Zaynub Khalid

Three days. It had been three days since we found out that Baba was in coma. Three days of staying in the hospital. Three days of salty tears.

I sat down next to Baba, holding his hand. Amu cried herself to sleep like she did for the past three days. It was twelve in the morning. Amir took Noorah home. It wasn't good for the baby's health if she was depressed. Zakir's family would be taking care of our house, but they still came here to visit Baba. Hajar had to go home because she had school tomorrow. I had school too, but I just wanted to stay with Baba a bit longer.

The doctors weren't sure if Baba would wake up. The chances were very slim. Once again, tears flowed freely from my eyes. It hurt to know that I might never get to tell Baba how much I loved him. I never even got to say goodbye. Oh Allah, please let him wake up.

I was too deep in my thoughts that I didn't hear Zakir walk in.

"Zaynub, look at me please," he urged.

I looked up. He had his hands in his pockets and just stared at me.

"Zaynub," he sighed.

I sniffled.

"You need to rest. Come on, I'll take you home," he offered.

I shook my head. This caused him to run a hand through his already messy, beautiful dark brown hair. He didn't look Bengali. He looked more like a mix of Arab and Bengali blood, although that wasn't the case. I had to admit Zakir could be a male model. He had well defined muscles and looked good in anything.

"You have school. Come on, your father would want you to go to school. Please Zaynub. Do it for him," he pleaded.

I let out a sigh and got up. I kissed Baba's cheek before I left. Oh Allah, please help him. Zakir walked me to his car and I sat in the back seat. What? I still didn't like him and it's haram (forbidden) for a boy and girl who are not related to be that close to each other.

We drove in silence. An awkward silence, but none of us dared to break the thin ice that surrounded us. Finally, we were home. I ran out of the car to my room, and buried my head in my pillow. I started to cry again. Baba was dying and it had been three days! I finally cried myself to sleep.

* * * *

I woke up the next morning and prayed Fajr. I went downstairs and made breakfast for everyone before I left the house. I made my way to campus. Today was going to be a long day.

It was lunch time, so I ran out of the class. I was walking to my car when one of the popular girls stopped me in my tracks. She was this red-haired girl named Chole.

"Where do you think your going?" she asked in a snobby voice.

"To lunch?" I said confused on where this was going.

"You realize no man is ever going to like you because of that," she said pointing at my hijab.

"What makes you so sure about that?" I asked knowing that I was going to win this argument.

"Puh-lease, that hides your beauty. You look ugly with it on and no one can see your body because you never show it. It's stupid," she stated.

"Basically your saying me dressing modestly makes me unattractive? Well, for your information I don't wear my headscarf to please you. I wear it to please my Lord. I dress modestly for Allah. It's my religion. My choice. Plus, a guy doesn't chose you for the way you look. They chose you for who you are and your personality," I said.

I was used to people telling me my hijab made me stupid or ugly. I was pretty sure the words that just flew out of my mouth made her speechless. Everything I said was true. She can't deny it. With that said I walked past her and went to my car.

I drove to a frozen yogurt shop near campus. I ordered mango flavor because it was my favorite. As I was eating my frozen yogurt a very familiar guy walked in. Zakir. Come on, why is he everywhere? I quickly turned away. Please don't see me. Please don't see me.

"Zaynub?" he asked.

Oh man, he saw me.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question," I replied.

He narrowed his eyes at me. I just shrugged it off.

"I came here to eat lunch," he said.

"So did I," I admitted.

"Do you have a thing against me or something?" he questioned.

What is this? He's like asking me so many questions. Can I not eat in peace anymore?

"No," I replied.

"Anyway, how was your day?" he asked.

"Are we playing fifty questions or something?" I snapped.

"What a wonderful idea. I would love to play," he smirked.

I faced palmed myself.

"Why am I surrounded by idiots?" I muttered under my breath.

"Maybe you're the idiot," he said.

I stuck my tongue out at him. He just laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah, real mature, Zaynub. Tsk tsk tsk I expected more from you," he grinned.

"That's a shame isn't it? Maybe you expect too much from me," I playfully smiled.

"Haha real stupid," he replied sarcastically.

"Hey, you stole my line," I playfully yelled.

"It's my line now," he said.

"You're such a cheater," I whined.

"Not my fault you suck at word play," he replied.

I narrowed my eyes at him, until my phone's alarm went off. Lunch period was almost over. I jumped out of my seat.

"I'm sorry but I have to get back to class. Assamualaikum," I rushed.

I left before he responded. Hey, I am barely ever late to class. I was probably only late to class twice, but I had a pass. I'm a goody-goody, what can I say?

I drove back to campus. I only had five minutes before class was going to start, and I had to deal with a horrible scene in from of me. A couple was making out on school grounds! What the heck?! I'm trying to get to class not watch this. I covered my eyes as I walked around them. That was the definition of gross.

I was in Spanish class and we were getting our test results back. When I got my test results back, I swear my jaw hit the ground. I got a sixty seven percent on the test. What? I couldn't have gotten that. No, I'm a straight A student. This was impossible. What would my parents think? I was on the verge of tears until my professor told me to stay after class.

"Zaynub, what happened," I knew he was talking about the test.

"I-I don't know," I half whispered. I was still in shock.

"Did you study?" he asked.

"Yes sir. For two hours," I replied.

"I don't get it. You are one of my best students. I am very shocked by your results. I'm sorry, but if you don't get a passing grade on the writing section then you have failed my class and can't move on. This may affect your grade as well," he sighed.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

My grade is at risk here, so are my chances of going to medical school. If I did good on the writing section then I get a passing grade. If not then I am in some deep trouble. Oh Allah, please help me.

I got up and left my classroom. I only had one class left and I would be done for the day. I couldn't focus in my class. All I could think about was that grade. It was like haunting me. While I was worrying my head off, I didn't realized that class was over.

Still in shock, I walked over to my car. I needed coffee before I went home. The stress was killing me on the inside. I parked my car, and instantly hated the scene in front of me. I saw Aaliya in the middle of a group of boys.

"Get away from me!" she screamed.

At that the boys laughed. Were they trying to rob her or something? I didn't want to wait and find out, so I ran to to them.

"Leave. Her. Alone," I said with clenched teeth.

"Who's going to make us?" one of the boys seethed.

"Me and the cops," I smirked knowing I would win.

When I mentioned the cops the boys ran out of my sight. I fist pumped in victory. The I went to give Aaliya a hand.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Those boys were drunk and started bothering me," she replied coldly.

"Aaliya, you need to be more careful," I sighed.

"I know and thank you for helping me," she smiled.

"My pleasure. Do you want a latte? It's on me," I offered.

She nodded her head, and walked in with me. We started talking about stuff that has happened lately. I told her about Zakir, Baba, my Spanish test, and basically everything.

"I'm sorry about your dad," she said sympathetically.

"It's okay. All anyone can do now is make duaa," I said with tears threatening to fall.

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. Aaliya sighed and walked over to me. She wrapped her arms around me and allowed me to cry on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Zay-Zay. Allah will guide you In Shaa Allah," she said using my nickname.

I silently sobbed onto her shoulder. I felt so broken. In three days so much has happened. I just needed to let everything all out. We stayed like that for 15 minutes, before I realized I had to get home to do my homework and visit Baba.

"Thanks for being here for me during this tough time," I thanked Aaliya.

"You would have done the same. Assalamualaikum," she smiled.

"Waalaikumsalaam," I returned the smile and walked back to my car.

It was currently 5:37 pm. I was too focused on the road to realize that a car was coming right at me. It happened so suddenly.

It was like a bad dream. I heard a crash and tires screeching as my forehead collided with the steering wheel, my seatbelt constricting my chest in a terrifying halt.

There was a terrible pain in my leg. When I looked down, I saw blood coming out in dripping ooze, and harsh scratches on my arms. Something warm was on my head, trickling down with dulling pain When I touched my forehead, I felt something wet. Blood. My blood. I heard sirens go off before I blacked out. All I remember is saying one last prayer to Allah.