Love from a to Z

by S. K. Ali

  There was a second great thing too. I kept calling out Rosie’s racism, as well as other, lower-level shenanigans, in gym class, relentlessly, not caring about my gym grade.

  So relentlessly that, even though she was amazingly good, she didn’t make the basketball team in February, getting a rep for “poor attitude.” And although her problem was bigger than that, I so loved benching her. Literally.

  Now Kavi was sticking up for me?

  • • •

  Okay, but it just feels sad. That I can’t know stuff.

  As soon as we have something concrete, I’ll alert you, okay?

  I didn’t reply to Kavi.

  I feel sad. Thinking of you sad over there.

  I didn’t reply again. Because Kavi was right.

  So I’m going to tell you one thing only then: Noemi found out Fencer’s alias.

  Ayaan found that out ages ago. @Sittingducksrevolt.

  No, that was his old one. Deleted, remember?

  There’s a new one?

  Yep. Before he got Ayaan in trouble, he scrubbed his presence, the old one.

  Noemi found something else?

  @StoneWraith14

  Weird.

  Yeah. A wraith is a ghost.

  A wispy one, according to Google.

  It’s kind of scary. Him disappearing online to come back . . . as a ghost.

  How did Noemi find out his handle?

  She’s super smart. Something Margolis said about this book Fencer wanted to write about gargoyles made her search everything connected to it.

  That’s weird luck.

  Anyways, forget Fencer. Are you having fun? What are you up to?

  Ya, it’s low-key fun. I’m just doing whatever. My aunt’s working during the day, so I just do my own thing. Like today I got gifts for you.

  I miss you. I love you. I like you. More than Noemi. Way more.

  I smiled. I like you way more than Noemi too.

  A SECOND MARVEL: HUGS

  Exhibit A: Auntie Nandy.

  By the time Auntie Nandy got home—at eleven o’clock (must have been some serious meeting!)—the luggage I’d come to Doha with had been completely emptied and repacked with Souq Waqif gifts, my laundry was put away neatly in drawers, my Instagram was updated, my room was superclean, I’d prayed Isha and read Qur’an, and I was on my second episode of Sweet Tooth. I’d seen cupcakes with real-looking candy plants sprouting from them, a dollhouse cake, and unbelievable floating desserts that burst like fireworks.

  After letting herself in, Auntie Nandy came right over to the couch I was sitting on, without dropping her purse or schoolbag, and hugged me. It was a supertight hug even for Auntie Nandy, who had a reputation for tight hugs. I sunk into it, surrendering willingly. In gratitude.

  She held on for a long time.

  “You’re amazing, okay?” She let go of my shoulders and her bags, and sat down beside me.

  “You are amazing too, Auntie Nandy.” I wasn’t surprised by the sudden hug. It was very Auntie Nandy, but today it hit the spot of sadness that I thought I’d shoved deep inside. I blinked away the sudden teary burst of emotion the hug had unleashed and got up from the sofa. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  “Yes. Chips. And pop.” She smiled sheepishly, kicking off her shoes. “I just want to eat a big bag of chips and drink fizzy sugar.”

  “What? You don’t even have such stuff in the apartment. I know. I spent almost an hour trying to find some the other day!” I advanced to the kitchen. “I’ll get you some good food. I’m sure there’s something in the fridge. Remember you were cleaning out your toxins?”

  “No. Go to my room. In the closet there’s a big, blue plastic bin. It’s not too heavy, so you can pull it out here.”

  I was perplexed but followed her instructions, dragging the blue Rubbermaid bin behind me to set it at her feet in the living room.

  She opened it up to reveal various junk foods and cans of pop.

  “Choose your poison,” she announced.

  I chose a bag of Doritos. She picked out a can of Pepsi and another bag of Doritos, different flavor. “Pop?” she offered, holding out a can of Pepsi.

  I accepted it, slightly worried about her. “Did something happen, Auntie Nandy? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” She tore open the bag of chips. “Just taking it easy tomorrow. I decided to take a day off of work, early start to spring break.”

  “Oh, yay! Does that mean we can go to Katara?”

  “No, Zoodles, I’ll be home but busy. We’ll have to do Katara another day.” Auntie Nandy crunched chips and looked at me for a while, like she was considering me. “I’m sorry it hasn’t been a fun trip for you so far, Zayneb.”

  “No, it’s been good.” I shrugged. I did like chilling here.

  “But you’ve been mostly stuck in this apartment.”

  “No I haven’t. I went to the mall, went to a shelter, went to a zoo, went swimming, went to Souq Waqif two times. Actually, it will be three times, because I’m meeting the Emmas there tomorrow.” I took a swig of my Pepsi. “That’s a lot of stuff!”

  Auntie Nandy sat up. “When are you going to the souk tomorrow?”

  “One o’clock.”

  “Perfect. I have a meeting at that time. If you get back home from the souk by four, I can see if we can go somewhere fun together in the evening. Maybe go eat dinner on the Pearl.”

  “Oh, that would be amazing!” The Pearl was this man-made island with a gorgeous waterfront all the way around it. Mom was always showing me pictures that Auntie Nandy would post, eating at different fancy restaurants or shopping at high-end boutiques there.

  “I’ll take you to my favorite French restaurant.” She crunched more chips and laughed. “But today, let’s eat good ol’-fashioned junk. Just don’t tell your mom, okay?”

  I nodded and put my head on her shoulder and turned up the volume on Sweet Tooth, intent on recharging myself with more of Auntie Nandy’s warmth.

  ODDITY: JEALOUSY, THE TINY KIND

  Exhibit A: Kavi doing stuff with Noemi.

  I lay in bed, and it wouldn’t leave me. That feeling of fear mixed with sadness.

  I should have known they were getting tight when Noemi had shown up in our—Kavi’s and my—Situation Room at the library.

  When I get back home after this Doha trip, they’ll have even more stories—not just on Instagram—between them, more stuff I wasn’t a part of, and maybe more stuff I won’t understand. An image of them laughing together, while I stood by, flashed in my head.

  Like the inside art joke about Noemi’s locker.

  I didn’t get it.

  I didn’t like it.

  • • •

  I don’t like that other thing either, but it isn’t in any sense close to what I’m feeling about Kavi and Noemi—of course and completely.

  In fact, if I think about it, it’s the exact opposite of Kavi and Noemi.

  Noemi is the one infringing on me and Kavi.

  But in the second case, I’m the interloper.

  I’m the one who thought of the possibility of us two when there was already a pair there.

  Adam and Emma Phillips.

  • • •

  Wow.

  I need to retreat all the way to the old me. The one who doesn’t get so hot and bothered by stupid stuff like this.

  I’m someone who gets consumed by stuff. It engulfs me, wraps me up in its embrace, and doesn’t let me be until I’ve deal with it.

  I sat up in bed.

  I don’t like getting consumed by things like jealousy and . . . lust.

  Yet I want to get consumed. Because I like winning. I like things getting dealt with.

  Like the high I got when Auntie Nandy took on Marc and won.

  Maybe I need something to take on all the time. That I can actually win.

  That’s actually good to win. Because it isn’t just for me.

  “Winning” Adam, or even Kavi, isn’t going to make the world a
better place. And it involves their feelings.

  Yeah, let people be however they want to be, Zayneb. Your high can come from something else.

  I smiled. Today was supposed to be for victories, and this was another one.

  I’m going to be me.

  I’m not going to back down from Fencer. I’m going to out him myself.

  Kavi and Noemi can do all they want over there. Find information, help Ayaan, become friends, fall more for each other, whatever.

  I have everything I need right here in Doha: @StoneWraith14.

  And the ability to investigate online deep into the night.

  ADAM

  THURSDAY, MARCH 14

  ODDITY: JUSTIFIED ENDS

  I WOKE UP TO THE unusual scenario of actual voice calls—two of them—happening simultaneously. My phone, on the dresser, was ringing as Connor stood by my bed, nudging me awake, holding out his phone. He’d opted to sleep on the floor of the guest room I stayed in, in case I needed anything.

  His arm was now across his stomach, holding the top of the sleeping bag that was encasing his legs. He must have hopped over with it like some kind of weird, bouncy caterpillar.

  I can see the colors of the plaid lining the sleeping bag. Red, green, and white.

  I blinked hard. My vision was clearing.

  I wasn’t seeing through a dense layer of jelly.

  Instead, things were only slightly blurry.

  I felt an immense wave of gratitude rising inside.

  “It’s Ms. Raymond on here. And . . .” Connor paused and, after I’d taken his phone, hopped over to the dresser to glance at my phone. He continued, “Your sister, Hanna, on your phone. She’s calling on FaceTime.”

  I muted Ms. Raymond’s call and shook my head, the euphoria backing up. “No, don’t pick up. I’ll call her later. When I’m more ready.”

  “She’s sending angry emojis.”

  I shook my head again and unmuted the phone. “Hi, Ms. Raymond?”

  “How are you, Adam?”

  “Better. My vision’s much better. Feeling better too. I’m still in bed, though.”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better and resting. I’ve been thinking about you all night,” she said. “I’m also readying everything for you to get your IV here. I was thinking, I can come pick you up around twelve thirty? The nurse is scheduled to come by at one thirty. I thought if you got here early, you’ll have time to get comfortable, get ready.”

  “Sure. Though Connor told me he’d drop me, so I don’t think you need to worry about picking me up. That okay, Connor?” I asked, as Connor settled back into his spot on the floor, bunching a pillow before placing his head on it.

  I can see each polka dot on the pillow. Brown and pink.

  “Yep.” He nodded, then lifted and bent his arms into upside-down Vs to cradle his head. He looked at the ceiling. “We’re hanging out at the souk for lunch, so it’s on my way.”

  “Yeah, he’ll drop me. He’s going to Souq Waqif.”

  “That’s the other thing. I didn’t know how you’d feel if Zayneb, my niece, was home while you got your treatment, but I found out she’ll be out, at the souk as well. So no worries on that front.”

  That had entered my brain briefly. But I hadn’t let it bother me too much, because, really, if she saw me with an IV drip, she would be just another stranger who knew I had MS.

  She must be hanging around with the DIS crew a lot. To be going to the souk with them today.

  Must be going dune bashing with them this weekend, too.

  I didn’t need perfect vision to imagine her eyes widening at the beauty of the desert. At the way the dunes rippled, visual echoes of one another as far as the eye could see, varying shades of orangey brown.

  She’d be moved. And have fun. With everyone.

  The euphoria deflated further.

  “Okay, I’ll be at your place at one then.” I paused. “Thanks again, Ms. Raymond.”

  I wanted to say more to her but not now.

  Connor’s a caring guy, but he wouldn’t get that I wanted to say, Thanks for filling in for Mom like only her best friend would.

  • • •

  I succumbed to FaceTiming Hanna, first checking my actual face in the phone’s camera. Checking if she’d be able to tell something was going on with me.

  I looked sort of normal, only slightly puffier.

  “WHERE ARE YOU, ADAM?” She’d been sitting at the kitchen table when she answered, but with a jolt, she stood up with her hands on her hips, wearing a frown under front bangs that were more askew than usual. I could see the edges of Stillwater on the chair beside her. “THIS IS NOT FAIR! YOU’RE ALWAYS WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND NOT YOUR FAMILY. YOU’RE. BEING. MEAN!”

  Connor chuckled from the floor.

  “Whoa, I’m coming home. Around three o’clock, maybe four,” I reassured her.

  She sat back down. “Then can we go to the new exhibit?”

  “What exhibit?”

  “The one I told you about! The Rare Jewels of an Empire exhibit? At the museum?”

  I remembered. She’d talked about it the day I arrived. When I gave her the azurite.

  She’d said she wanted to check the display and then go shopping at the museum shop to add the special rocks connected to the exhibit to her rock collection.

  “Oh, yeah. Okay. But not today.” I scanned my brain. I had to come up with something. “Let’s go Sunday.”

  My treatments will be done by then, and I will have had one extra day to rest. Maybe I’ll feel better enough to walk around the Museum of Islamic Art?

  “Why can’t we go today? I thought you were coming to Doha to visit me. Do things with me. And to do things with Dad, too, cause he wants to come to the exhibit too! At least he agreed to it!” She stood back up, her hands finding their way to her hips again.

  But then she sat down abruptly, grabbing Stillwater into her lap. I could see her face beginning to crumble.

  Hanna rarely cried, so I was surprised. “Hanna? I can’t go today, but it’s not because of my friends. Hey, don’t cry.”

  She buried her face into the top of Stillwater’s black-and-murky-white head. He stared at me un-panda-like, with weighty disapproval, loyalty to Hanna his first duty.

  Connor stood up and dropped his sleeping bag, revealing Pikachu boxers, with Poké Balls down the front. I frowned at the sight.

  “Gift from Nancy, my ex-TA,” he whispered. “My hot girlfriend, Nancy?”

  I frowned again and looked back at Stillwater. Hanna’s face had completely disappeared from view.

  Connor came and knelt down by the bed, behind my phone. “So I don’t scare her,” he said quietly to me. “With my Pokémon boxers. Play along, buddy.”

  He then raised his voice, off camera. “Hey, Adam, what are you doing, man? Why you on your phone? I thought you were going to hang with us? We’re going to Souq Waqif this afternoon.”

  I tilted my head. I didn’t know where this was going. “Nah, I can’t.”

  “Why? You’ve been in Doha almost a week, and we never see you, man. You’ve been working on that room downstairs in your house all the time.”

  The top of Hanna’s head emerged a tiny bit from Stillwater’s fur.

  Whatever it was that Connor was doing—it was working. “Listen, I gotta finish that room. It’s like this thing my mom made with me a long time ago, a house and garden in a jar. This is like that but different, too, because it’s bigger. It’s a world in a room.”

  Hanna’s head lifted a bit more, and, from the floor by the bed, Connor made a confused face. He had no idea what I was talking about.

  But Hanna did.

  “That’s why I’m so busy, man. I gotta find the right bits, make the right pieces, gotta go to Al Rawnaq, the different store locations to find special parts.” Which I have done this trip, so it isn’t completely a lie.

  Connor nodded. “Oh, you mean that store with the stuff to make things? Like paint and stuff? Kind of like a hardware
store?”

  “Yeah, I’m trying to finish it up over spring break. The room . . . it’s going to be amazing.”

  “But what about us? Your friends, man? When’re we gonna see you?”

  “Well, not this weekend, for sure.”

  “What? We’re going dune bashing this weekend. You can’t miss that!”

  “Oh, wait. Let me check something.” I looked back at the screen. I could see the entirety of Hanna’s eyes now, atop Stillwater’s head. “Hey, Hanna, are we going to the museum on Sunday? You, me, and Dad?”

  She nodded. I smiled. “Nope, sorry, Connor. I’ve got plans on Sunday. The Special Empire Rocks exhibit to see.”

  At this affront, Hanna’s entire face emerged until her chin rested on Stillwater, squishing his brow fur into his eyes so much, he looked like an angry panda. “It’s not called Special Empire Rocks. It’s the Rare Jewels of an Empire exhibit!”

  “Yeah, Adam, the Rare Jewels of an Empire exhibit!” Connor stood up, swallowing a laugh.

  He disappeared into the bathroom.

  He was pretty cool.

  • • •

  I spent the rest of the morning sitting by Connor as he gamed, answering his questions about my diagnosis in between the intense rounds of battle onscreen.

  After the phone call with Hanna, I’d made it to his room with pretty steady steps.

  With this and Hanna’s sadness being diffused, the euphoria had returned.

  I knew the doctor had said it would take a few days for the symptoms of my attack to potentially clear, and that one or two would continue reoccurring, even after the rounds of steroids, but I felt better.

  Mostly because there was a way to deal with it.

  And maybe because more people, people who weren’t strangers, knew about it.

  • • •

  The nurse asked if I was comfortable before she inserted the needle for the IV drip.

  I answered yes truthfully.

  Ms. Raymond has been in the same apartment for as long as she’s been in Doha, and I’d been over to visit it with Mom many times.

  Sitting in the black leather club chair, the one that was always diagonally placed—in between the sofa and the sliding door to the balcony—was comfortable.