Muslim Girl

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Muslim Girl Page 12

by Umm Zakiyyah

She shrugged. “Unless we include artificial insemina-tion and in vitro fertilization.”

  “How could you be so smart but so stupid?” Inaya blurted. Inaya winced as she realized she had spoken her thoughts aloud. So much for da’wah.

  Inaya felt the shocked expression of her father before she met his gaze, and she hated that she had disappointed him.

  “I could ask you the same question,” Lyrica said.

  Inaya contorted her face as she looked at Lyrica, momentarily forgetting her desire to impress her father. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you sh—”

  “Hey, hey, hey.” Chris laughed uncomfortably and raised his palms toward the friends. “Let’s not get bent out of shape over this.”

  The room grew quiet as Lyrica lifted her chin proudly and glanced behind her toward the closed curtains. Inaya’s heart hammered in angry discomfort, and she dropped her gaze to her nails in an exaggerated attempt to avoid looking at Lyrica. Inaya wished she could go back home right then.

  The sound of the front door opening interrupted the silence, and they all looked toward Raymond, who smiled broadly as he deposited Inaya’s bags on the floor.

  “There,” he said. “You’re all set.”

  “Thanks,” Inaya mumbled.

  What had she been thinking when she agreed to help Lyrica learn about Islam?

  “But I’m curious as to why you insist on being an atheist.” Chris’s tone was pleasant, and he wore a smile as he looked at Lyrica.

  Lyrica shrugged. “I don’t call myself an atheist,” she said. “It sounds too much like a religion.”

  Chris’s eyebrows rose. “Do you ever worry about your soul?”

  Inaya glanced in Raymond’s direction and saw that his eyes were fixed on Lyrica, as if hoping with all his heart that something was stirring inside her. Inaya sighed silently and turned away. She really didn’t understand what Raymond saw in that girl.

  “Nope,” Lyrica said. But her tone suggested irritation more than conviction.

  “Do you believe you even have a soul?” Chris asked jokingly.

  Lyrica groaned and stood.

  “Raymond, it’s late,” she said, her voice soft but her annoyance unmistakable. “Can you take me home?”

  “Sure,” Raymond said too quickly.

  There was an awkward silence as Raymond opened the front closet and took out Lyrica’s coat.

  “Thank you,” Lyrica said as she walked to the foyer and put her coat back on.

  When Raymond opened the door and Lyrica stepped outside in front of him, he wore a pained expression as he looked back at Chris, apology in his eyes.

  “Have a good night,” Raymond murmured.

  “You too, son,” Chris said.

  But Inaya remained silent. She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge Lyrica’s grand exit, or the reason for it. Saying anything would be like approving Lyrica’s behavior.

  But Inaya couldn’t keep her heart from constricting in fear that her rudeness to Lyrica had cost her Raymond’s friendship.

  ***

  It was after ten o’clock when the doorbell to Chris’s house rang. Inaya was sitting on the couch and holding the remote as she flipped through channels while dishes clanked in the kitchen. Inaya had offered to help her father clean up, but he had insisted that she relax and enjoy herself, though she had no idea how she would manage either one.

  “Can you get the door?” Chris called out from the kitchen.

  Inaya walked to the front door and looked through the peephole and saw Raymond standing outside. She ran a hand over her hair and rushed to the couch to retrieve the khimaar that was lying there. Of course, Raymond saw her every day without the head cover, but Inaya didn’t want to announce this to her father. Besides, she had made a commitment to follow the Islamic rules outside of school.

  Inaya wrapped the cloth about her head then tucked an edge of the khimaar under her chin to hold it in place. She quickly checked her appearance in a passing mirror before making her way to the front door.

  “Inaya,” Raymond said, a look of surprise on his face when she stood opposite him after the door opened. “Is your father home?”

  Inaya motioned her head behind her. “He’s in the kitchen.”

  Inaya stepped aside to let Raymond inside. Her heart thumped as she watched Raymond shrug off his coat and hang it in the front closet. His expression was difficult to read, but guilt gnawed at Inaya as she sensed that he was deeply bothered.

  Inaya’s heart sank in dread as Raymond walked to the kitchen without saying anything else to her. Inaya thought about how she’d spoken to Lyrica, and she drew in a deep breath before dragging herself to the couch to resume staring mindlessly at the flickering television screen.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Inaya’s shoulders jerked in surprise as she looked toward the sound of the voice, the remote control still in her hand. Inaya’s eyes were widened when she saw Raymond standing opposite her.

  For a split second, Inaya’s heart was relieved, even flattered, that Raymond was talking to her. But when she saw his pained expression, the feeling passed. She knew then that Lyrica had talked to him and that he was not happy about what Inaya had done.

  Inaya drew in a breath and exhaled as she lifted the remote control and pressed the power button. The noise of the television died suddenly, creating an awkward silence in the room.

  “Sure,” Inaya said, betraying her true feelings. She didn’t feel like talking about what had happened earlier. She wished Raymond could just forget about it.

  Raymond sighed as he sat in the chair across from Inaya. “I talked to Lyrica,” he said, and Inaya looked away. She had trouble hiding her annoyed expression. “And she says I owe you an apology.”

  Inaya’s eyebrows shot up as she met Raymond’s gaze. “What?”

  Raymond clasped his hands together and leaned forward, his eyes averted momentarily.

  “What happened between you and Mrs. Ford?” he asked after a long pause. His eyes were narrowed in curiosity.

  Inaya furrowed her brows at the abrupt shift in conversation. “Mrs. Ford?”

  “Lyrica says one of the BOSS members heard Mrs. Ford bragging about you on the phone.”

  Inaya shook her head, a confused expression on her face. The information didn’t surprise her, but she had no idea why Raymond was bringing this up.

  “What else is new?” Inaya said dryly.

  Raymond seemed a bit taken aback by Inaya’s sarcasm. “Doesn’t she know you’re Muslim?”

  For a moment Inaya just looked at Raymond. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand his question, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Besides, how was this any of his business?

  In all the months Inaya had lived the double life of “regular girl” at school and “Muslim girl” at home, she never had to speak the lie aloud.

  But Inaya was surprised that Raymond hadn’t known all along. Wasn’t it obvious? Why did he think she stopped wearing the Islamic head cover?

  “No,” Inaya said, surprising herself by her honesty. But she immediately felt ashamed. What would Raymond think of her now?

  Raymond slowly closed his eyes and exhaled, as if he had feared this would be her response. He slapped a hand to his forehead and held it there momentarily.

  “I’m so sorry, Inaya,” he said. His eyes pleaded forgiveness, and Inaya shook her head in confusion.

  “Sorry for what?”

  He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and groaned, apparently in self-rebuke. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, meeting her gaze. “When I asked you to head BOSS, I knew Mrs. Ford wouldn’t know you were Muslim, at least not initially.”

  He shook his head. “But I just assumed after you started working together she would find out.”

  Inaya shrugged, too exhausted to care. She was the one who should be apologizing, if not to Raymond, then to herself and her family. She should never have tried to live a lie in the fi
rst place.

  Perhaps this was all a punishment from Allah, she considered. What did Raymond need to be sorry about? He didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, she should take it as a compliment that he assumed she was spiritually stronger than she was. She felt bad that she had failed to meet even his meager expectations. After all, letting someone know you’re Muslim was the least anyone would expect.

  He laughed to himself as he shook his head again. “I had this crazy idea that meeting you would wake her up. I thought she’d finally see how unfair she was being to everyone.”

  He huffed, a sad smirk on his face. “Of course I knew she’d be impressed by you.”

  The flattering sentiment made Inaya laugh self-consciously. “What would make you think something like that?”

  He sighed, still smiling sadly. “But I had no idea she’d think you were Christian.”

  Inaya’s smile faded, and she dropped her gaze to her hands. She had no idea Mrs. Ford would think that either.

  “She’s a bigoted hypocrite,” Raymond said, the angry words prompting Inaya to look up. He groaned. “She shouldn’t even be working there.”

  Inaya was quiet momentarily, and she hated that she could find no words to defend Mrs. Ford. But she had no idea why she felt any inclination to.

  “Lyrica has been begging me to help build a lawsuit against her.”

  Inaya drew her eyebrows together in surprise. “A lawsuit?”

  Raymond nodded slowly and sighed. “Lyrica already threatened Mrs. Ford, but of course, Mrs. Ford isn’t taking her seriously.”

  Inaya shook her head as a thought came to her suddenly. “Is that why Mrs. Ford hates Lyrica so much?”

  Raymond smirked. “So you know now, huh? I guess that woman couldn’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.” He shrugged.

  “It’s complicated,” he said.

  Raymond was silent as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, his expression thoughtful. “But Lyrica can be a bit headstrong when it comes to religion,” he said. He chuckled and shook his head. “Even I get annoyed sometimes.”

  Inaya was unsure what to say.

  “But we thought you’d be the best person to tame the beast,” Raymond said, humor in his tone.

  Inaya creased her forehead as she looked at Raymond. “We?”

  “Lyrica and I,” he said, a tired smile on his face. “But Lyrica said I should’ve forewarned you.”

  Suddenly, everything began to make sense. Inaya glared at Raymond. “So getting me to head this group was just a personal vendetta for you and your girlfriend?”

  Raymond narrowed his eyes, as if surprised that Inaya blamed him. “Do you know that that woman has single-handedly made sure that not a single student ever won the Distinguished Student Award except Christians?”

  “So?”

  “She’s using the award to boost support for her church,” Raymond said as if that justified everything.

  Inaya shook her head. “I couldn’t care less what she does for her church. I just don’t appreciate being thrown in the middle of this.”

  Raymond sighed. “Well, I’m sorry about that.” His tone was subdued. “Lyrica assumed I’d warned you ahead of time.”

  The sound of music drifted from the television in the kitchen and filled the silence between them.

  “I just wish she wasn’t so vindictive,” Raymond said, speaking more to himself than to Inaya. “Lyrica’s lost out on so many scholarships because of her.”

  Inaya drew her eyebrows together. “I thought Mrs. Ford was only in charge of the Future Hope Scholarship.”

  Raymond grunted laughter. “She’s not even in charge of that one. But she has a lot of connections, so she usually gets her way.”

  A shadow of anger passed over Raymond’s face.

  “We knew she was prejudiced,” he said. “But we never expected her to sabotage Lyrica’s chances at any scholarship.”

  Inaya’s chest constricted in anxiety as she realized what this could mean for her personally.

  “So if she doesn’t know you’re Muslim,” Raymond said with a sigh, “it’s probably best to keep it that way.”

  “Maybe I should just turn down the scholarship if I get it.”

  Raymond’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Inaya. “Why? It wouldn’t do any good. Mrs. Ford is more proud than Christian. She won’t let you just turn down something she’s been building up for so long. Especially if she finds out why.” He shook his head thoughtfully.

  “You’ll just end up like Lyrica,” he said. “She just walked away, and look what happened to her. Mrs. Ford has plotted against Lyrica so much that there’s hardly a teacher or staff member in that school who’ll agree to even give her a recommendation letter.”

  Raymond drew in a deep breath and exhaled as he looked apologetically at Inaya. “So no, turning down the scholarship isn’t a good idea. The most you can hope is that someone else wins it.”

  Inaya shook her head, still upset with Raymond for putting her in this predicament. “Maybe I should just tell her I’m Muslim and save us all the trouble.”

  Raymond’s mouth formed a thin line as he considered what Inaya said. “It might work,” he said slowly. “But just be careful.”

  Chapter 18

  The Announcement

  Inaya woke early one Monday morning in late March and felt as if she were coming doing with the flu. The thickness of the comforter that she’d pulled over her face made her breaths warm in the confined space.

  Rain pounded incessantly against the window of her bedroom, and she wondered if her mother would let her stay home from school. It was too farfetched to imagine that abdominal cramps would grant her this permission, even though it was “that time of the month.” Just two weeks ago, Inaya was home for Spring Break, and Veronica had acted as if that were too much time off from studying.

  Inaya coughed to soothe the burning in her throat, and she wondered if she should drink some honey-lemon tea. But the thought of dragging herself out of bed to boil the water and squeeze lemons was enough to discourage her.

  In any case, in less than an hour, Kayla was scheduled to arrive. But Inaya imagined that the ensuing thunderstorm would keep Kayla from coming to the door.

  “Keep your fingers crossed,” Mrs. Ford had told Inaya Friday afternoon, the excitement in her tone leaving nothing ambiguous about what she was referring to. “We’re making the announcement Monday morning during homeroom.”

  For more than two months, Inaya had remained indecisive about what to do about the Future Hope Scholarship and the problem with Mrs. Ford. During the late December night that she had talked to Raymond at her father’s house, it seemed that the best option was just being straightforward with Mrs. Ford about her religion. But when Inaya returned to school in early January after winter vacation, the option was no longer appealing.

  For one thing, there was no opportunity to bring it up. Though Inaya worked with Mrs. Ford daily and still stayed late after school, they were rarely alone for more than a few minutes at a time. The excess of work because of the approaching annual academic honor’s ceremony, Mrs. Ford’s role in assisting with the senior graduation, and the BOSS’s sudden responsibility to assist Student Council with planning the school prom, made it necessary for at least one other BOSS member to stay after school each day with Inaya and Mrs. Ford.

  But even when Mrs. Ford and Inaya found themselves alone for a few minutes, Mrs. Ford gushed about how proud she was that the Christian students were showing their “natural” superiority this year, and how this year’s honor’s program was going to be “like no other.” Mrs. Ford beamed as she shared how her church had sealed an “amazing deal” with a national news company to cover the entire event—something that Mrs. Ford said she hoped would allow her church “to go the next mile.”

  As if that weren’t enough to give Inaya an ulcer, Lyrica’s parents, lawyers themselves, were speaking to a team of lawyer friends about filing a lawsuit against the school bec
ause of Mrs. Ford’s clandestine and illegal actions against their daughter. Of course, Mrs. Ford didn’t know this yet because it wasn’t yet publicized. But Kayla had told Inaya about it a few weeks ago on their way to school.

  “I don’t like it,” Kayla had said, her face contorted in disapproval. “It’ll just be a big media mess for nothing. Lyrica doesn’t even have any real proof against her anyway.”

  At the sound of loud pounding on her bedroom door, Inaya fluttered her eyes open. Groggy, Inaya slowly realized she had drifted to sleep.

  Frantic, Inaya threw the covers from herself and swung her legs to the floor. She banged the flat of her hand on the clock next to her bed to silence the alarm that must have been blaring for at least fifteen minutes already.

  “Inaya!” A second later the door opened, and Veronica’s eyes widened in shock as she saw Inaya still in her pajamas. “What are you doing? Kayla is outside.”

  “I’m coming,” Inaya said as she rushed to the closet and pulled clothes from some hangers.

  Veronica shook her head. “She’s already running late. I’m going to tell her to go on without you.”

  “I can stay home?” Inaya hadn’t meant to sound so hopeful, but she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to take a day off.

  “What?” Her mother said, wrinkling her nose. “Girl, you better be ready in ten minutes. I’m not letting you play hooky.”

  Before Inaya could respond, Veronica disappeared behind the slammed door.

  It wasn’t until Inaya was sitting next to her mother in the car that Inaya realized that the last time her mother had taken her to school was on registration day. Inaya’s heart sank as Inaya realized that her mother might find out about her charade. She definitely couldn’t take off her khimaar and jilbaab while she was in the car, as she had been doing each day. But what if Mrs. Ford or a teacher saw Inaya dressed in Islamic clothes?

  Inaya silently scorned herself for oversleeping. What had she been thinking?

  Ironically, about a month ago, Inaya had hoped she’d be found out. She had grown so tired of the back and forth that she wished her mother would surprise her by stopping by the school or giving one of her teachers a call. Inaya had even purposefully left out a notice about the spring semester parent-teacher conference just so her mother would ask about it. But her mother had been so consumed by her own problems that she didn’t even see the note.

 

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