“When are you sending your sketchbook to Opus?” Jamie asks me one November day. He sits cross-legged in front of me. His lunch is a poached salmon he made himself since that’s something halal he could get from the grocery store without making his parents suspicious.
“I have until June. But I want to send it as soon as possible. I have two pages left to draw in. I hope I figure it out before the deadline.” I feel as if I could break into hives every time I think about it. I take a bite from my zait and za’atar sandwich.
Jamie watches me carefully. “You will.” Then his gaze falls to my sandwich, and his expression falters.
“What?”
There’s a crease between his brows, and his stare becomes laser focused, like he just realized something. “What are you eating?”
I glance at my sandwich. “It’s just zait wa za’atar. It means olive oil and thyme. But like ground thyme and other herbs?”
“You’ve had that all week, right?”
“Yeah?”
He raises his eyes to me and smiles, but I know his smiles now, and this one is somewhat strained. “Looks delicious.”
After lunch, Jamie and I have a period together, and I can walk to the classroom without looking over my shoulder. A couple of people watch us, but Jamie moves around them without a care in the world. I know every time Nicole hears about it, she adds another pin into the doll she made of me.
“Jihad!” I hear Audrey calling me.
I pause, glancing back to see her moving toward me. Jamie also stops.
“Hey, how are you?” she asks. I see her colors so clearly today. A deep mauve around her silhouette that ripples like waves. Her hair falls over her shoulders, and I think she looks absolutely adorable.
“Good.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but I got too busy. Did anything come from Dr. Mérieux?”
I blink and Jamie goes still. “No. Not really.”
Her expression falls. “Damn,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Jihad. I really thought…”
“And I hoped I was wrong,” I reply.
She grimaces before leaving, and I turn to see Jamie watching me.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Why did you go to the principal’s office?”
My mouth goes dry. I don’t want to tell him. It’s too embarrassing, which I know is irrational, but I want to keep this part far away. Maybe if I don’t think about it, it’s not real. “It’s nothing.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You want to carry this on your own?”
I remember when he asked me if there was anyone to help me after Adrian cornered me in the chemistry classroom.
I take a deep breath. “There was an issue with some boys, and Audrey suggested we go to the principal. Nothing came from it. That’s all.”
He stills. “Is it still happening?”
“Not much. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” And I know I’m right. It’s just a couple of people whose barks are worse than their bites. A couple of remarks and a broken locker? That’s nothing compared with what could be.
Jamie follows me but he’s distracted the whole class, and every now and then, his gaze falls to my wrists. It’s confusing, and I’m not sure what’s happening.
“What?” I whisper, rubbing my wrists, and he looks up at me, like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“What are you doing after school?”
