“Well, now you can.” I fold my arms like armor.
He scratches his cheek. “Where’s this coming from?”
I’m not really sure on the etiquette here. Do I tell him Nicole asked me for a favor? I mean, why would my input hold any weight in his decisions?
He narrows his eyes. “She asked you?”
I’ve become good at not showing my emotions, but Jamie apparently can deduce anything, just from a flicker on my face.
“She did,” he says simply. He shakes his head. “I know…I know she likes me.”
“Oh, good. Then—”
“But I don’t like her like that. And I’d appreciate keeping this between us.”
I frown. “Why?”
He frowns back. “Because you’re not a messenger. Just tell her to talk to me.”
I blink. “Thank you.”
He tilts his head at me. “It’s common decency, Jihad. You don’t need to thank me for that.”
Then he rubs his hands together and takes out his textbooks. “All right, we cried, laughed, divulged some deep trauma, and nearly braided each other’s hair. Well, my hair and your hijab. So I think we should just get some studying in?”
This time I’m the one who laughs, and the grin he has is victorious.
Muted Green
What do youneed seventy bucks for?” Amal asks when I pick up the phone.
I looked up the menu of the café the girls want to go to, and needless to say, those are prices I don’t even see on Eid.
“Going out with Alexis and her friends tomorrow.” I flip the sketchbook between my fingers, opening the page where I painted. The baby in the conch and the hands look more vivid on the page than on the walls. I watched a couple of videos online about the murals before closing my phone. They were getting in my head.
I desperately want to tell Amal about it, but I’m scared of her reaction. This blessing I discovered from our great-aunt is precious; it’s sewing up a wound inside me. It’s proof for the whole world to see. It’s more than stories Mama told us. It’s alive. Knowing my sister, her first words would dim that light inside me.
“Oh! All right,” Amal says. “You and Alexis are hanging out at school?”
I look up from the notebook, adjusting my seat carefully so I don’t accidentally pull my hair. “Yes?”
“That’s good.” Her voice is a bit too bright.
“Why do you sound like that?”
“I don’t sound like anything. I’m really glad your friendship survived all these years.”
“Well, why wouldn’t it?”
She takes a deep breath. “I know she’s been your only friend for forever. But she’s had many other friends. I was just worried she wouldn’t have time for you at school. I was wrong.”
I stay quiet, trying not to let the words sink deeper into my skin.
“But she’s nice, right?” Amal asks.
“Yeah.”
“Good. The other people you knew during school sucked.”
