You Must Be Layla

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You Must Be Layla Page 5

by Yassmin Abdel-Magied


  Oh dear. She really couldn’t have picked worse enemies.

  ‘So wha- wha- what are you saying?’ Layla asked, between sobs. ‘That I shouldn’t have done anything?’

  ‘Well, you know we don’t ever agree with fighting. We’re very disappointed when any of our children fight with their fists – or in your case, your head! Calling someone names is never acceptable – it makes us no better than the people we’re fighting, and it’s not very Islamic. But it does sound like you were physical in self-defence, not an attack like the other boys said. Is that right?’ Mama asked.

  Layla nodded slowly, her braids barely moving.

  ‘Okay then. You were protecting yourself. That’s all right, habibti.’ Mama reached over to wipe a tear off Layla’s face, her face soft. ‘That’s okay. We all need to protect ourselves sometimes.’

  ‘But now what do we do?’ came her sniffling response.

  ‘Well, at the moment, it’s your word against theirs, no?’ Baba said. ‘And the principal hasn’t even asked you for your side of the story, really. What about the other kids who were there? Have any of them talked to the principal?’

  Layla shook her head vigorously, and still her braids didn’t move much.

  ‘Maybe if you get someone to report what really happened, or maybe share one of those videos that you said were recorded, you can get the suspension overruled. Do you want us to have a chat with the school?’

  Layla looked up to the corner of the room and pursed her lips, salty tears dripping down her chin. ‘I don’t know, Mama. I don’t want to make it any worse. What do you think, Ozzie?’ She wasn’t super close with her older brother, but she really respected his opinion.

  Ozzie shrugged. ‘Getting parents involved always makes things messy, I reckon,’ he said, licking the last bits of sauce off his fingers. ‘I’d stay low key, but that’s just me.’

  ‘Maybe we leave it for now, then,’ Layla said, looking to her parents. Low key might be the best key.

  ‘Okay, habiba, if that’s what you really want. We can stay out of it. But the moment you want back up, we’re here for you. Nobody messes with the Husseins.’

  Her parents discussed the fact that while she was on suspension she could focus on study, maybe ask the teacher for extra credit work like she used to do in primary school. Suddenly Layla remembered the other thing that had happened that day – she’d been thrown out of class by her homeroom teacher too! Layla dropped her face into her hands. Her parents hadn’t heard about that yet, but they were probably not going to be as forgiving about that incident.

  What a mess! What a hot, hot mess.

  CHAPTER 6

  LAYLA lay on her bed that night, texting Dina. Layla shared the big bedroom with the twins; she had the top bunk and the twins slept on the double bunk bed at the bottom. The room was a mix of her stuff and theirs: posters of SpongeBob SquarePants (theirs) alongside a poster of a giant mystical tree (hers) and Muhammad Ali (hers and theirs). Both their sets of drawers were equally as messy, with piles of books, toys and jewellery pieces strewed across the tops of the dressers and all over the floor. Layla liked to think it was an organised mess, but her parents never seemed convinced.

  Dina knew Layla inside out. Back at ISB, they had spent every minute together; they sat next to each other in class, hung out with each other at lunchtimes and would even do after school activities together. Layla missed Dina sooooo much, especially today. Her friend had shown mixed emotions when Layla got the scholarship; she was super supportive, but they both knew it wouldn’t be the same. Gosh, how Layla wished Dina was with her at this new school though. She always knew what to do.

  Layla

  Dina I had da worssstttt day.

  Dina

  OMG what happened?

  Layla

  This guy fully yelled terrorist stuff to me in front of the whole school! I totes went ape at him hey.

  lol. I ended up HEADBUTTING HIM.

  Dina

  OMG YOU DID WOT?

  Layla

  Ikr. It was lit but obvs I got in maaaaaajor trbl.

  Dina

  ??

  Layla

  Suspended yo. [SAD GIF]

  Dina

  U GOT SUSPENDED? U? Layla? DUDE!

  Layla

  **crying emoji** [GIF]

  Layla threw her phone across the bed, overcome by a sudden wave of sadness. Only a few hours ago she had been so positive about this new school and the adventures ahead, but now she didn’t know what her future would be. She wasn’t the kind of girl who got mixed up in fights or suspended. She had always known people like that, but that wasn’t her. She knew who she was – she was smart, loud and a bit of a joker. She was always being told off by teachers for being noisy and disruptive, though she never got into real trouble. Now, with all this, had MMGS turned her into someone else? How had that even happened? It was so unfair! Okay, she shouldn’t have tried to make the other kids laugh at Ms Taylor, but Peter and his brother were so awful! How was it that they could get away with treating people like that?

  She had to do something to make this right.

  Layla thought about the people she looked up to. Mama and Baba often talked about those throughout history who fought for justice to make the world a better place. People like the Prophet Mohammed (SAW), Nelson Mandela, Maya Angelou. She wondered how they would fight back against the lies Layla was dealing with.

  It was kinda wild. They all were strong, powerful people, but didn’t take revenge on those who hurt them. Rah … She hadn’t realised that before. How on earth were they able to be respectful to people who were so awful to them?

  Layla recalled a story Mama had told her about the Prophet Mohammed (SAW) where he would walk past an old lady’s house daily on his way to the mosque. This old lady hated him so much that she would throw her rubbish at him, every time without fail. The Prophet never responded to her, but would just pass by silently.

  One day, she wasn’t there to throw anything at him. Her absence noted, the Rasoul (another name for the Prophet) made some inquiries and her neighbour informed him that she was in bed sick. Later that day, the Prophet went to visit the woman – not to take revenge on her when she was weak, but to look after her and pay his respects. The woman was so impressed by the Prophet’s actions and kindness of character that she eventually became Muslim.

  Layla sighed, thinking of this tale. It was a pretty good story, but she wasn’t as kind as the Prophet! I mean, he was a Prophet! Sure, all her other role models also had examples where they encouraged their followers to be non-violent or forgiving, but they also stood up for what was right.

  So, what am I supposed to do in this situation, yo? U? Layla?!

  Layla took a deep breath. Her head hurt. It was all a bit much really. She could feel a throbbing on her forehead and turned to look at herself in the mirror. AH! There was a great big bruise on her forehead from where she had headbutted Peter! Yow! Maybe it was a good thing that she wasn’t going to school tomorrow after all.

  Sami and Yousif bound into the room, followed by Ozzie who lazily sauntered behind. The twins jumped onto their bed and Ozzie leaned inside the doorframe. Layla sat up and swung around, her legs hanging off the side of the top bunk bed.

  ‘So, about what happened,’ Ozzie drawled, looking down on his phone and flicking through Instagram, before glancing at Layla.

  ‘Yeah …’ Layla’s voice was quiet. Ozzie was sometimes a bit mean to her, but she looked up to her big brother and wanted him to like her. He was, like, the dopest person she knew. He wore cool clothes, was smart enough to get good grades (but never seemed to need to study) and was also super athletic (he won all the sprint races at school). His friends were always coming through the house calling Mama ‘aunty’ and although they never really paid Layla much attention, she wished she could hang out with them, cruising around the suburb on skateboards and BMX bikes. They were always getting up to some adventure. Ozzie mostly ignored her, but moments like the
se, when he actually wanted to talk to her, always made her feel special.

  ‘You okay?’

  Layla met her brother’s eyes. ‘What do I do, Ozzie? I know you said not to involve Ma and Ba.’ She looked down again, legs swinging. ‘And it’s not like I’m not scared of Peter, but I mean, what if he or his brother hurts me next time? I don’t have anyone to back me up. It’s not like ISB where I’ve known everyone for years and they all know me.’

  ‘They’re bullies. You just have to be smarter than them. You’re a smart kid, so work out how to outsmart them rather than outfight them.’

  With that, Ozzie turned around and left, putting his ear to his phone. ‘Oiii cuzzzz!’ his voice trailed off as he walked down the hallway.

  Layla rolled her eyes and then turned over onto her stomach, pushing herself off the bed and hopping onto the twins’ bed below. They had been sitting quietly and watching the conversation.

  ‘What do you boys think, hmm? What should Sister Layla do?’

  Sami and Yousif started bouncing on the bed, one up, the other down. ‘Let’s play Lego! Yeh! Let’s build something! Maybe that’ll fix it?’

  Layla laughed. What a time. She’d been thrown out of class, headbutted the chairman’s son, been suspended from school and possibly lost a scholarship. She highly doubted Lego was going to fix this particular situation, but maybe it would help take her mind off things.

  The twins scrambled off the bed, grabbing their stash of Lego from the dresser, grinning and babbling among themselves. They loved Lego and had requested a box of it for both Eids every year. As Layla poured the blocks onto the rug on the floor, her mind wandered, and she remembered one of the posters she saw on the noticeboard in the principal’s office. Maybe there was a way she could build her way out of this one after all. Maybe there was a way to save the scholarship that she’d worked so hard for, getting her one step closer to her dream of being a world-famous bejewelling adventurer.

  Layla was suspended, so she wasn’t supposed to go to school all week. But she’d needed to talk to Mr Gilvarry about her idea. That evening, she worked with her mother to carefully word an email to the year coordinator, who gave her permission to visit the tech building to fetch the notebook that she pretended she’d left behind.

  The next day, Layla convinced her dad to take her back into school before they picked up her brothers. It had been less than 24 hours since everything happened, but that didn’t dampen Layla’s mood when she walked into the woodwork room on the Tuesday afternoon.

  ‘Mr Gilvarry!’ Layla strode confidently into the tech room, pausing at the door to breathe in the smell of pine and varnish.

  ‘Layla!’ The teacher looked up from the bench where he sat on a stool, sanding away at a wooden carving in front of him. He placed the carving carefully down on the table top and roughly brushed the sawdust off his dirty maroon apron. ‘What can I do for you? I thought you weren’t coming into school all week?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m still on suspension, but I’m a hustler, ya know?’ Layla chuckled to herself as she channelled her inner grifter. Focus, girl! All right. You got this. Layla took a deep breath and unloaded.

  ‘Listen, Mr Gilvarry, I’ve got something very important … and I think it could change things … but I think … well, I don’t really know what I’m doing so I might need, like, your help,’ Layla stuttered, the words spluttering out quicker than she could move her mouth.

  ‘Slow down, Layla. What’s going on?’

  Layla took a deep breath, focusing on her tech teacher’s jolly face. ‘Well, I saw there was a competition, a robotics competition and I wondered if you knew anything about it because, well, I want to enter.’

  Mr Gilvarry’s face broke into a grin. ‘Oh, of course! The Grand Designs Tourismo – GDT – is a huge deal!’

  Layla soon learned that the GDT was the biggest robotics invention competition in the country, and the top three ideas in each state would go on to compete in the national finals. The winner of the national final featured in a half hour show made by the ABC, and that wasn’t even the most exciting part.

  Mr Gilvarry went on to explain: ‘The team that wins the nationals goes to the international final in Germany. It’s a huge thing, and MMGS always does really well. In fact, the current chairman, Mr Cox, was part of a team that competed in the international final years ago! They almost won, but the competition had to be stopped because the Berlin Wall was coming down. Big year, that was – for Germany and for MMGS.’ Mr Gilvarry chuckled under his breath.

  OMG. This is perfect. If she was part of a winning team, the principal would definitely be impressed enough to drop the probation and maybe even renew her scholarship. This was for sure her way back in. She needed the scholarship to stay in this school. MMGS was the only way Layla could see her dream of being a world-class adventurer becoming a reality. This school held the key to her future. She couldn’t let that slip out of her fingers now.

  The only problem was, she had no idea how to invent anything. She could build stuff, sure. But that’s not quite the same thing as inventing …

  ‘How do I join a team, Mr Gilvarry? I want to be a part of this; it sounds epic!’

  ‘Well, I’m the teacher looking after the competition, so I know all the groups entering. Our strongest team is run by one of your classmates, actually. They’ve been working together since last year. I am not sure if you know him – Peter Cox?’

  Layla’s heart sank like a heavy stone in the front lake of the school.

  No, no, no.

  Not Peter! How had this boy ended up ruining everything all the time?

  Layla swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. ‘Yeah, I know Peter. Um, is there any other team you recommend joining though?’

  My Gilvarry’s eyes went to the ceiling as he searched his brain. ‘Hmm,’ he grunted. ‘Let me think.’

  ‘The Sasquatches are a good group, but never seem to get anything finished in time, the Hilarions are our all-female team …’

  The tech teacher listed a bunch of other names, but none inspired much confidence. It appeared that Peter’s group was clearly the one most likely to take the competition out. Apparently, Peter’s dad had been training him up for this his whole life, buying him robotics sets as soon as he turned three. They were Mr Gilvarry’s favourite team too. But Layla could not bring herself to work with the very person responsible for getting her suspended.

  ‘Mr Gilvarry,’ she said, an idea popping into her head like an environmentally sustainable fluorescent lightbulb. ‘Can I just start my own team?’

  ‘Oh yes, well, I suppose you could. I don’t usually recommend that newcomers or even new arrivals–’

  ‘You mean new arrivals like new to the school? ’Cause I’ve been in Australia pretty much my whole life, you know …’ again, Layla interrupted. This time, she trailed off, realising that she didn’t really know who she was talking to. Maybe Mr Gilvarry would get angry? What’s wrong with me? Why am I so touchy about stuff right now?

  ‘Ah yes,’ Gilvarry continued, barely skipping a beat, ‘new arrivals to the school. But anyway, look, I don’t usually encourage people to enter on their own, but I understand it might be difficult for you to simply slip into a team when they’ve been working on their projects for months now. So, if you really want, you can be in a team of one.’

  Layla’s imagination filled with all the things she could work on. How hard could it be?

  ‘Do you know much about inventing things?’ Mr Gilvarry’s voice interrupted her trail of thoughts.

  ‘No, but I can learn and learn quickly! I’m really great at fixing things and I’m always keen to know how things work.’

  The teacher chortled, his great belly jiggling in time with the sound.

  ‘All righty then. I guess I can start you off with some reading, some stuff online and books. And then we can brainstorm some ideas?’

  The teacher walked to the back of the class and into a corner so shrouded in darkness Layla hadn’t eve
n noticed it was there. He came back with a high stack of books that reached Layla’s nose when he handed them to her.

  ‘You should really buy a Kindle,’ Layla said, her legs almost buckling under the weight and her arms feeling like they were about to be ripped out at the shoulder sockets. ‘Or any kind of ereader. These books are heavy and dusty and–’ Layla sniffed, ‘they smell. What is that, mould?’

  Mr Gilvarry laughed again.

  ‘Oh no, no. You can’t buy these books online. That’s the best part of it. If you want to invent something nobody has thought of before, you need to read the things that others don’t read, look in the spaces other people are not in. That way you can bring inspiration from all over the place into your work. And these books are a great place to start.’

  Layla craned her neck around the stack of books in her arms. Indeed, the books were not all about how to become a carpenter or robotics designer or engineer. There were stories on building new worlds, on discovering new species, on science and art and philosophy. Layla wasn’t sure she was going to get through all of these. In fact, she was certain she wasn’t going to get through all of them. But she would definitely be giving it a red-hot go! Rah, this was cool. Mr Gilvarry was like her very own Mr Miyagi from The Karate Kid. Yes! She’d always wanted a powerful magic mentor. Maybe Gilvarry wasn’t magic, but with bus driver socks like his, anything was possible.

  ‘All right then, sir. Thanks so much. I’ll read these over my next few days at home and come back to you next week with some ideas. Sound good?’

  ‘Yep. Next time you come through, remind me to give you the paperwork for registration. Now head along and HAVE FUN!’

  Layla wobbled outside with the stack of books, not being able to see what was in front of her. A few steps out of the building, she bumped into someone, making a loud thud and almost knocking them both over. The voice on the other side of the book stack was hard and unmistakable.

 

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