I was both relieved and anxious to walk into homeroom at the end of the day. I was relieved that the day was over and I could get to the more exciting part of my day and anxious that I would ask Valentino outright to hang out with me again. Like a date...which it totally isn't because that'd be haram, and I'm trying not to be about that life.

I was pretending to fix up the contents of my locker until I found it in myself to walk up to Valentino. He was sitting at our desk, his gaze moving from Clara's face to the desk's screen as she spoke to him.

"Hi, Inaya," Clara said as I neared them. Clara smiled sweetly at me, too. She wore a white and pink T-shirt that paired well with her pastel green skirt, which sat just above her knees.

I gave her a brief smile but became overly conscious of my outfit: A bishop-sleeve mauve blouse and loose-fitted black pants over a matching black hijab. I looked like a block compared to her curves. I glanced at my desk's screen as a distraction. At the top was a banner notifying the winning prom theme.

Valentino turned to me and leaned back in his seat. My eyes guiltily roamed his face, searching for the Asian he'd spoken about yesterday. What did that even look like? Did he mean East Asian? Or South Asian? I should've asked.

"Yup, looks like," he said.

"Poor Ameena. Salah's ingenious plan won, after all." Valentino chuckled with me. Since she was still here, I turned to look at Clara. "You're going to prom, right? Any idea on what to wear with this theme?"

"I don't know yet." Her face flushed a little. She glanced at Valentino and added, "Hope it's nothing serious with Mrs. Asaka. I'll see you tomorrow."

I narrowed her eyes, not knowing what they were talking about.

"Yeah. See ya."

When Clara had turned her back, I quickly segued the conversation. I subconsciously leaned closer to him as I asked, "So, are you gonna play CrusadEon Online today?"

"Yeah." He looked away. "Do you wanna watch at the library?"

I shrugged, remembering to convey nonchalance. "I could."

"Won't your parents say something?"

"Not today. My dad is picking me up from work. I have an hour to spare."

"Cool." I noticed his slight hesitation before he spoke again. "But Mrs. Asaka said I have to see her about my lab report before I go," he said. "I'll meet you outside?"

"Sure." I slid off my seat, hand on my bookbag's shoulder strap. I met his gaze and held it. "Don't make me wait too long," I said. "I don't want to melt out there."

Valentino broke his casual demeanor, and he smirked. "Gotcha."

I turned my back to him and retrieved my phone from my pocket to text Salah and Ameena that they should go home without seeing me. I then made my way out of the school and scanned the front of the building for a spot to wait for Valentino from atop the stairs.

Unfortunately, there were no clouds or shade to protect me from the scorching sun. With a sigh, I decided to sit at the base of the stairs since it was the only spot that wouldn't mean standing for ten minutes.

I was scrolling through my phone absent-mindedly when a shadow fell over me. I didn't have to look up to know it wasn't Valentino—I could just feel their presence.

"You should stay away from Valentino," Elsa said. Her voice was low and smooth, the perfect combination of the calm before the storm.

"That's right," Jamie echoed. Warning thunder.

I struggled not to have my heart leap out of my throat in pure fear as I turned to meet Elsa and Jamie's fierce gazes. I could barely hear them over the blood rushing in my ears.

"What?"

"You heard her," Jamie sneered, folding her arms in front of her chest. "He's Clara's. Got it?"

I narrowed her eyes at their menacing glares. "Valentino is his own person. He can choose whoever he wants—"

"And you think he'll choose you?" Elsa interrupted with a snort. Jamie giggled.

I tensed, gripping my phone. My heart was retreating, but I still didn't know what to say.

"Whatever, Inaya," Elsa added coldly, flicking her hand. "You know you're the only one being selfish here." She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and walked past me with Jamie at her side, chin lifted and eyes forward.

I forced myself not to stare after them. Instead, I glared at the concrete ground in front of me. I hoped no one had witnessed the altercation. The last thing I needed was rumors flying about valedictorian-to-be starting drama with popular girls.

The nerve of those two, I fumed. Just who did they think they are? Clara was a nice and pretty enough and nice enough girl. That didn't mean Valentino had to be with her.

But my heart sank into a pit in my chest. Who was I compared to Clara? Clara could dress up for and date Valentino. I couldn't, even if Mama let me go to prom. I felt my breathing shallow. Was Elsa right to say I was selfish? I was hanging out with Valentino whenever he had free time, knowing there were other girls who could benefit from it more. Other girls who could offer him more than just library meet-ups.

"You tryna burn a hole in the ground or something?"

I gasped a little and stood against Valentino's towering frame on the step above me. His presence removed all my woes, including the stifling heat.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"I could tell." He smiled a little in reassurance. "I see you haven't melted," he added, stepping down.

"Yeah, thank God!" I followed suit. This time, I hoped other people had seen me stand my ground against Elsa and Jamie so they could see Valentino walk away with me, too. "So, what did Mrs. Asaka say?" I asked.

"Uh..." he drawled out with a sigh. "I need to learn how to cite authors properly. That sort of thing."

"I think I can help with that," I leaned slightly into him.

"Mrs. Asaka actually told me to ask you for help," he confessed.

I grinned as we stopped to wait for the street sign to say go. "Yeah? I'm not surprised," I said. "I'm the smartest person in the class, y'know."

Valentino opened his mouth like he was about to return my remark with his own banter, but he pursed his lips and looked away. I felt something pinch my chest. Was something wrong? Did he ask Clara out to prom? Then it hit me—did he realize he'd told Tireya that?

I tripped over my foot and stumbled into Valentino. It was an ugly fall—I'd grabbed his shirt, and my hijab bunched up.

"Woah," he said, grasping my arm in support.

The touch sent an electrifying jolt up my body, and I jumped. Several students and the security guard nearby glanced our way. Oh, Allah, I'm a mess.

"Sorry," I whispered. Why was I whispering? I didn't know.

"No problem."

I gripped the handle of my schoolbag, grateful Valentino didn't say anything else, and we continued on our way to the library in silence. He opened the door for me when we reached it, and I was blessed with the first wave of cold air conditioning. We hurried over to the check-in desk, too, noticing a higher number of people inside than usual.

"I hope we can get a session in time," I said, straining to look over at the designated rental computer area. I could see heads behind all the screens. "If not, we can do homework while we wait."

"Inaya," Valentino muttered as he typed in his information, "that's the last thing I want to do right now."

"All right, all right," I laughed.

Just then, someone stood from their computer and exited the library. Valentino and I immediately glanced at the screen displaying all the reservation slots. He was next. Like last time, he grabbed a chair on the way over, and I thanked him as he placed it beside his.

In the cold library air, the sweat that had formed on my back and under my hijab made me shiver a little.

"I'm going to show you how to craft things," Valentino began as he opened the CrusadEon Online homepage. In his t-shirt and shorts, he seemed blissfully content in either heat or cold. "Crafting is a term they use where you collect materials to create an item that can't be dropped. The materials are either from defeating an enemy or as a reward for completing side quests."

I leaned forward, my eyes wide and glued to the screen as he began his little tutorial. I noticed he still received several messages from female players, but they were fewer than before.

"Sometimes, crafted items are better than boss drops," he was saying. "That's why you do 'em." He clicked the 'C' button and shook the cursor of his mouse to indicate certain items. "Here's the one I'm working on. I've got about half the required items. The rarity of the items goes by a color code of blue, red, and black. Black is the rarest. As you can see, this armor is made up of almost all black materials. If the materials needed to craft are hard to get, then it's worth spending the time to make. The stats on this one are better than the armor I'm wearing. Not everything that craftable is for stats," Valentino continued. "Some crafted gear is just for looks. I'll show you what I mean."

He went on for the next half hour. His tutorial was fast-paced and somewhat intense, and he didn't give me much time to understand each concept. His voice was a little impersonal, too, like an online streamer teaching viewers how to do something, not to a friend.

"Ah, I only have five minutes left," Valentino said, noticing the pop-up on the bottom right hand of the computer screen.

I blinked to refocus as he leaned back a little and began to log off the game and computer.

"Oh," I said, standing. I would probably have to do some more research before I started crafting in-game.

Valentino grabbed my chair to return it to its place. I glanced at my phone to see unread texts from my dad. I quickly replied.

"Your dad on his way?"

I nodded.

"Well, I've got to get to practice," Valentino opened the door for me. With it, a wave of muggy air blew into my face, contrasting too starkly against the cold library atmosphere.

"Actually," I replied, taking a step away. It occurred to me that it was obnoxiously hot out. Plus, there was no way I could have my baba see me with a guy. "I think I'll stay here until he gets here. So, bye!" I waved.

Valentino didn't question me and waved back before exiting the library.

I frowned slightly as he disappeared from view. I used to enjoy watching Valentino playing the game, but today's session was...off. Awkward? And I had no idea why. Was it prom? His grades?

When my baba pulled up, I slipped into the car and shut the door. I wrinkled my nose as I pulled the seat belt across.

"Baba, what's that smell?"

Behind the cold air was a pungent, sour, almost tangy smell that burned the back of my throat. I'd never smelled anything like it before.

"What sme—?" my dad stopped speaking, and his eyes popped slightly. He immediately rolled the windows down.

"You don't smell it?" I exhaled through my nostrils.

"Uh, yeah. Let's wait for a little," he said. He gripped the steering wheel and refused to make eye contact with me.

I frowned. I thought it was counterproductive to have the air conditioner running with the windows down, but I wanted the smell to disappear, so I said nothing else. It was making my head hurt, too.

After a few minutes, my dad put up the windows again and drove out of the library parking space. I settled deep into the car seat and texted Salah about my encounter with Elsa and Jamie.

"Your mama told me you'd like to go to prom," he prompted at the silence.

I flipped my phone down and closed my eyes. "Yeah."

"You don't want to go to prom?"

"Do you want me to?" I turned my head to look at him with my eyebrows raised.

"Well, I mean...." He sighed. "I would prefer it if you didn't. I know it's all most of you kiddos look forward to in high school, but it's really not a good place. There's something called kathra al-sawad." He cleared his throat. "It describes when a sin becomes worse the more people become involved in it, compared to if you did the same sin on your own. Going to prom is an example. Or a concert."

I thought a moment about the new term and then nodded. I hoped that by giving myself limits to prom I could avoid invoking that.

"Did you go to prom, Baba? You weren't Muslim then."

"I actually didn't," he chuckled nervously. "Your old man's always been a nerd. Went out with the boys instead."

"That's okay," I patted my dad's arm in comfort. "Mama loves you."

Baba's eyes stayed on the road, and his voice didn't hold the usual tenderness whenever he talked about Mama when he said, "Yeah, yeah, she does."

I retracted my hand and moved it to my lap. First, Valentino. Now, my dad was acting weird. There was that guilt in Baba's eyes again. It was in his voice, too. But what was there to be guilty of when he was talking about religious rules and Mama?