Chapter Six : North Star
"I see both our friends are jerks." Zakir hummed, talking to Estrella.
"I take offense to that!" I said, a little loudly, surprised to be met with Badr's voice as he said the same thing.
Estrella laughed quietly. "You two are just..."
"Oof." Zakir finished. "They are oof."
"That sounds about right." I joked, shrugging.
Badr walked into the room with a tray, four cups of chai having their own little balancing act on it. He placed it on the coffee table, bringing over a small container of milk and another one of sugar. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." He said playfully.
"If I keep drinking this much chai, I'm gonna end up with an addiction." I groaned softly, joking around.
"So, you'll end up like every brown aunty ever?" Zakir jested as he picked up his chai.
"Every desi aunty," Estrella corrected, much to Badr and Zakir's surprise.
"Yep. Pretty much." I took a sip of my chai. "Oh, yeah! Thanks for the chai, Badr, but I am anxious to see those pai-" He started shaking his head subtly, not wanting me to continue.
"Those?" El asked in confusion.
"Those extra poster boards you have!" I tried to cover up my mistake as I got up. Badr led me to his bedroom, which was right in front of the main room so El and Zakir could still see us. He got down by his bed and started pulling something out. "Do your friends not know you paint? Or draw?"
"No one does." He pulled out a small briefcase and placed it on the bed. "I wanted to do it as a profession, but... that thought basically gave my parents a heart attack. Out of anger, my dad threw away all my art supplies and said that I wasn't allowed to draw or paint anymore."
"That's... horrible." I leaned my head against the doorframe. "I'm so sorry, Badr. That sounds terrible. I wish I could help."
"You already have." He seemed to brighten up a little. "At least there's someone who knows, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so." I tried to give him a smile, even though I knew he wouldn't see it. "Okay!" I tried to make the atmosphere a little less heavy. "Show me some of your stuff!"
Badr opened the briefcase, a bunch of papers and small canvases stuffed inside. He picked up the canvas on the top. "I finished painting this one just the other day."
The painting was of two people in the rain. There was a boy holding an umbrella, a slight smile on his face, and a girl dancing around in the rain. There were trees lining the road that the two were on, leaves drifting about. "That is beautiful, Badr! Oh my gosh! I love it!" I kept my voice down, but it really was an amazing piece of art. "I think it might be my favorite artwork ever."
He laughed softly. "I'm not that good. And you haven't seen some of the others yet!" He reminded, setting the painting aside. Next, he pulled out a paper. It had a sketch of an island with nothing but a tree floating on water.
"Woah!" I exclaimed, holding out my hand to take it from him. Badr handed me the sketch. "This is amazing, Badr. You're an awesome artist!"
"Thanks." He played with his hands. "I just wish my parents thought that."
"Have they ever seen your work?" I asked, glancing upwards. It was an accident, but I caught a glimpse of his face. It was honestly surprising that I hadn't yet, but still. My eyes widened a bit and I immediately put my head down, looking at the drawing once more.
"No. They never cared to." He sighed. "But it's okay!" He tried to cheer himself up. "Because of them, I'll have a more stable career!"
I wanted to object, say that it wasn't reason enough. That there ways to have both things, but I kept my mouth shut. He was trying to be happy. I could at least let him have that. "You're right." I handed him the sketch. "And you can still continue painting and drawing, on the side."
He seemed to nod. "Yeah, alhumdullilah." He showed me a couple more of this sketches and finished works, amazing me every single time. But after he finished, he crossed his arms expectantly. "It's your turn now," He reminded. "I wanna see some of your poems."
I bit my lip, a light blush finding my cheeks. I didn't usually show my stuff to anyone, so this would be new. "Okay, let me just grab my bag. I have one of my journals in there." I turned around and walked back to where El and Zakir were, digging my hand through my bag. My fingers grazed the hard cover of a notebook and I immediately pulled it out.
I gave El a smile and walked back over to Badr. "Instead of me reading these out loud, you can just read them yourself, since... you know, those two could hear." I held out the journal. "You can read any of these. Just, ehm, some of them get... really dark... I hope none of them change the way you see me."
"I wouldn't let poems change the way I see you, Salah." Badr lifted his hand, gently taking the journal from mine. He made sure that our hands didn't touch in any way, having his fingers on the other edge of the book.
I dropped my hand back down to my side, unsure what to do with it now. I played with my fingers nervously, awaiting his reaction to the first poem. I watched as he turned to the first page. The way he touched the pages, you could tell he was being careful with the book.
"Salah-" He looked up, then back down at the poem. "This is... mashallah. I don't even have words. You have a real talent!"
Although grateful for the compliment, and a little relieved that he liked it, I still wanted to slink into the wall and disappear. I wasn't used to showing my work to people. "Thank- Thanks."
"Salah!" I heard El call out from behind me. "We have to go! Aileen says North Star is acting weird. She thinks he might be sick!"
My eyes widened and I turned around. "What? Is he okay?" I rushed over, grabbing my bag. "Sorry, guys. I have to go!" I didn't even care to stop and turn around.
"Wa-" I thought I heard someone call something out, but I was already out the door with El right beside me.
Words:
-Desi: A person whom is Indian, Pakistani, or Bangladeshi.
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