She Wore Red Trainers (22 page)

I kept quiet. What would be gained by admitting my feelings? But one look at Usamah's face and I knew that I didn't have to admit anything – he already knew. I expected him to tease me, like Mahmoud would have, but he didn't. Instead, his expression grew serious and he fixed me with his gaze.

‘You really like her, don't you, akh?'

I nodded. ‘Yeah,' I breathed at last. ‘I do…'

‘OK, that's cool… Do you know what you like about her?'

I laughed. ‘Everything, man! She's amazing: so talented, unique, interesting…'

Usamah frowned. ‘Y'all been in contact, like, in private?'

‘No, no… nothing like that. I… I've bumped into her a few times… at summer school, here on the close… nothing major. To be honest, I wasn't even sure she knew who I was until I saw her painting…'

‘Her what?'

‘This.' I grabbed my phone turning it around so that Usamah could see the picture that flashed up.

Both his eyebrows shot up this time. ‘Woah. You sure those are your hands, though?'

I didn't say anything, just held both my hands up for
him to look at. He nodded, looking back and forth between the picture and my hands. ‘Yup, looks like she got them memorised, bro.' Then he frowned. ‘So she's never given you any other sign, any hint that she… well, likes you?'

‘Well, I thought that she did… we bumped into each other a couple of times… but then she went all funny and started ignoring me. Then I heard about this Hassan dude… To be honest, Usamah, I don't know how she feels. But, at the end of the day, there isn't anything official between us, is there? And Zayd won't even give me the time of day, where she is concerned…' I frowned, thinking about how Amy and I must have looked, standing at my door together. Zayd didn't seem like the kind of guy to make too many excuses for you if he caught you in such a compromising position.

Usamah stared at me. ‘You tried to speak to him about his sister? Even after I told you how he feels about that kind of thing?' He shook his head. ‘Bro, you crazy.'

‘What was I supposed to think? I see this painting and I'm thinking she must have mentioned something to Zayd. Boy, was I wrong! He almost ate me for breakfast!'

Usamah was quiet for a moment, looking at me. Then a wicked gleam appeared in his eye and he leaned forward in his seat. ‘Yo, man, what if Zayd is your test?'

‘Huh?'

‘Well, you really like this girl, right? And Zayd's kind of acting like the gatekeeper, right? Maybe you need to face your fears and take him on. Make him listen to you.'

‘You're saying I need to man up?'

He chuckled. ‘I guess that's another way to say it. But, yo, don't be bothering him if you ain't serious!'

‘Serious? What do you mean?'

‘You see that brother, Hassan? He's a brother who's serious. He knows what he wants and he's going about it the halal way. Unlike some people…'

I held up my hands. ‘Hey, I haven't done anything wrong! I've been really careful to keep my dealings with her strictly halal – I'm not interested in sinning here…'

‘Then what
are
you interested in, Ali? Why've you got this picture in your phone? Why you still thinking about her? What's with this fixation?'

‘Look, Usamah, I don't know why I can't stop thinking about her. OK, so, at first, it was a physical thing, I'll admit it…' I looked down at the mole on my left hand. ‘But it's more than that now. I feel a connection there. I've seen little sparks of her personality and I can't help myself: I want to know more. What can I say? I guess I'm curious about her, you know?'

‘Yup,' Usamah pressed his lips together. ‘And curiosity killed the cat.'

But there was more than curiosity there. I felt drawn to Amirah, as if we were kindred spirits. Amirah had been playing on my mind like a soundtrack on repeat and it was only the
deen
that was keeping me from going up to her and asking her out. Sure, plenty of Muslim boys would do that – no regrets – but I wasn't about to compromise her principles or mine like that. How can you expect Allah to bless something if you don't fear Him while you're going after it?

‘Yo, man, I ain't saying that you've been involved in anything haram. I ain't saying that. What I am saying is that you need to start thinking like a Muslim, like a
mu'min
. You know the deal: one track. If you're serious, then we talking marriage. Now, you've told me that you dig this girl, and that's
real cute, but you haven't told me anything about her that makes me think ‘wife material'. Is she wife material? Would you want to wake up with her every morning, for the rest of your life? Would you want her to be the mother of your kids? Those are the questions you gotta answer before you decide which way to go forward.'

I stayed silent for a moment, stirring the pancake batter. Did I see myself waking up with Amirah every morning? Definitely. I could definitely see that.

Would she make a good mother? I smiled as I thought of how tender she had been with Abdullah on that first day of summer school. She had seemed so loving, so maternal. Yes, I did think she would make a good mother.

‘OK…' I said slowly, turning the idea over in my head. ‘Suppose I did think she would make a good mother. What else should I consider?'

‘
Deen
, of course. The Prophet
sallallahu alayhi wa sallam
said that a woman is married for four things: her beauty, her lineage, her wealth and her
deen
– you know which one to go for, right?'

I thought about that for a minute. ‘Well, she's practising, I know that…'

‘And it ain't about the hijab, bro. Don't let that fool you…'

‘No, I know that she comes from a practising home.'

‘Well, if you're serious, you would have to find out more about her from her friends, people she works with and all that. But on a real tip: how would your dad feel about all this? I mean, you're meant to be going to university in a couple of months, right?'

I shook my head. ‘That's another problem,' I said. ‘My priorities have changed so much. I mean, I don't even want
to study Law anymore! I used to be attracted to the prestige – and the money. But now, I want different things. I want to make a difference in people's lives. I want to live each day. Being a lawyer isn't doing it for me.'

‘Your dad…'

‘Don't mention him, please. I haven't even plucked up the courage to tell him. But I have been doing some research, though. I spoke to my old school friend, Pablo, about spending a year working in Mexico. We volunteered at a school for the deaf there, while we were at school, and Pablo kept in contact with them. He put me in touch with the directors and they've said they will consider it. And my grandmother thinks it's a great idea.' I smiled. Nana had even agreed to loan me the money for the airfare.

‘And there are Muslims in Mexico. I could work with them, as well…'

‘Sounds like you got it all figured out.'

‘Well, it's just a dream at the moment… something I would love to do. But I don't think my dad will go for it, to be honest. It will all sound crazy to him.'

‘Hmmm, so what about you hooking up with Amirah then?'

I shuddered. ‘That's where things could get really sticky. Dad's never been a fan of early marriage, especially not on his tab. And if I'm planning on living abroad… what about her plans for university and stuff?'

Usamah considered this. ‘Well, you could definitely work something out with Amirah and her folks – maybe you could get engaged and she stay here? Or she could take a year out, too? You just need to start having this conversation.'

‘OK. I'll do it.'

‘
Bismillah
, bro, go for it. You ain't got nothing to lose and you've got everything to gain, you know what I mean?'

‘Yeah, bro, I do.'

‘Hey, what about if Amirah's family don't want her to marry some footloose kid living in the barrios of Mexico?'

I smiled to myself and watched as the butter sizzled in the pan. ‘Something tells me Amirah would be just fine with that plan.'

42

Everyone in the house was ecstatic. Hassan's proposal had swept my disappointing exam results under the carpet and no one spoke about them.

Except my stepfather, of course. ‘So, looks like you'll be sticking around, eh, Amirah? Got your little wake-up call, eh?' He waggled a finger at me. ‘It doesn't pay to go thinking you're better than everyone else, yeah.'

He was silent for a moment, then he looked at me sideways. ‘This brother, Hassan. He's quite sweet on you, isn't he?'

I swallowed hard and said nothing. What was he getting at? Why was he bringing Hassan into this?

‘Tell me, Amirah, have you told him about your past. All those little secrets of yours? Hmm?'

I frowned and shook my head, backing away from him.

‘Oh, no,' he smiled. ‘Tsk, tsk. You really should come clean, don't you think? I mean, imagine if your student of knowledge husband found out later that you were really a dirty little…'

I had already pushed past him and was running down the stairs, covering my ears to block out his disgusting words. I didn't stop until I was out of the front door, the evening
air cool on my flushed face. I realised that my teeth were chattering.

How I hated him.

I don't know how long I stayed out there, sitting in the back garden, but it was long enough to overhear him talking to Zayd, in that fake ‘serious and concerned' tone of voice.

‘I think the brother has the right to know, Zayd,' he was saying. ‘You would want to, if it was you.'

‘Want to know what, exactly?' I heard the edge of irritation in Zayd's voice.

‘That your sister's been around. You know? That she's got a
past
, innit?'

‘What
is
it with you and my sister? This thing has nothing to do with you. I'm Amirah's guardian, not you, and I can take care of this.
Jazakallah khayran
.'

‘I'm just trying to advise you, Zayd. Because if you don't tell him, someone else might.'

Later that night, Zayd came into my room, asking to speak to me.

‘How do you feel about Hassan knowing stuff about your past, Ams? About the time you ran away?'

I felt my heartbeat quicken. ‘Does he have to know, Zee?'

Zayd ran his hands over his head. ‘I don't know, sis. I mean, he knows that something happened because I had to leave Saudi. But he doesn't know any details.' Zayd rubbed his eyes and sighed. ‘You're my sister, Ams. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you. But he's my friend, y'know? I don't think it's right to be less than honest with him from the beginning. So that there are no surprises along the way… am I making any sense?'

I bit my lip. ‘D-do you think it will change things? Like,
will it put him off?'

Zayd didn't look at me. ‘Inshallah, it won't,' he said shortly. ‘Do you want to tell him or shall I?'

‘You tell him, Zee. I don't think I could do it…'

‘I'll speak to him in the week, inshallah,' said Zayd. And I noticed that his footsteps were heavy as he left the room.

All I could do was sit and wait and pray.

***

I went to the
masjid
that weekend. There was a seminar entitled ‘Trusting in Allah' and I thought that was something I needed to understand a lot better.

All the girls were there, as well as the usual
masjid
aunties. One of the girls, Sumayyah, was one of the first of us teenagers to get married, the previous year, and now she had a gorgeous four-month-old little boy, Yasir, whom I had unofficially adopted. He had grown even cuter and more edible since the last time I had seen him and I spent most of the first session cuddling him and playing peekaboo.

‘Hmm, are you here to seek knowledge or babysit?' asked Samia, giving me a look.

I stuck my tongue out at her. ‘Preferably both. It's a very useful skill, my dear, so don't be a hater.'

‘You may need those skills sooner than you think, huh?' Rania nudged me. ‘What's the deal with the brother, Hassan?'

‘To be honest, I kind of feel like I'm sleepwalking into this whole thing.'

‘I don't like the sound of that,' said Samia.

‘Well, he seems keen and he's basically proposed through
Zayd.' I shut my eyes and tried not to think of my childhood dreams – the ones where the man declares that he can't bear to live without you and sweeps you off your feet to live a dream life happily ever after.

I sighed again and looked at the two of them. ‘He says I'm a nice sister. That he thinks I will make a good wife. Yadda yadda yadda…'

Rania wrinkled up her nose. ‘Oh, I see…'

‘It's that whole ‘cookie cutter wife' thing, I suppose,' I continued. ‘I tick boxes, as far as he is concerned.'

‘So, no talk of uni, then…'

‘He didn't give me a chance, to be honest! He's very sure of himself, very confident. And, boy, can he talk!'

‘But wait, you mean you haven't even told him that you still want to go to uni? That you want a career?'

I squirmed in my seat. ‘He never gave me a chance…' I squeaked. ‘Besides, the whole family seems to have taken it for granted that it's going to go ahead.'

Rania frowned at me. ‘I want you to stop the pathetic victim act, OK?' she snapped. ‘I mean, whose life is this? Yours or theirs? Amirah, if you go into this without being really clear on what you want and who you really are, you will regret it for the rest of your life.' And she took a sip of her juice. ‘And I will never forgive you.'

I took a deep breath. ‘Look, I've been through a lot in the last few weeks and, just when I thought things were going to finally get easier, they've just become more complicated. Maybe uni isn't for everyone. Maybe it's fate for me to get married now. Yeah, sure, I would love to paint, study, travel and settle down with my soulmate who will totally get me. Of course I want to have a life of fun and adventure and all that
stuff we read about. But maybe that just isn't realistic for girls like us.' I shrugged. ‘For girls like me, anyway.'