Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 17 - We Meet Again...Unfortunately

Salam Salam! I uploaded...I don't even know if I'm late. Hey, so can I ask for a favor? Can you guys provide feedback and vote and fan? I would really love to make it into top 10 for Spiritual stories and top 100 for humor. So, please? The last time everyone commented and whatnot, I was at #29 for Spiritual and #109 for Humor.

"You suck, you know that, best friend?" -- Noha Ali, Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 17

We Meet Again...Unfortunately

☻ Noha Ali ☻

            I wake up at eight o’clock Saturday morning. I can’t pray this week, but I still like the quiet that waking up early offers. I gather my hair up in a ponytail and pad to the bathroom, feeling pretty awesome in my snowman pajamas. I look left and right when I leave my room; no one is in the hallway.

            Adam’s door is completely closed and Rubina and Dawud sleep on the other side of the den. Instead of walking, I dance down the hallway to the beat of “Sexy and I Know It” by LMFAO to fully wake myself up. Just when I’m about to bust an awesome move, I’m interrupted by a disgruntled voice exclaiming, “Noha, what the hell are you doing?!”

            I freeze; Rubina’s rubbing her eyes and glaring at me. My cheeks flame up. “Nothing. God, what are you even doing up, Bina? Seriously, it’s like eight in the morning.”

            Muttering incoherently underneath her breath, Rubina just shakes her head and walks into the bathroom. I groan; now I’ll have to wait a good fifteen minutes. I make my way over to Dawud and Rubina’s bathroom, hoping that Dawud’s not in there.

            He isn’t, but when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I feel like banging my head against the wall. Because on my chin is a huge zit, totally noticeable even from a distance. I groan and try not to be too dramatic about it. Today is not going to be a look-good day for me.

            I make a face at the mirror and go about my daily routine, hoping that the zit will be gone by the end of the day. A girl can hope.

            Downstairs, I quietly make myself some breakfast. Rubina went back to sleep – I still have no idea why she chose to use my bathroom. I shake my head as I wonder; preteen girls are so weird.

            After I’m done with breakfast and after I straighten out the house a little, I realize that it is nine-thirty. I have to meet the Joshua Stralsund guy at the library at ten-fifteen. I opted for texting him as opposed to calling. If he was Player Josh from the mall, I would at least like to preserve my sanity until I met him and had to face the facts.

            I think back to my parents’ reaction when I told them I had to meet his guy. My father, of course, went into protective father mode at the mention of a boy, let alone a non-Muslim one (not that he would have been any less protective at the mention of a Muslim boy).

My mother, for a split second, thought I was interested in meeting this boy outside of school. When I brought it up at dinner, she nearly choked on her water. “Why would you want to meet this boy, Noha?! It’s not…acceptable.”

I groaned. “Ma, I don’t want to meet this boy.”

She looked at me with a bewildered expression. “Then why are you asking for our permission to meet him at the library?!”