Zara's POV.

I was getting ready to go to work and Fatoo was here laying on my bed, talking my ears off. It has been exactly a week since the incident at the restaurant.

After the incident, we all went to Fatoo's place. Me and the rest of the girls I mean. We basically calmed ourselves down, talked, comforted each other and Fatoo more. And they spoke to me about how I do things without thinking. That I should not let my anger take over my thinking and other things along the lines of that.

I listened to them but would I sit and watch people walk all over me without giving a piece of my mind? We'll see about that.

"I haven't been to Aunty Aliya's place in a long while and today I got the perfect opportunity to visit her. You're taking Umma and my mother sent me to give something to her so I'll be in your back seat as you drive us there." Fatoo said and shoved another piece of fried chicken into her mouth.

I honestly don't know where that came from. Whether it was from our fridge or she came with it, I don't know.

And I never mentioned this, but Umma na and Madam Raliya are really good friends. Obviously they met through me and now they have become the best of friends.

"You're being a pain in the ass, Fatoo." I lamented.

"It;s your ass and it's huge, so I don't mind."

The gasp that I gasped and the laugh that Fatoo laughed. She sounds like two hyena's combined.

When I tell you all of my friends are unhinged, believe me. They say whatever they want to say with, whenever they want to say it with no care whatsoever to what people might think or say.

"Yauwa!" Fatoo yells and jumps off the bed. That made me abruptly turn to look at her and give her the 'are you okay' look.

"Why must you be loud?" I ask, genuinely.

"I'm picking your outfit today! I just remember how you always wear atamfa when you're supposed to be wearing corporate clothes."

I peeked at her through my mirror, squinting at her. "What's wrong with atamfa?" I mumbled. "It's comfortable."

"Comfortable, yes. Corporate, no." She walked over and pulled me away from the mirror. "Sit down. We've got work to do."

I sighed, knowing there was no escaping Fatoo once she set her mind to something. I could escape it if I wanted to but I'll let her have her fun. I sat down by the edge of the bed and watched her. She was standing in front of it with her hands on her hips, surveying my collection of brightly patterned atamfa dresses.

"Seriously, Zara," she said, shaking her head. "Do you even own anything else?"

"Not really," I admitted, hoping she'd give up and let me wear my usual attire.

Fatoo started pulling out hangers, shoving atamfa dresses aside with a determined look. "There has to be something in here," she muttered.

And then, she stopped. Her eyes widened, and she let out a triumphant gasp. "Aha! I knew it!"

I peered over her shoulder and saw her holding up a navy blue two-piece suit. It looked vaguely familiar, like something I'd bought on a whim and promptly forgotten about. She paired it with a crisp white shirt and a white veil.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said, staring at the outfit. "I can't wear that."

"Oh, yes you can," Fatoo insisted. "And you will. Now, go try it on. No, not try it on, go wear it. If you don't, I'll gladly help you."

I hissed a very long hiss at her.

She practically shoved me into the bathroom, suit in hand. I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. After a few minutes of struggling with buttons and adjusting the veil, I stepped out.

Fatoo's reaction was immediate and over the top. "Zara!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "You look amazing! Absolutely stunning! You're bodied this suit like it was made for you!"

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the fact that I actually felt pretty good in the suit. It fit perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places. "You're being ridiculous," I said, but I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips.

"No, I'm being honest," Fatoo insisted, grinning from ear to ear. "You look like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine."

I ignored her, grabbing my heels and slipping them on. "You're crazy," I said, though her words did give me a boost of confidence, but I wasn't about to tell her that I felt insecure. Even if it was for a tiny second. I picked up my handbag and headed for the door.

"Don't forget to walk like you own the place," Fatoo said, while following behind me. She locked the door.

I shook my head, chuckling despite myself. As I walked to Fatoo's range rover, where Umma was already waiting. Time to see what her reaction is going to be when she sees me in this outfit.

Will she approve of it or will I have to change? I don't know. I don't normally wear these things.

To my suprise, Umma just asked, "Ready?" While giving me a nod of approval.

I nod back and unlock the car. Fatoo opens the back door for my mother and then settles herself in the passenger seat. And in no time, we arrived at our destination.

***

Umma was walking behind Fatoo and me as we made our way to Madam Aliya's office. "As salam alaikum," the three of us said in unison as we stepped inside.

Madam Aliya smiled the moment she saw us. She got up from her desk, walked over to my mother, and engulfed her in a hug. You'd think they were sisters with the way they acted around each other.

Fatoo and I bowed our heads slightly out of respect as we greeted her, and she hugged us both.

"Fatima," she said, addressing Fatoo. "It's been a long while since you've visited." She playfully smacked Fatoo, who just smiled shyly, looking like a fool.

"Zara'u," she called me, and I internally cringed. I hate that name. I hate it when people add the "u," but what can I do? Nothing.

"You look different," she said, giving me a head-to-toe look that made me nervous. I stood there, waiting for her to finish her assessment and say whatever was on her mind. Good or bad, compliment or criticism, I was ready.

"You look absolutely stunning. This is more your style." But it was Madam Aliya, and nothing bad ever came from her. I was a blushing mess after receiving that compliment from her.

"Thank you," I said.

"You have a day off today, Zara," she announced while leading my mother to the lounge in her office.

"Fatoo, Ashraf is at the back." With that, Fatoo grabbed my arm and dragged me to the back to meet this Ashraf guy.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"Her son," she replied.

"Oh, okay."

We walked to the backyard, greeting Malam Saminu on the way. In the gazebo, a man sat with a laptop. I couldn't see his face because the sun was shining directly into my eyes. Thank God for sunscreen, or I'd look like a multicolored human.

"Ashraf!!!" Fatoo yelled even before we reached the gazebo. Her voice could bring down walls. Sigh.

As we approached the gazebo, I realized Ashraf wasn't alone. There was a woman with him, and I recognized her as Asma.

I hate her guts. In fact, I hate her entire existence on this earth. She irks me so much. She's always out of the country. I wonder what she's doing in Nigeria when she's supposed to be in Italy or New York.

"Ashraf!" Fatoo yelled again, startling the man. When he raised his head, I gasped. It was the man with the ugly toes.

Auzubillahi. Why do I have to be here of all places? I turned to walk away, but Fatoo's strong hands grabbed mine and dragged me into the gazebo.

"Hi, Asma," Fatoo greeted her. Asma responded with a smile I'd never seen before. I, on the other hand, didn't even bother to acknowledge her presence until she opened her stinky mouth to talk. Her mouth isn't actually stinky; I just don't like her.

Asma gave me one of the dirtiest looks ever, and I just hissed.

Moving on to ugly toes. I didn't know he was Madam Aliya's son. If I did, I would have avoided him at all costs because I know I can never be nice to him.

"It's you!" he recognized me even though I hoped he wouldn't speak to me.

"You know her?" Asma asked, looking somewhat disgusted. I don't even know.

"Yeah," he said.

"No," I said. We spoke at the same time.

Fatoo and Asma were looking at both of us now. Fatoo seemed amused, and Asma looked irritated. I couldn't care less, really.

I ignored all of them, even Fatoo, and went to sit on one side of the long sofa.

Fatoo then sat next to ugly toes, and Asma moved closer to them. I was at the far end of the sofa, but I could still hear them. So annoying.

I pulled out my phone to distract myself because there was this itching on my forehead, which meant someone was definitely looking at me, and I had an inkling who that was.

I raised my head, and there he was, staring at my forehead or maybe my eyes. I don't know, and I don't care. I gave him a look that said, "If you don't look away, I'll pull your eyes out of their sockets." And that did the trick; he looked away.

"Imran is having a barbecue party, more like a get-together, and he asked me to invite you and your friends," ugly toes said.

Imran. I haven't heard that name in a long while.

"Zara!" I looked up.

"I've been calling your name. Where is your head at?" Fatoo asked.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Barbecue party with a few friends this weekend. Are you in?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

"Classic," Fatoo said and turned to ugly toes. "She's in, and so are Nana and Amina."

"What about me, Ya Ashraf?" That was Asma.

"Imran doesn't really like you... so no." That was Fatoo, and damn, did that reply hit Asma in the heart.

She looked like she wanted to explode. She hissed and hurriedly left the gazebo, embarrassed.

Fatoo shook her head and continued speaking to the guy with the weird trousers and ugly toes while I continued using my phone.

After about an hour of sitting in the gazebo, doing nothing but hearing the two catch up and talk about old times, Umma called us in. It was time to leave.

When we entered the living room where Umma and Madam Aliya had moved to, there was an old woman with them. As the well-mannered girls that we are, Fatoo and I squatted and greeted her respectfully, and she patted our heads and blessed us.

I felt happy. Blessings from old people make me happy.

"You must be Zara," the old lady said, smiling. I smiled back.

I didn't know her, but there was something about her that I just couldn't put my finger on.

"She is Alhaji's mother," Umma said.

Madam Aliya's mother-in-law. I smiled once more and signaled for Umma to get up.

Fatoo had already gone outside to the car, and when we got there, she was standing with the Ashraf guy.

And I got to park in the garage today, not outside. It was probably because Umma or Fatoo was there, but who cares? A win is a win.

Here is a very boring chapter.

Fatoo take, GRACIAS🎀