by S. Nahar
Chapter 16
Observing Beauty
Damon Winters
I tapped my pencil against the scratched desk with rapid rhythm mumbling against a wooden surface, following the ticks from our clock. Sighing, I leaned back; borderline insane from the slow ticking of a clock, telling me that time was just as slow as my mind was processing it.
We were currently in science class taking a test and I finished early as usual, but I still had a lot of time left. I looked at Amira across the room. She was writing fast, and kept looking at the clock, trying to race against time. I looked around me to see if anyone was looking, but there was no one. Turning my attention back to Amira, I found myself getting lost in her little testing antics.
She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth; her subtle brown eyes were wildly searching for answers on her sheet. Amira seemed as lost as a bat during daylight hours, wondering what her mistakes were and whether her certainty was accurate.
Testing was always easy to me. There was a technique to all, and once I figured it out, there was no holding back to my perfect scores or the close to perfect ones. My SATs were even outstanding.
However, my above average test scores didn’t make my life any better.
I’m sure, my education was set to go, ready to face all the intellectual obstacles that would cross my path, however, my determination vanished. My mind harassed me late at night about Luqmaan and my father, two men who managed to scar my life without knowing it.
Luqmaan made me doubt myself. My father made me pull out hairs. Both damaged and complicated souls that roamed the Earth in hopes of finding their purpose. I was becoming just like them.
Now is not the time for this. I thought, as I brought my eyes back to her.
I couldn’t bring myself to look away from her. She was wearing a blue scarf with a loose gray sweater that hung at her hips and jeans that hugged her thighs. Amira would never wear something that purposely attracted men to her figure. She didn’t need a man’s validation or compliments.
She looked absolutely beautiful in anything she wore like she was the sun herself; radiant and pure, spraying the bright rays against my cold-hearted self. Even when she didn’t try to look good, she still looked good.
I sighed, leaning my cheek against my hand. Amira let go of her bottom lip, licking them when the dryness got to her. Man, I really wanted to kiss her sometimes. I knew I couldn’t and I knew I shouldn’t feel this way, but she had me falling hard for her. I wondered if all I felt was lust.
How could I, Damon Winters, a self-proclaimed hater of all things spiritual, start liking a girl who was the exact opposite of me? Sure, we had similar interests. Sure, she understood me and knew how to comfort me, but she was a Muslim.
I couldn’t trust her yet. My brain refused to, but my heart leapt towards her whenever she was within my presence. I had no idea when these feelings started, yet denying them for such a weak reason wasn’t going to work out anymore.
Amira was untouchable, clean of any other man’s touch. Her chastity was guarded by an unbreakable force that refused to open the gates for anyone. I knew many other guys at school had spared Amira a couple of glances, thinking the same as I do, but there was no way of getting close to her. She was protected from our prying eyes, hunger and thirst.
Suddenly, I felt an eraser chuck my head. I turned in my seat, and saw Tye and Thomas with grins across their faces. I glared, flipping them off with my finger. It was as logical and immature as it seemed.
Turning back to Amira, I watched as she turned in her test and sat down. She cupped her hands, and started mumbling something into it. I wonder what she’s saying? Then she blew into her hand.
“Alright, you guys can talk for the rest of the class while I organize the tests,” Ms. Lyon said.
I got up and went over to my group of friends, who were close to Amira’s table. I did a mental cheer in my head. Perhaps I could trick them into walking over to Amira.
“Damon, why so rude?” Thomas teased. “We were just trying to grab your attention.”
“You deserved it for chucking the eraser at me,” I scoffed.
He chuckled. Tye looked towards the direction of Amira and her friends. Anger bubbled within me as I tried not to think about Tye being interested in Amira. I took a deep breath. Chill the fuck out, Damon.
“You guys wanna annoy the girls over there?” I asked, while tilting my head towards Amira’s group.
Tye and Thomas shrugged and went with it. Surprised, I followed them, momentarily forgetting about Tye’s stares. As long as I could spend more time with Amira, I was okay.
As we walked over, I noticed that her friends were laughing about something Amira had said, reminding me of the first time I saw her. Her laughter was a melody that played a constant crescendo in my head, never letting me forget about the Muslim girl who thought of me a nuisance.
“Hey, weirdos,” Thomas smirked at Anna and Alexis.
“Why are you guys here?” Alexis asked, confused.
“We wanted to bless you with our irresistible presence,” said Tye, bowing slightly with an exaggerated British accent. “M’ladies, could I offer thou some divine assistance?”
“Aye, my companion, I shall join you,” Thomas continued, as he bowed as well, tilting his head towards me. “Sir Damon, these ladies deserve some respect.”
“That’s King Damon if we’re playing this medieval game,” I said.
Tye and Thomas straightened, both exhaling deeply in disappointment for my inability to follow their impromptu acting. The girls had erupted into a fit of laughter, especially when Thomas and Tye managed to attract the attention of other classmates. With their confidence at high spirits, they continued playing along with their jokes.
While our class became immersed at Tye and Thomas, I couldn’t help but keep my gaze on Amira, copying Anna’s notes for some class. Amira bent over the desk with her grey sweater falling loosely at her curves.
She looked so perfect. Her long, thick eyelashes hid her big brown eyes from me. Her gaze was purely focused on the paper, glazing over the notes in a rushed manner. She lifted her head, and locked our gazes.
I swore that time halted at that moment. I desperately wished that I could take a picture of her, making the moment last longer. Millions and billions of thoughts rushed into my mind, as I tried to imagine a future with her. Amira tilted her head at me, like she could read my thoughts. Her lips parted as she stared at me with a shocked expression. Even though it only lasted for a few seconds, the image was everlasting in my mind.
What the hell is wrong with me? When did I turn into such a love sick sap?
Amira looked at the clock on the wall beside me in a calculating manner. I never noticed how timely she was. Time was the essence to Amira’s being. She lived and breathed in time because there was always an aura that she was running out of it. I wondered what event in her past must have caused that fear in her, that habit that she had.
“Sir Damon!” exclaimed Thomas, a knowing gleam in his bright cerulean eyes. “Doth thou find a fair maiden?”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “No. Why would you say such a thing?”
Amira momentarily glanced up, a coy smile playing on her features, ripe with her own amusement.
Thomas wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him. We were roughly the same height, but I did not appreciate the closeness. “Oh, Damon. Love has bitten thou with its cupid bow.”
“Get away from me,” I muttered, pushing him away.
“You wound the brethren,” said Thomas, pouting like it would get him anywhere with me.
The class’ laughter echoed off the walls, even our teacher thoroughly enjoyed the free entertainment. He went back to acting with Tye, thankfully keeping me out of it. Amira focused on her homework again, isolating herself from the world around us. She had the dedication and drive that I dreamed of, the pen of her future in her hands.
She was so focused on the paper, attentive to
every last detail. Her fingers gripped the pencil harder as she continued pressing her pencil down on the paper. I was surprised she still hadn’t noticed my gaze.
“Damon, I can see you looking at me. You’re not very slick,” she said, without looking at me.
I paled, Spoke too soon. Amira looked up after closing the notebook. She smirked up at me.
“Oh, shut up, Amira. God, you’re so judgmental,” I scoffed embarrassed, as I turned away.
“Aww. Did I embarrass the little guy?” she laughed.
“I am not little. If you haven’t noticed, you’re shorter than me!” I exclaimed.
“Why are you so defensive?” she shook her head, amused.
“Me? You’re always defensive! What the hell?” I defended.
Amira softly laughed at my weak attempts at defending myself. I found myself relax to the sound of her laugh. I smiled along with her. Something about this girl kept me happy all day. Something about this girl erased all my worries away. Something about this made my insides melt form the mere sight of her.
She was so bubbly and cheerful towards people. It was such a welcoming gesture. Her parents did a great job at raising her. Are all Muslims like this? I hadn’t met many.
“Damon, it’s okay to be shy sometimes. Don’t be so blue,” she pouted.
I froze.
Images of taking her lips into mine, capturing them with my dominance, and tasting the sweetness of Amira overwhelmed me. I felt a familiar heat crawl up my neck, making the small hairs on my arm stick up. With the innocent glint in her exotic eyes, I wasn’t so sure if all Muslims were as awful as I thought.
She wasn’t Luqmaan. No, Amira was better than him in a thousand different ways. My heart had known that a long time ago.
Chapter 17
Family Comes First
Amira Sarker
I walked outside the school building, welcoming the gentle breeze that blew softly on my hijab. I looked up into the sky, watching the large fluffs of white clouds float among the ocean of blue, slowly drifting as the world turned on its axis. A flock of birds followed the motion of the clouds, flying far away to a place where the weather would welcome them with open arms.
Smiling, I continued walking as I ignored the obnoxious students around me. The boys were tackling each other in an attempt to show off their strength. The girls giggled, winking at a boy that might catch their eyes. I rolled my eyes, teenagers.
“Amira!” a voice called. I turned around and saw Damon, jogging up towards me. “Do you need a ride?” he asked.
“Nah. I’m taking the bus,” I told him.
He gave me a blank look. “You’re riding with me. Come on.”
I shook my head. A part of me wanted to follow Damon to wherever he would take me, to allow him the freedom to venture my body, mind, and soul, but I knew it was wrong. An alerted bell rang in my mind in warning, screaming at me to turn away. Allah came first, not boys or materialistic things, not even grades.
“Damon, no. Thank you for the offer though.”
“Amira, come on. I’ll get you home faster. I’m not exactly fond with you riding the bus.”
“And why is that?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
“Because I’m more trustworthy than a dumb bus. You know how many fights go on a bus?”
I raised a brow. “If I remember correctly, you were once a part of those fights.”
“I’m reformed, aren’t I?”
“I’m not sure if ‘reformed’ is proper word choice,” I remarked.
He sighed. “You really antagonize me, you know that?”
“Of course, I do,” I said proudly. “If I don’t keep you grounded, then who will?”
“You make a compelling argument, but seriously stay a while,” smiled Damon.
My body suddenly felt cold, a chill running down my spine in warning. He wanted to ride with me to have time alone with me. Texting and real-life conversations were two different types of communication. When we were texting, I could easily leave the chat whenever I wanted without burying myself into the depths of Damon’s life.
In real life, there were no barriers between us if we were alone. I could surrender to desire; forget all my values in the heat of a moment. There was peer pressure and the need to be like everyone else. There were guidelines to interactions in Islam to prevent a time where my vulnerability allowed someone to take advantage of me.
Damon sensed my ambivalent thoughts. “We could talk out here. When is your bus coming?”
I checked the time on my phone. “In a little bit,” I replied.
“Do you think you could spare me a little time?” he asked, shyly at first. “I just really wanted to talk.”
My heart warmed a little at his words. They were so sweet, luring my heart closer to the gates of no return and I allowed it. It wasn’t right, but we were in public where there were other students. It couldn’t be that bad, right?
“Sure.”
His smile had brightened, lifting his spirits almost immediately. The joy stretched his cheeks until I wasn’t sure if I had ever seen him that pleased before.
“So,” I opened the conversation, “what did you want to talk about?”
He settled himself on a bench outside the building, patting the seat next to him. Hesitantly, I sat on the far side, clutching my textbooks to my chest. My nerves bundled together, warnings flashing through my mind, my breath quickening. Relax, it’s not a big deal. Just chill.
“Anything to keep you here a while longer,” he winked.
“Anything?” I tested.
He nodded, eyes glimmering like emeralds and the sheen of morning dew. He couldn’t stop smiling, nor could he keep his eyes away for a second almost like he was hypnotized.
“Well, who’s Luqmaan?”
That was the key to dropping all progress between us. A frown painted his lips, dark and distant. “That’s a little sudden, don’t you think?”
I shrugged. “You said anything.”
“That didn’t include this.”
“Like you said, anything,” I emphasized, gazing at his with suspicion. There was a secret hidden behind his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “Why do you always do this when I bring up about that fight or Luqmaan?”
Damon exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He was a friend of mine from my previous school. We were best friends to be exact.”
“What happened?”
“Amira-”
“Just forget I asked,” I mumbled, beginning to stand up.
“No, wait!”
I paused, knowing I was being unfair to him, but the curiosity suffocated me, narrowed my airways, and burned me at the thought of the real reason behind Damon’s dismissal of Islam.
I could hear shuffles behind me, and he stood up as well. “Amira, Luqmaan was a horrible person,” he whispered, taking cautious steps to walk around me until we were face to face again. My books couldn’t even hide me this time. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s that he’s not worth remembering.”
“How could you say that?” I asked, my own voice barely above a whisper. I retreated a few steps from him. “He was the guy who made you so distrusting. He’s the reason why you don’t trust me or any Muslim at this school. If he’s not worth remembering, then why do you let it affect you?”
“It’s more than just that.”
I shook my head. “No, Damon. You haven’t gotten over the fight, have you?”
He looked panicked as if I had cornered him into a wall, and trapped him among feral beasts. His hands clenched into fists, body tensing as his shirt seemed tighter against his chest. Damon looked terrified and I wondered if I went too far.
“I haven’t,” he croaked.
Sympathy wrapped around me. “Luqmaan isn’t a representation of all Muslims, Damon. You say we’re friends, but friends aren’t afraid of each other. I don’t want you to fear and not trust me.”
“Do you trust me then?” he asked.
He raised a brow.
From all our personal conversations and all the times we had been there for each other, I knew I trusted him. The only obstacle that punctured that trust was whether or not he could ever see me as his equal, whether he could see me as a human being, whether I was good enough to be remembered as Amira to him, and not just another Muslim set out to destroy him.
“Yes, I do,” I said firmly. The bus had pulled over on the side of the road. “I have to go.”
“I can still give you a ride.”
“No, thanks.”
I could feel Damon’s gaze on my back the whole way until I was out of his line of vision. I wondered if he liked me. I knew my feelings for him were growing stronger and uncontrollable. The idea of being with Damon wrapped around my brain like warm gloves on winter days, yet the rest of the cold days face the heat eventually.
***
When I got home, I saw my very ill Nanu (grandpa) lying on the couch. Nanu had a very bad leg injury, preventing him from walking. It brought tears to my eyes to see him in such a condition. Wrinkles creased the soft skin of his eyes and lips, making him even older and look tired. His lips pressed to a thin line, perhaps angry at the situation of his weakening body.
“Mum! I think something is wrong with Nanu,” I called out.
“I know. I’ll take him to the doctor as soon as your dad comes home,” she said softly.
“But, Mum, he’s really not looking good. You need to take him now,” I insisted.
She sighed. “Who will take us now? I still have the kids to watch and Tanwir isn’t home. We’ll go as soon as your dad comes home, but for now, can you make him some tea?” she said gently.
I nodded my head, went to the kitchen, and started brewing the tea. Oh Allah, please let Nanu be okay. Please Allah. He only just got here. I just got to see him after all this time. Please help him.
“Amira? Are you making tea?” Nani (grandma) asked. Nani had bad hearing. Years and years of poor living conditions in the villages of Bangladesh were starting to take a toll on herself.