Healing

16.

I yawn as I get up to turn off my alarm. It was finally Saturday and Omar had given me the day off, saying something about both of us needed a break.

I sigh as I look around my room. It was a mess.

Guess I'm spending my morning deep cleaning this place.

A clean room meant a clear head. For me at least.

But food first.

I could smell chai brewing downstairs so I brush my teeth and get a cup for myself, talking a little with my parents, before going back to my room.

I put on my airpods and pick up my phone, putting on a lecture by Yasmin Mogahed so I had something beneficial playing while I was cleaning.

I slowly work through my room as I start off by changing my sheets and move on to decluttering my desk and reorganizing my closet. The final step was to vacuum.

My mind was fully submerged on cleaning, all the worries of the word gone (a sensation cleaning usually gave me) when I feel my phone bcuz in my pocket.

My heart skips a beat as I see a certain someone had texted me.

Omar.

I hurriedly unlock my phone and read the message.

'Can we meet up'

I scrunch up my forehead.

'Is it important?' I send. Their was no reason to talk idly.

'Yes, it's very important. Is your brother home?'

Why was he asking for my brother?

'Yes, he's studying. Why?'

I wait anxiously for his response.

'He needs to be there when I say this. I'll explain later.'

'Can't you just tell me over text?'

'Some things have to be said in person.'

'Can you come to my house?' I knew for a fact that my brother wasn't leaving his den on a Sunday for me.

'I'll be their in 20 minutes.'

My heart thumps against my chest. Was he going to-

No. Then he would ask my dad.

And plus, he doesn't like me like that.

So why was he asking for my brother?

Let's get ourselves ready instead of overthinking.

I change into a white dress and put on a sage green sweater over it. Ilaria sure was leaving her mark on me.

I knock on my brothers door until I can hear him getting out of his bed.

The poor guy was probably asleep.

I was right as when he opens the door, his hair is a mess and his room is devoid of any light.

"What's up loser," he yawns. "And why would you wake me up in the middle of a nap. A very good nap, mind you."

"Omar's coming here," I say.

"Good for you," he yawns again as he closes the door. He seems to regain his consciousness and his brotherly protection halfway through because his door is opened again and his eyes are wide. "WHO'S COMING HERE?"

"Omar. He sent me a text saying he wanted to talk to me, but needed your presence?" I say this as simply as I can to not over-exaggerate the situation.

Ahmed blinks twice. "That son of a-"