15.

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"One of the Salaf said, 'If this world does not cry for you (upon departing), then the Hereafter will not smile for you.'
فَمَا بَكَتْ عَلَيْهِمُ السَّمَاءُ وَالْأَرْضُ وَمَا كَانُوا مُنظَرِينَ
"And the heaven and earth wept not for them, nor were they reprieved." [al-Dukhan: 29]"

"You want to go get some ice cream?" Fadwah asks, playing Piano Tiles on her phone and getting mad because she can't pass one hundred.

"Are you crazy? It's like thirty degrees outside." I reply, grabbing the phone from her and playing.

"So," She pauses. "Is that a yes?"

I get off the bed and speed walk to my coat. "Duh." We laugh and head out, niqabis in infinity scarves. Cute ones, might I add.

"What do you plan on getting?"

"The usual vanilla."

"Vanilla gets boring after a while. You don't want to try something new?"

"Not really." I shrug, shivering at the cold wind.

"I want to try something new. Probably mix flavors together."

"You want to eat here?" We head into the ice cream place and she orders bubble gum and chocolate ice cream topped with mini cookies.

"Nah, let's take it to go, that way we can eat it while watching Boy Meets World over and over again." She squeals with excitement.

"Alright, Ms. Crazy." I order vanilla with caramel swirls and add brownie bites. After taking our orders to go, we race eachother back to her house.

"I won! Ha!"

"Alright, don't gas yourself now."

"Ew, Yasmeen, don't go all New Yorker on me."

"Whatever." I laugh. I plop down on her bed and she puts on Netflix. And now the episodes begin.

"Are you sleeping over again?"

I think of going back to that house and having to see Zane again. I just can't do it right now. "Yeah. I'll go back home tomorrow in sha Allah."

"Alright," She pauses the episode. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean what's going on? Press play."

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"We're not watching anything until you tell me what's going on."

"Nothing's going on!" I raise my hands in the air. This is so aggravating.

"You of all people know that lying is haram, Yassy."

I sigh. "I don't know how to say this." I rub at my face.

"Is it about your parents?"

"No," I shake my head vigorously. "It's not them. It's Zane."

"What'd he do?" She sits up and faces me. "Do I need to go over there and teach him a lesson?"

I can't help but smile at that. I love this girl. She's the best friend I could ever ask for. "Pretty much Ummi and Maryam want us to have a Nikah, that way I don't have to cover in front of him anymore and it'll be easier and all."

"Just the Nikah?" Her face changes to one of surprise and slight worry.

"Yeah, the wedding will still be after school finishes. But I don't know about all of this."

"Why wouldn't you want to be with him, though? He's charming, handsome with stunning looks, he's pretty much like a celebrity. Any girl would kill to be with him."

"But where's his deen? And I can't even judge his character because we don't even know each other properly. And from what I've seen, he's just a bad boy jerk who thinks he can get any girl with just one wink."

"But that's all he knows to be, Yas."

"Exactly my point! And it's like he's not even practicing. I want a man who can teach me, not a man who doesn't even know the first pillar of Islam."

"He can change for you." She winks.

"Yeah, I highly doubt that. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy."

"I disagree. I believe he can."

"Then why don't you go for him. You'd make my life much easier."

"Because you two are meant to be together."

"What are you on about, Fadwah?"

"Trust me," She looks at me knowingly. "You're both meant for each other, you just don't know it yet. And I'll be there to tell you I told you so."

"Whatever you say. Now can we please watch Boy Meets World?"

She laughs and clicks play. We watch a few seasons and stretch. We get up, make wudhu, and pray asr together.

"Don't we have Quran classes today?" I ask.

"Yeah, and it starts in like fifteen. We have to go now." We dress in what we wore earlier, infinity scarves, niqabs, coats and all, and leave. She drives fast enough for us to make it there just in time without getting a ticket.

"Assalamu Alaykum." We say in unison and take our seats in the class. Technically it was two classes. One side was for the guys who were taught by the second imam of the masjid. The left side was for the girls who were taught by his wife.

Sister Aisha returns the salaams and proceeds to finish helping the girl to her right. "I could've sworn I saw Mahad checking me out when I walked in."

"Lower your gaze, would you?" I scowl.

"I was!" She retorts.

"Oh yeah? Then how'd you know he was looking, then? Exactly."

She huffs and turns to her book. I look down at mine. I had already read the whole Quran during Ramadan, alhamdulillah, but now I was trying to re-memorize my favorite surah, Ar Rahman. It always reminded me of Allah and how we, as Muslims, take advantage of His Mercy. It always seemed to make me cry.

Hours of reciting, memorizing, and being checked later, we pray Maghrib and head back to Fadwah's house, with her gushing the whole time and swearing up and down that Mahad definitely was checking her out and how happy she was he could tell her apart from all the other niqabis.

"Alright," She says after we head in, give salaams, stay in the living room for chats a bit, and head upstairs. "You never told me about your first love."

"Ya Allah," I cover my face. I was hoping this moment wouldn't come this soon. I was hoping for at least another few seventy or eighty years from now.

"Where's Hudhaifah?" I try and change the subject.

She raises an eyebrow at me but answers anyway. "I heard my parents mention he was at another sit down tonight. Why?" Another sit down? He's had more than one? I can feel my heart hurting. What if he's found who he thinks is the one? Will I be able to look at him and his wife being lovey dovey and knowing that I secretly wished it was me? Ya Rabb, please give me the strength.

"No reason. Just didn't see him so I asked."

"Oooookay. But tell me now."

"I don't know if I should." I say uneasily.

"Why not? Just spit it out. I won't judge."

"It's uh,"

"Wait it's not Mahmoud is it? He's always saying weird things. And the way he dresses, don't even get me started. Wait I said I wouldn't judge, okay go ahead."

"Fadwah it's-"

"Gosh I hope it isn't him."

"It's Hudhaifah! I love Hudhaifah!" I blurt out before she can say anything else and shock myself.

The Perks of Having a Nikah (A Muslim Love Story) *BACK 2023*Where stories live. Discover now