15 ??Welcoming party??

LEIA

There was a welcoming party at our school tonight. I couldn't fathom why we had to have a party for the sole purpose that we were attending school again. It was clear that the rest of the class—or the entire school—did not share my views.

Apparently the girls had planned what they were going to wear months ago. The guys weren't any better. They were also discussing which clothes they were going to wear.

I mean, come on. Is there a man—a real man—left on this entire planet? I didn't get why men had to act like girls. I did not like that. Maybe others did.

I mean, sure, I liked a man who knew how to dress up well but blow-drying their hair and getting it styled? It was just . . . puke-worthy.

Was I the only one here who didn't want to attend this crazy event?

Hoor groaned next to me. "I'm not in the mood for a party. My head is throbbing already and all that music . . . ugh."

Thank God I wasn't the only one.

"It's our choice whether we want to attend it or not, right?"

She looked at me like I was crazy. "You're supposed to pay three thousand and that is, like, compulsory. If you don't come, you have to pay a fine and let's be honest, it's not like my parents grow money on trees." She laughed. "I totally just translated that from Urdu to English."

I smiled, already thinking about the money I had to pay. Damn, this school was expensive.

Hoor was still rambling, "I mean, why should we pay for an event? Did we ask them to hold it? No, right? And—" She halted in her tracks, greyish eyes wide.

I looked to the front and almost groaned. There they stood. All three of them.

Hoor grabbed my arm, angrily flipping back her perfect hair. She continued talking, walking past them and then—

"Hoor?"

"Leia?"

Zeeshan and Zayn both called at the same time. I turned my furrowed brows toward Hoor, silently asking her what her deal with Zeeshan was. Also, maybe I was trying to ignore Zayn completely.

Anas let out a low snort. "You both are pathetic. I wonder if Zayn would lose just like Zeesh did, eh?"

Zayn's shark-like eyes tightened. "You know I never lose."

Anas nodded, unconvinced. "Time will tell."

Hoor and I shared a disgusted look. They were doing nothing to hide the bet. Maybe they weren't openly talking about it but . . . ugh. Zayn was infuriating.

I gritted my teeth and shot Zayn a look that had him look a little guilty. It was a relief he wasn't a complete douchebag.

"Is it necessary to come to the party tonight?" I asked no one in particular. "I'm busy."

Zeeshan and Hoor seemed to be in a staring competition, completely ignoring me and Anas looked at Zayn as if waiting for him to answer.

"You don't come, you pay a fine. The choice is yours." Except, the look on his face told me I didn't have much of a choice. He would, no doubt, find a way to force me to go.

I hummed distractedly.

"So, are you coming or what?"

"I'll see."

My tone caused Zayn's lips to tighten. I noticed. Then looked away.

"Thirteen thousand," He said.

My head swiveled in his direction. "What?"

"If you don't come, that's how much you'll have to pay."

Okay . . . WHAT?

He must've noticed my expression because his lips lopsidedly curled upward in a debonair smile. "See you tonight."

I seethed out a breath after the group went. "Ugh. I hate him."

"You sure?" Hoor asked with a grin. "Because I'm pretty sure you have teensy tiny feelings for him. Don't you?"

"No," I outright denied. "Of course not. Zayn is . . . It's complicated."

She snorted.

"Please don't snort. It reminds me of Anas."

She laughed, swinging an arm around my shoulder. "So, what are you wearing then?"

"Clothes." I deadpanned.

She swatted me away. My weight was so less, I practically hit the wall. Dammit, why was I such a lightweight?

"Be serious."

I sighed. "I'll see what the worst thing in my cupboard is and will wear that."

"Oh my God, same! Thanks for the idea! It will be our way of defying the rules." She clapped her hands. "Now, I'm excited."

I wish I could say the same.

. . .

I got home by three o'clock and other than sleeping, I didn't feel like doing anything. Still, I showered because it was damn hot outside and my body was glistening with sweat. Then, I prayed the morning prayer and went to the kitchen in search of food.

Labeeb already stood there, his back to me. I softly placed my hand on his shoulder and turned him towards me.

"What's wrong?" I asked, seeing the look on his face. "Did something happen at school?"

He shook his head. "There's no food. Do you think Mom's memory is getting worse?"

I nervously chewed my bottom lip, not wanting to tell him that Mom didn't forget to make food; we just didn't have anything to make. The refrigerator and freezer were empty and so were the racks and cupboards.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

I smiled at him, ruffling his raven-coloured hair. "No, my love. You know how busy Mom is with her work so she must not have gotten the time to buy groceries."

His eyes were sad, downcast. "We also don't have that much money, am I right?"

"Of course we have money. Come on, get my car keys from the round table, we'll go get groceries right now."

"Really?" His smile was so dazzling, it warmed my heart.

I returned his smile and he went off to get the keys.

I still had half the money Ammar had sent in my account. But I knew we'd run out of it soon.

I trusted in God, though. When He had given me provision from places I couldn't imagine, I was sure He'd find something else from me after my divorce as well.

Once again, my stress was eased.

. . .

As promised, I took out the worst dress from my closet. Inspecting the black robe, I clicked my tongue. It wasn't plain, it had a trail of sequins down one arm and the entire length of the left side. It was Ammar's choice and simply horrible.

I hung it back inside and moved onto the next option: a black and beige silken robe with cute little flowers protruding from the waist up. It was cute and always suited me.

And I thought, what the hell. Why should I look bad when everyone would most definitely be looking pretty. I liked dressing up and wearing nice clothes and our religion didn't completely disregard that. Women liked to look pretty and as long as we knew our limits, we could work things out.

There was no doubt about the fact that I felt the most covered and comfortable in black. But since I went to a school with people like that, I knew wearing different colours was a better option. What if someone was struggling to wear what I wore and seeing me helped them out. What if I was the reason someone got influenced?

I stared at the robe for a minute straight.

"Well, then," I spoke to myself. "I choose you, oh beautiful dress."

"I can't believe you're talking to yourself."

I was surprised at the sound of Ammar's voice, forgetting momentarily that he was on call. He was in his office, lounging back in his chair and silently staring at me.

"Shouldn't you be working?" I queried.

"What can I say? You're distracting."

An involuntary emotion tugged at my heart. No matter what, compliments were always flattering.

I grinned. "Thanks,"

"Go get ready, now. Show the world how strong you are. Show them your defiance."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I don't wear a niqab because of defiance—it's for obedience to Allah."

"You know what I meant." He said.

I nodded. "Should I end the call? I have to get ready."

"No. Get changed and show me how you look."

I bit my lip. Wasn't it wrong knowing we'd get divorced next week and still letting him see me without coverage? It felt wrong.

"Okay," I agreed with him. Just a week more.

. . .

I arrived at Leroy High with my head held high and well . . . with my eyes trying not to bug out of their sockets.

With scantily dressed girls and guys having trouble keeping their hands to themselves, I was pretty sure I had stepped into an alternate universe. I considered turning on my heels—well, in this case, my Nikes—and leaving. I'd deal with Zayn, give him puppy eyes and tell him I wasn't going to pay fine. Because this excuse for an event wasn't worth three freaking thousand.

As if he'd care.

"You're here."

I whirled around to the sound of the voice and my breath caught in my lungs.

Zayn looked beautiful in a dark, sinister sort of way. His hair was gelled towards one side and his stubble looked darker than usual. Perhaps it was due to his three-piece grey suit. I had to literally force and beg my eyes to look away. Crap, I was crossing my bounds.

"Take a picture; it'll last longer."

I cleared my throat, glad he couldn't see the flood of colour that I was certain was on my face. "I . . . didn't pay yet," Great. Just change the subject, why don't you? "Who's collecting the money?"

He took a few steps towards me and to my utter surprise, he kept a proper distance. I couldn't have been more relieved. I was sure it was my way of dressing that didn't allow him to get too close.

"Whoever it is, you don't have to pay."

I was beyond confused. "What?"

He sighed. "Nothing. You just . . ." He pointed to the money I was clutching in a fist. "Put that away."

Just as I opened my mouth, music burst from the loudspeakers. Ouch. My ears.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, not at all liking the sound of the constant thud thud thud. It had been a long time since I'd listened to any form of music. Ammar liked to put it in his car but when I changed, he respected my choices and didn't play it in front of me. It was weird how people thought you couldn't live without music and now I felt like I would pass out just listening to it for two seconds. Kill me already. While the Qur'an calmed me, music simply stressed me out.

"I'm leaving," I announced.

"What?" Zayn shouted. "I can't hear you!"

"I AM LEAVING!"

I spun around and hunted for the doors I came in from. They were closed and two boys stood on guard. By the looks of it, they were students. They were there when I had entered, then why hadn't they taken money from me? They were clearly taking it from others.

I looked at Zayn, biting my lip in contemplation. Did he pay for me?

I really didn't want to think this way but damn, that was sweet. My insides melted to goo and I was sure my eyes were two big red hearts.

Time to leave.

I pushed my way through the crowd, not at all bothered by the fact that people were staring at me. I didn't know who looked and who didn't. I had the ability to blur out people and do what I was doing. It made life easier and you didn't have to constantly worry about what people would be thinking about you.

"Leia!"

I think I heard Zayn but I wasn't going to stop until I was in my car and away from this disgustingness. The longer I was in here, the more I felt myself withering away. I simply couldn't bear the music, the people, the air itself.

When I reached the gates, I signaled for the guys to open the door. When they didn't budge, I placed my hand over the handle and—

"Where are you going?"

Without turning back, I said, "Home. I came here and you paid. I guess that means everything's good. See you later." Or never.

Whether Zayn was surprised by the fact that I knew he paid for me or not, he didn't show. There was complete silence.

Ugh, why wasn't this door opening?

"Hassan," Zayn's voice was pure authority and it sent a shiver down my spine. "Unlock the door."

With a quick nod, Hassan did so and the humid yet clean air helped me breathe again. I strode toward the parking lot, feeling a little freaked out all of a sudden. It was dark and there was nobody I knew here. I quickly averted my eyes when I saw a couple making out. Suddenly furious, I felt like smashing one of the pretty cars to pieces. To think that these people were the future of this so-called Islamic country made me feel drained. I unlocked my car and sat inside, shutting the door. I think I actually breathed then, after what felt like years.

I inserted the keys into the side of the steering wheel and turned it on. The car buzzed to life but then it . . . unflared. It wasn't working. My car wasn't freaking working.

I stared at it in disbelief and then prayed for help.

A knock sounded on my door and I jumped out of my skin, screaming. It seemed my prayers were answered. I just wished it was someone other than Zayn.