Later that night, with our bags packed, I stepped out of the house and into the family car. While the girls of Maxwell High were still dancing under pounding music, I was buckling my seatbelt with a Polaroid camera on my lap.

My family of three, plus one aunt, found ourselves talking over each other as we loaded our luggage into the car. We would fly to Buffalo since Baba didn't want to drive six and a half hours straight to the Canadian border. Aunt Naomi was in the backseat next to me so she could drive our car back from the airport to park it in the house's garage.

The drive took well over an hour, and it wasn't long into the trip that I found myself sighing. No matter how many times I told myself I'd done the right thing with Valentino, my chest felt empty. I kept remembering the coldness in his eyes. The sharpness of his words. It hurt to breathe.

"Inaya, have you started your salutatorian speech yet?" Mama asked from the shotgun seat.

Aunt Naomi lifted an arm as I rifled through my hand luggage and opened the small book, grateful for a possible distraction. Clicking my pen, the blankness of the pages intimidated me. Neither Salah nor Ameena applied to Cornell—Salah was aiming for colleges farther away, and Ameena was going for a gap year to consider possible career options as an artist while managing her upcoming wedding—which meant this was part of my goodbye to them, too.

I put the notebook away. Aunt Naomi didn't say anything, offering me a shoulder to take a nap on instead. I whispered a thank-you but knew I wouldn't get any rest.

* * *

Unpacking our things with tired eyes, I glanced at the time on my phone to see that I had gotten a few texts earlier. It was a message from Ameena and Salah in our group chat.

I sat on the bed beside my open suitcase to see a picture of Ameena with her prom date. Blurred in the background was the entrance of the prom venue. I willed myself to be happy.

👑 Queen Salah 👑: yesssss girl

You and your man look sooooo cute

Match made in heaven!

Can you tell us now if he goes to our school? I've never seen him before

👑 Queen Salah 👑: That's because you only have eyes for Valentino

So you're telling me you've seen him around??

👑 Queen Salah 👑: He looks familiar

I swallowed the rising pain at the mention of Valentino. If only they knew...would they hate me like he does, too? I took a deep breath and tapped Ameena's picture.

"Mama! Look at this," I called my mom over. "This is my friend Ameena. Her parents are planning to get her married to that guy."

"Really? Masha'Allah." Mama observed the picture with wide eyes. "They look happy. Yusuf, come look."

I tilted the phone to let both my parents see the picture.

"Yeah, they look good," Baba agreed.

"What do you think about marrying young, Inaya?"

I looked away. "No. Well, I don't know. I like my life the way it is," I added, hoping to convince myself it was true. "Plus, you said no boys until the end of college."

"I just wanted your opinion," Mama said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Stop giving her ideas," Baba said to her with a serious frown. "I'm not ready to let go of my princess yet."

"Don't worry, Baba. I'm not going anywhere," I laughed. It echoed painfully between my ribs. "I haven't even gotten my driver's license yet. You guys are going to be stuck with me for years!"

Baba's lips widened into a smile. "And I wouldn't mind one bit."

"You're just saying that because she'll drive you to that fishing spot with your work friends." Mama rolled her eyes.

"As if you wouldn't have her drive you and Naomi to every museum in the city!" Baba shot back.

She gasped at the accusation. "I wouldn't! Inaya would enjoy it as much as we do! Oh, and this is for you, Inaya," Mama added. She turned away and retrieved something from the suitcase.

"Yeah?" I leaned over to see what it was.

"This is my photo album," Mama said, offering me a large, cream-colored bound book. I took the outstretched item and quickly opened it. "I think it's only fair you start learning about my side of the family."

I flipped through it, my chest warm and airy like cotton candy. Faces I'd never seen before; happy, sad, neutral, faces with dark hair and a range of skin tones graced the pages. I stopped at a family portrait with five children, but my gaze lingered on the couple behind them.

The older woman clad in a copper shari looked exactly like my mom, with bold brows and a large-bridged nose, except her skin was porcelain white. Beside this woman was an elderly man in a lavender-colored fanjabi. He wore large, gold-framed glasses over his bearded face and a white tufi to cover his head. His skin tone matched Mama's tan.

My right hand trembled as I placed it over the couple. They had to be my nanu and nana.

"Oh, I forgot to turn those pictures over," Mama whispered beside me.

My watery gaze flew to meet my mom's. "Why would you turn it over?"

"It's our tradition. You turn over a picture when someone in them dies," she answered. "And write the name of the person on the back. Your nanu did that with her family album."

"Oh."

Mama smiled briefly, her gaze lingering on the photo of her parents. "There are only two things guaranteed in life, Inaya. Death and love. Islam tells us what to love and how to love so that death may be easy for us. I wronged you by hiding your nana's death and his love." She wiped the edge of her eye. "This isn't something that'll be fixed in a day or two, but I joined a group therapy session for people who've lost loved ones to gun violence so that I can move on."

Baba cleared his throat, indicating that he was joining in the conversation. "That's right. And I want to do my part, too. The mosque is holding some events to help Muslims control addictive behaviors. I want to attend them so I can always be here for you and your mama."

With my family album on my lap, I took hold of Baba and Mama's hands and declared, "I'm proud of you both!"

"Let's get something to eat," Mama said.

Baba and I agreed.

There wasn't much open past midnight, but the hotel offered vegan snacks. We sat on the balcony of our hotel room, the wrappers of our meal in the trash, to enjoy the ambiance of the cool night sky. Due to our proximity to the Falls, you could hear the cascading waters roar in the distance. Baba said the waterfall sounded like a mighty river, but Mama said it sounded more like the crashing of waves. I thought it sounded like peace.

After a few minutes of enjoying the scene, Mama stood.

"It's getting late. We're going to bed," she said. "Don't stay out too long, or you'll catch a cold, okay, Inaya?"

"And if you need anything, ask room service," Baba added.

I nodded at their words and turned away as they shut the balcony doors behind them. I hugged my knees, stared at the bright lights of the not-as-tall-as-NYC buildings against the indigo sky, and thought of Valentino. I so badly wanted to stay in his life—being someone to discover our mother's families—but how I went about it was all wrong.

I clicked my Polaroid to capture the view and, with a sigh, stood to walk back inside. Like Mama, I'd skittered around and had been tempted to want more than friendship.

My phone blinked alive, and I found that Salah and Ameena had been chatting lively in the group chat. I sat up on my elbows to read through it.

👑 Queen Salah 👑: So, how was prom, Ameena? Spilllll

AmEEna: What's to spill? I was already home by 10 so definitely nothing interesting was happening lmao

👑 Queen Salah 👑: nothing??

The way ya man's holding you tellin me otherwise

AmEEna: I think I could've been prom queen lol

If I stayed longer

👑 Queen Salah 👑: whattttttt

I woulda taken the beating from my parents if it meant getting crowned

I mean I'm already a queen but still

AmEEna: Lol not me

I value my life

👑 Queen Salah 👑: So, was everyone else there?

AmEEna: I think so? Almost everyone was there.

Oh Annok, that girl from homeroom says hi to Inaya

Aw!

Who did she go to prom with??

It was late but Ameena still replied.

AmEEna: Maleek. He's in my art class.

They pulled off wearing a pretty normal attire by calling themselves the ringleader and a dancer

I hope Valentino is okay

I didn't want to tell them what I learned, so I stopped and stared absently up at the white ceiling.

The crux of the ordeal was over.

I settled on my right side and said the nightly prayers, but my mind wouldn't stop. Our last meeting kept replaying in my head, and I tossed and turned, clutching my chest like I could grab my heart and cradle its pain away.

I shouldn't have tried to excuse my behavior when I told Valentino the truth. There was a proverb about that: sometimes, the excuse is worse than the sin itself.

Eventually, the rushing waterfalls in the distance put me to sleep.

* * *

The two-day trip flew by. The cold, white waters of Niagara Falls were as majestic as I expected it would be, the food was great, and the guided tours that explained the formation and history of the area were just as enjoyable. Before I knew it, we were all loading our luggage to head to the airport again.

Aunt Naomi picked us up from the airport Friday night, and the whole ride back, Mama and Baba talked to us about how Cornell University was a great prospective college. Since Cornell wasn't too far from where we lived, I could commute an hour once I got my license. Baba was especially happy about the decision. He kept telling me he wasn't ready for me to grow up so fast. I found it amusing; I was taller than Mama, yet I would always be their little girl.

At last, after hours of journey, it was home sweet home. I heard my parents discussing whether to shower or wash up for the night prayer while I went to my room to dump my stuff, pull my hijab off, and throw it in the hamper. I flattened myself on my bed and winced at how the soft material brushed against my cheek. I hadn't realized I'd gotten sunburnt.

I glanced at my computer, let out a slow sigh, and went to text Annok.

Hey, I heard you went to prom! Hope you had a good time :)

Annok!!: yup!

Image attached.

My dress was inspired by you!

My eyes watered. Annok stood with her friends, arms linked and smiling for the camera. While her friends wore an array of strapless, knee-length or thigh-showing dresses in various colors, she wore a dusty pink floor-length dress with mesh bishop sleeves. The dress's bodice was covered in floral sequins, and the skirt was ruffled at its hemline.

To anyone else, Annok was just another girl dolled up and in a fancy dress for prom. But to me, she embodied the love of a supportive friend.

It's gorgeous!!

You're gorgeous!!

Annok!!: so are you!!

I sat upright and reached over the bed to retrieve a vitamin cream from my suitcase. As I gently rubbed it over the parts of my flaking face, I went for a pen and my small notebook, scribbling words onto the blank page.

Our high school experience is filled with ups and downs. It's made me realize that it's so much different than an online comment you can edit or playing a video game where you can restart wherever to fix what's wrong...