***
An indistinct conversation drifted to my hearing as I approached Farah's class. Filtering the voices, my ears picked up Farah's. "Really, you guys should go see the movie sometime. My brother acts like he's made of stone, but he totally loved the movie. And that says a lot!"
Standing in the doorway, I watched her gesture away with her heart as she conversed with two of her peers. The girls waved me hello. Farah turned around to see the object of her friends' attention. A grin broke out on her face and she jogged toward me. Once within range, she wrapped her arms around me as though we were bestfriends separated by the Iraqi war.
She pulled away from the embrace, but didn't let go of my hands. "This school isn't the boring hellhole I thought it was! Raheem really does paint horrible pictures of everyone and everything. Well, except you."
I led her away from the door, giving room to those streaking into the classroom. "Except me?"
Farah clicked her tongue and waved off my question. "Never mind that. Seriously, though, school's so cool. I mean, I met this girl called Harmony, and then there's Mandy, another girl who left Iraq. She wasn't in my former school though. Guess what? I think I have found my new bffs. They're so cool. They love the same stuff I love."
I smiled at her excitement. "I'm happy you love the school."
"Me too."
"Alright, I just came to say hi. We'll see later."
"During recess?" she suggested.
"Yeah," I said. "Have a nice day."
"You too."
Waving her goodbye, I advanced toward my classroom. Thoughts of Raheem's proposal overwhelmed me. Raheem Kadir had asked me on a date. He wanted me to help undo the emotional wreckage Jameela had caused.
When he'd told me about his dad's stay in Iraq, an almost irresistible urge to comfort him with more than words had tugged at me. And now, the same emotion overwhelmed me when I thought of what Jameela had done to him.
I could understand his devastation. He saw every girl as the same. Manipulators. Liars. Cheats. And I couldn't blame him. Most girls were that way. But I wasn't. I could never hurt one's feelings on purpose. And he probably knew that already.
He'd asked me out under the pretense of needing proof. I could say yes under the pretense of wanting to prove this to him. I liked him after all, and he seemed to like me too, at least to an extent.
A distance away, Cynthia approached Alex with open arms. "Alex dear."
"Don't touch me," Alex warned. Putting out a hand to stop her, he stepped away as though she had a transmissible disease.
Cynthia's shock mirrored mine, and that of all other students hanging around the corridor.
"What?" she said, her voice barely a squeak. "I mean, are you alright?"
"It's over," Alex said, his voice cold as ice, his face hard as stone.
"What?" Cynthia asked. "You're kidding right?"
Alex laughed mockingly. "I'm certainly sure I want nothing to do with you."
"What has come over you?" Cynthia asked.
"Figure it out." He turned to leave, but Cynthia gripped his arm.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked.
"I've never been surer of anything in my life," Alex said.
Cynthia's features hardened, matching Alex's. "Okay. So, you've made your choice. Well, okay. You should have told me sooner, though, instead of ignoring my calls, snubbing me and all. You're tired and want to walk away, I will not hold you back. If you think I am going to cry and beg, you're mistaken. At the snap of my fingers, I will replace you. Just watch."
"I'm actually expecting that. Being the slut you are." Once the words left his lips, Cynthia's palm flew to his cheek, slamming hard.
"You've disrespected me enough by doing this in public," she said. "Don't disgrace me further by calling me names. I don't even know why I agreed to date you in the first place. You're a worthless piece of shit I had to tolerate every single day-"
Cynthia stopped mid-sentence, gasping with surprise as Alex's palm flew towards her face. She slammed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath, waiting for it to land. But when moments passed, and it didn't, she yanked open her eyes to find Alex's hand suspended in midair with my hand gripping it.
"Don't you dare hit my sister," I said to Alex.
Dragging her gaze to meet mine, Cynthia shook her head and walked away, shoving off one or two students. Amidst many eyes staring at me, I could see Raheem's. He stood a few feet away, his poise as though ready to spring to my aid if Alex raised his hand at me. I prayed it didn't come to the point where Raheem would fight over me. I wasn't Jameela.
Alex detached his hand from mine. "I can't believe you're defending her."
"I can't believe you tried to hit a girl," I shot back. "What's up with you? I've never seen you this way."
"That sister of yours deserves that and more," he said. Although his voice had softened, it still burned with suppressed fury. "But then, I'm glad you stepped in just in time. I wouldn't want to be the one to do that. But one of these days, trust me, someone will, and you won't be there to stop them."
"What happened?" I asked.
"What happened?" he mock-echoed. "She's been going all around Facebook, speaking of her huge crush on that new Iraqi guy who thinks he's Sherlock Holmes. That guy doesn't even seem the least interested, but Cynthia won't stop dreaming. Her posts on Facebook make me want to puke. She's so shameless, it breaks my heart. It's a pity you're related to someone like that. I don't want anything to do with her anymore. She's a pathetic spoilt brat who has neither manners nor decency. She doesn't even know how to cook. Instead of going around repainting the slutty image she's made for herself, she should find ways to make herself useful. I'm done."
His fury raged on as he stormed off, leaving the witnesses of his outburst to stare at me. One by one, they withdrew from the scene. But Raheem remained.