"So, he has the letters?"

"Yeah," Dahlia affirmed, gingerly.

Malika only nodded in response. She didn't speak another word, her mouth was clenched shut; but the storm in her honey eyes displayed her feelings loud and clear.

"Maybe he didn't read them," Dahlia tried to console her. "Maybe once he realized what they were he put them away."

"Yeah, Dels. He definitely didn't read the years worth of letters addressed to him because that's what a normal person would do," Farrah said dryly.

Dahlia's words died on her lips. She let out a sigh, realizing there wasn't anything she could say to make the situation better.

"If he had the letters, why didn't he say anything earlier?" Farrah asked.

Both girls looked up to meet her eyes. Farrah was curled up on top of the bed and snuggled under a blanket.

"He said he didn't know how to react to them," Dahlia answered. "I guess he was just processing." She shrugged.

He had her letters. He held them in his hands. Malika's stomach churned just at the thought. "God, this is a nightmare," she let out a sigh.

"I mean, would it be so horrible if he read them?" Farrah prompted. "You did write the letters for him. Don't you think it's better they finally reached him?"

"They weren't written for him," she corrected. "They were written to him. They're-" she stopped halfway as her eyes fell on Dahlia again. The girl looked just as uncomfortable as she felt.

They were in Malika's bedroom. The hijabi was seared on the carpeted floor from across her, picking on one end of the cookie packet lying on top of the pile of other sugary treats to avoid her eye. It was the night before the weekends. There was an old Bollywood movie playing on Farrah's laptop that no one was paying attention to anymore.

"Just forget it, alright?" Malika said at last. "This whole situation should have never happened." She rubbed her face with her hands, her sensitive cheeks turning pink.

Silence settled into the bedroom. Malika's life was out of control, or that's how it felt. As someone who had experienced a severe breach of privacy in her tender teen years, it was something she had come to become very protective of. Malika's boundaries were steel and she preferred it that way. Layla made her recall the worst experience of her life. So despite the girl's intentions, Malika still refused to be in the same room as her.

Perhaps Malika should have felt happy to be finally liberated of this burden, the burden of the letters and keeping her feelings for Ibrahim a secret. Hiding it from her best friends for all these years was difficult to say the least. She found the words come to her lips so many times, almost on the edge of her tongue; her heart fought madly against her ribcage, reasoning with her mind to lighten the burden. But Malika could never even consider the option, not when - Dahlia - Ibrahim's sister was always in the picture.

She reached out and grabbed another packet of chocolate chip cookies. She took out a piece and started munching on it. The snacks were Dahlia's contribution. They always were.

On a regular day, Malika wouldn't put junk food like this anywhere near her mouth. She wasn't as tedious about food as Farrah, but she watched what she ate.

However, on the occasion of having her most guarded secret publicized to her friends, Malika believed she deserved a treat. So she embraced Dahlia's policy 'our bodies do so much for us it deserves to be treated,' for the night.

"At least now you know where the letters are," Farrah consoled. "They didn't end up in someone else's hands."

Perhaps that was the only thing Malika took comfort in, that the letters didn't end up in his father's hands or something. But knowing Ibrahim had them, and read them, stirred something else in her chest. She felt more vulnerable than she ever had in her life, even more than the time she had those horrendous pictures of her circulating the internet. Those pictures weren't her, literally, but the letters were the depth of her heart.

Part of her was angry too. He read the letters and sat in them for so long. Malika knew her anger was unreasonable. He didn't owe her a response; but it was hard not to feel scorned when he had her heart in his hands, and perhaps didn't even want it.

"Excuse me, ladies," Dahlia stood up. "I need to use the restroom."

As the girl left, Malika let out a heavy sigh. "She must think I'm so stupid."

"She's probably feeling awkward and wishes she wasn't in this position. She's also most likely secretly annoyed with you, Layla and Ibrahim for burdening her with your drama, but she doesn't think you're stupid. Della would never think of you like that."

"I would think I'm stupid If I were her."

She let out a chuckle. "So, you and Ibrahim, huh," Farrah muse, raising her brows jokingly.

Malika kept her eyes trained to the cookie, avoiding her friend's gaze. "There's no me and Ibrahim," she said, hiding the strain the words put on her. "It's just me, my letters and my embarrassment."

Farrah chuckled again. She narrowed her eyes as the laughter died off. "How come you never told me about him?" she asked. "I mean, you've never been shy about any of your crushes, even all the embarrassing ones."

Malika tried to swallow the nerves rising to her throat. Hearing Farrah call Ibrahim a crush sounded laughable to her. Ibrahim wasn't just a crush. Malika didn't even know what he was but what she felt couldn't be described as just a crush.

"I couldn't bring myself to admit it," she responded. "He's Ibrahim, you know? Our friend's brother and the guy we went to high school with." She ended with a shrug.

Malika considered many times to just confide in Farrah. Then she imagined everyone else finding out, eventually, and their reaction to it. Girls like Malika did not get boys like Ibrahim.

That thought hit her like a punch in the gut, every time.

"Hey," Farrah said. "It's not the end of the world, even though you feel that way. I can see it on your face," she quickly added before Malika could protest. "If nothing, at least you know you shot your shot. You won't have to hold onto 'what ifs' anymore."

"I guess that's one way to look at it."

"Besides, we all have embarrassing stories." Farrah shrugged. "Just remember Dahlia's history with Aryan, or how she ran into Zak at the men's room once, or basically anytime she tries to meet a new person."

At that, a smile actually broke out on Malika's lips. "I have seen her do worse," she said. "Dahlia could barely speak around Salman when she first met him. She used to turn red and blabber like an idiot."

"Is that so?" Farrah asked, sudden nonchalance rolling off her.

"That's no longer the case though," Malika said. "Dels says she heard Salman actually speak and the charm wore off."

At that, a small grin appeared on her lips. "Your brother has that effect on people."

Malika finally met Farrah's eyes. The girl was now casually twirling a piece of her coarse thick hair between her fingers. "I missed this. Your stupid wisdom." she rolled her eyes. "The rest of us idiots are completely lost without it."

Farrah's grin widened but her eyes shimmered with fondness. "No kidding. I have been busy for just a couple of months and you girls have already got yourself into this mess."

"Don't bail on us again."

Dahlia re-entered the room. "So, what'd I miss?" she asked while taking her space on the carpet again.

"Nothing much." Malika raised a shoulder and dropped it. "Just how you mispronounce your name every time you try to introduce yourself to a stranger."

Dahlia let out a groan. "How'd we go from Malika's embarrassing stories to mine? Again."

"I mean, is it even a sleepover if we don't reenact at least one of your embarrassing moments?" Farrah asked playfully.

"Or you huff with anger?" Malika added.

"It's kind of a tradition at this point."

"Man, I thought we'd finally have a sleepover where we'd laugh at someone else, now that Malika has the worst embarrassing story of all time. Then Dahlia took a deep breath. "Fine, bring it on." She braced herself as she pulled two packets of chips and candies towards her. "I'm ready."

Ibrahim leaned against his car as he waited for Salman to appear. Last night, he received a call from the guy. Salman blabbered about how his car was at the garage for maintenance and he had an important errand to run.

How Ibrahim ended up agreeing to be his designated chauffeur for the day went over his head. The man-child, perhaps, was smarter than he gave him credit for.

"Aye, Sasquatch," the familiar smooth voice called. "Where's your head at?"

Ibrahim was snapped back to reality. Salman Bashir took large strides to cover the distance between them, all the while fixing his hair. He was so overdressed he could be attending a party, just to run errands.

Ibrahim furrowed his eyebrows. "Just thinking how you're not as air-headed as you seem to be."

Salman lowered his hand, shooting him a dazzling smile. "Happens all the time. Us pretty people are very misunderstood."

He rolled his eyes. "So, where do you need me to drive you?"

"We can start with my dentist's appointment," Salman said.

Ibrahim raised an eyebrow derisively. "I promised I'll drive you to and back from just one destination. That's all you get."

Salman batted a hand in the air. "We'll figure it out along the way."

"One free ride, then I charge double of what Uber would."

"Oh c'mon, Sasquatch," Salman insisted. "I thought religious people were supposed to be generous."

"Muslims, in general, aren't allowed to exploit anyone, especially those who offer free help," Ibrahim retorted.

Salman rolled his eyes. "And you call me dramatic."

Their bickering continued as the two guys got into the car. Ibrahim blocked out Salman's nonsense at some point and zoned out. He lifted his eyes to the building once, his mind inadvertently turning to Malika. He wondered if she was home.

Ibrahim knew he shouldn't be thinking of her, but he couldn't help it. Since the letters, it took very little to turn his mind towards her.

He couldn't believe what he was reading when he first found the letters. In all the years Ibrahim spent around that girl, he could have never imagined she felt the way she did. Ibrahim reached out to Dahlia almost as a plea for help, because he didn't know what to make of the letters at first, or how to feel about them.

Then he reread the letters. Again and again, and Ibrahim couldn't believe he didn't see it. Or her.

Malika was always around but his eyes glazed over her as just one of the girls. She was blessed with beauty, no doubt, but he never saw her separately from Farrah or Layla; as more than his sister's friend.

He was beginning to realize there was so much more to her.

There was a finger snapping in front of him. Ibrahim forgo his thoughts once more and turned to look at Salman pointedly.

"Hurry up, we don't have all day, peasant."

"Don't test me today, Salman. There's a ditch at the end of the road. I might get tempted," Ibrahim quipped.

Salman's lips turned up in a lopsided smile. "Empty threats, Sasquatch. You don't seem like the murder type either."

"You know what? For you, I'll make an exception." With that, he started driving.

AN: You guys get Ibrahim's first reaction of the letters!

More to come.

I remember Ibrahim and Salman's scenes got the most attention when I previously posted the sequels. I believe this bromance is the fan favorite?

Also, if there's one thing I miss from my childhood/teen years it's sleepovers with my cousins. Apart from being spread across the world, we also don't have the time for a sleepover. That's adult life unfortunately.