiled back at me and I noticed he had dimples.

"That will be eight dollars and fifty cents."

I reached into my wallet and gave him a ten dollar note.

"Keep the change." I told him.

"Your order will be up in about fifteen minutes, you're having it here right?" He asked and I nodded.

"Thanks for the tip," he said as he handed me the receipt.

"No problem." I said before walking off to join Safira.

"Were you flirting with that cute boy by the counter?" Safira's questioning eyes looked back at me as she asked me this.

"What? You jealous? You know you're my one and only." I told her.

"I wouldn't object to him being your side piece though. He's very pretty." She teased. Oh Safira Abdullah you're treading on rocky waters. If only you knew.

"I only have eyes for you Safi," I said locking eyes with her.

"You flirt!" She said before chuckled. That was another thing about Safira, our innocent rapports seemed to have the slight under tone of seriousness. Her little teases where flaming the torch that I held for her. I don't know if she knows that she's doing just that or she thinks we are just two friends being funny.

"I wasn't flirting with him though, he's not my type." I told her.

"And what's your type?" She questioned. She leaned in against her chair, settling in to a much more comfortable position.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" I teased.

"C'mon, you have to tell me. In all the time I've known you you haven't had a boyfriend or talked about crushing on someone. Spill." She prompted me.

"Well-"

"Here's your order." The cute guy from the counter interupted.

"That was quick." I said blandly.

"Well, there's not so many people so. . ." He trailed off. His hand was rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck as he held the round tray in his hand.

"Thank you." I said. It was more of a dismissal than an appreciation for his services.

"Mmm," I heard Safira moan as she savoured the taste of vanilla ice cream in her mouth.

"Don't you ever get bored of eating vanilla all the time? It's so plain." I said.

"It's amazing is what it is." She said before shoving another spoonful into her mouth.

"You're so weird." I stated.

"So are you." She retorted.

We discussed the physics homework Mr Greyson had assigned as we ate. Well, honestly, we just complained about how hard and too much work it was for us. Safira and I were juniors who both took AP classes so our workload was a bit heavy. Eventually we drifted off to conversations about how some movies based off of books are never done right. By the time we'd both finished our ice cream the sun was beginning to come down.

I already knew my parents would be mad at me for having stayed this late. They never liked it when I stayed out till it was dark so Safira and I were pretty much speedwalking our way home. We were almost there when I was startled by a cold and rather large hand wrapping around my wrists turning me around completely.

"Well what do we have here?" A middle aged man said as he stared at me through glassy eyes.

"Looks like we have ourselves a couple of niggers!" Another chirped from behind me. I turned to see him gripping Safira's arm.

"This one is one of them muslim motherfuckers. It's a two for one special with this one," he said as he turned Safira around to face us. His large hands were wound tightly around her arms and she was shaking in fear.

"What are we going to do with you two?" The one holding me said as I struggled to get out of his death grip.

"I think we ought'a have ourselves a show." He said, his breath was hot against the nape of my neck and I felt my stomach churn in disgust. His hot breath was soon replaced with the coldness of metal pressing against my skin. He must have had a knife on me I concluded since his friend was doing just that to Safira.

His friend started cutting through Safira's hijab and my heart broke as her whimpers filled the air. Tears were now streaming down her face and finally, after much effort, the remaining material fell to the ground.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing! Such a waste to have to hide it. Let me see more of her Wade." He edged on his friend and involuntarily I tried to move and stop him.

The anger was burning off my body at this point and I didn't care if this wild thing, I won't even give him the title of human because he doesn't deserve it, stabbed me a hundred times. As long as I stopped him from doing whatever it is he was trying to do, a few cuts meant nothing to me.

"You dogs don't know how to fucking take instructions do you?" He spat. "You try that thing again and I will slit your throat."

I felt the cold metal move across my throat and settle itself right under my chin. His hand was now wound across my chest and he held the knife deeper this time. I guess to keep me from trying to move again.

"Go on then, let's see more of her." He commanded.

His friend did as he was instructed, the started tearing Safira's dress from the front. Thank God for all the layers Safira wore because even if he did get her dress off, that was only the first layer. He'd have to cut through her thick cotton vest aswell and that would buy us some time. Time for someone to walk by and save us from these animals.

He was cutting furiously through the dress when we heard heavy footsteps approach. Whoever they were, I hoped they'd help instead of join in.

As they came closer, one of them pointed their flashlight towards us and that's when both Safira and started screaming for help. And of course those two cowards ran away.

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