Wattpad username:

Scatteredpearls

Book name:

Woven

Write up:

(I don't know how the schooling in Pakistan works, this is mash-up of british/asian/american schooling.. >.< please ignore the little details.)

The smile on Ahmed’s face could rival the sun glinting though the clouds overhead. 

Mama patted his head and before she could start ruffling his hair and muss it up, he ducked away from. His schoolbag slung from a should as he scowled. “Mama, not a child anymore. I’m in high school now!”

“Beta, even if you become a grandfather, it still won’t change the fact I changed your nappies,” his mother grinned. “Nervous?”

The entrance to Lakeside High was bustling with parents dropping off their kids for the first day. Some parents lingered at the side giving their reluctant children pep talks, while others patted their shoulders and sent them forward. 

“No way,” Ahmed laughed. Though, his mother detected a tinge of nervousness in it. “Everyone knows each other. Pretty sure my classmates are all gonna be the same.” 

“Alright, behave, do your best and don’t mess around.”

“Kay, kay. Salam.”

Ahmed hitched the strap off his bag up his shoulder. Despite the fact he had to repeat the motion several times throughout his way into the classroom, he refused to sling both straps onto his shoulders. So uncool. 

In an area like this, there was only one high school. Almost everyone knew each other and their mothers’ affairs. Perhaps some of his former classmates have decided to go farther out the town, majority still ended up here. As evident by the familiar faces he encountered upon stepping into the classroom. 

“Heey,” A short, stout boy called him. This was Qasim, he was quite friendly with Ahmed in their previous school. “You’re quite late!”

“Late?” Ahmed snorted. “More like everyone is too early. What, is going to school trending now?”

“It’s high school, bro. The feel is different.” 

“Whatever, what’s happening?”

“Introductory assembly. Our homeroom teacher will come to take us to the auditorium.”

Although the classroom must have been set up very cleanly, now it was a disorganised mess. Chairs pulled over to create little huddles, bags placed by the foot of the desks, and the students’ chatters buzzing in the air, rather like irritating bees.

After Ahmed, a few more stragglers came followed by the homeroom teacher. He was solid, square-faced man, expressionless, giving the idea that no nonsense will be tolerated. He spoke like it too. A quick introduction and run-through of some important information. Before long, they were all lining up to head into the auditorium for the school-wide assembly. 

Qasim and Ahmed walked together, perfunctorily greeting their other classmates and casually discussing about their friends circle and who went where.

“Shaffaq, Suhayl and Adnaan are in Class B,” Qasim muttered, “it’s just us two in Class A.” 

Of course, it wasn’t just two of them from their school, rather two of them from their friends’ circle. 

“Was wondering why I didn’t see anyone else.”

Just as they entered the auditorium, Ahmed heard someone call out.

“Ahmed Shoukat!” 

He jerked and looked back to see Shaffaq waving his arms wildly. Suhayl and Adnaan were beside him, one looking embarrassed and the other sighing. 

“Good to see the kid hasn’t changed…” Ahmed commented wryly. Vaguely, he saw a few people turn towards him at the call, none of the new students.

Actually, quite a few people turned to place the name to the face. 

“Shoukat? Like Hareem Shoukat?”

“Is that her brother?”

“Must be, who else.”

“Yikes, I wouldn’t wanna be him.”

The voices weren’t quiet. Qasim frowned, trying to make eye contact with Ahmed. Ahmed, who turned and narrowed his gaze, the smile at the corner of his lips gradually diminishing. 

“What the heck is their problem?” 

Ahmed didn’t reply. Discomfort crept into the crevices of his heart, his ears drumming with the noise in the background. 

Last year, he’d heard… stuff.

Although the boys and girls’ facilities were separated, rumours and gossips can make their way into even the most air-tight places, never mind the hot-blooded youths who lived to eat popcorn. The incident revolving around his sister had its way round the entire high school, then down to his previous school. Though the shape of it was lost by then, and most of it was heresy Ahmed could dispel without a thought. 

He knew better than to believe rumours. 

But this reaction, at the mere mention of his surname, dropped a stone into his heart. 

They had to sit according to class. After the assembly, the students all shuffled back to their respective class. As a result, Ahmed and Qasim could only meet up with their remaining friends in the lunch break. They exchanged their first day experiences and laughed over silly things. 

If Ahmed was more quiet than normal, well, no one noticed. 

Perhaps he’d become more sensitive due to this experience, but Ahmed kept feeling like eyes were following him. If someone laughed behind, he jerked and immediately second guess his actions. Once, he came across some of the seniors, sitting in a huddle. They all looked at him with half-smirks on their faces. 

A boy sitting in the middle, legs sprawled, gave a derisive snort. 

Ahmed quickly shuffled away to meet with Qasim who stood a few feet away. Qasim looked between him and the group seniors. 

“The guy in the middle… what’s his name?” Ahmed asked after they’d moved away.

“Zawiyar, I think. He’s quite popular.”

Ahmed kept note of this name. 

When he got home, he messaged Shaffaq. After a few days of waiting and shuffling, Shaffaq sent him a video. Of the school wide assembly. 

Ahmed lay beneath his blanket, earphones and watched the video from start to end. Once, twice. Until his mind was blank. 

After that he put the phone beside him and placed an arm over his eyes. 

His sister… was really stupid. 

The next morning, his gaze fell on Hareem whose eyes were weighed down with dark circles. Mama hovered around her worriedly and Baba watched from the side. Although a newspaper was held loosely in his hands, Ahmed was sure not a word went in his head. 

So worried, so troubled, for his fool of a sister. 

He pursed his lips and looked away from the scene. He couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Eat a few more bites!” Mama called out behind him distractedly. 

Ahmed waved it off. “I’m full.”

A few days later, he and Qasim came across a senior, one of the boys who sat with Zawiyar in front of the staff-room, while helping carry some books for their homeroom teacher. 

“You’re Ahmed, right? Ahmed Shoukat?” The boy grinned, without waiting for confirmation, he rattled off. “The brother of the girl who confessed to my bro in front of the whole school. She really had the guts!” He chortled. 

Ahmed froze, Qasim also stopped beside him, unsure how to react. The senior went away laughing, and Qasim looked at his frozen friend. 

“Mate…”

“It’s nothing,” Ahmed said expressionlessly. “Let’s go.”

The night after watching the video, he steeled himself. As long as he didn’t react to anything, there’s no problem. He’ll just ignore the fact that he had an elder sister. 

He’s been ignoring for a while now, after all. 

When his parents carted off Hareem to the emergency unit, he sat at the side, casually playing some mobile games on his phone. When Hareem locked herself up in her bedroom and their parents argued so hard the floor shook, Ahmed put earphones on and blasted something random to mute the world. 

Yes, he truly has been getting some practice in ignoring these things now. 

The students at school didn’t actually do anything to him directly. He will feel the taunting gazes and half smirks on their faces, especially when his surname came up – but otherwise, it didn’t disturb him. His friends always steered away from that topic. 

One night, he woke up in the middle of the night. His room was neighbors with Hareem’s. The walls were thin so even the slightest movement carried over. Eyes open, he lay listening to the hitching sobs next door. 

Mama and Baba had another massive argument in the evening. Hareem tried to mediate between them only to sent up to her room. Ahmed did not even try. 

Now listening to the hiccups next door, his lips curled into a sneer. 

Once the sound stopped completely, and no movement came from next door. He got out of his bed and went to the kitchen. From the sink, he filled up a glass of water and walked into Hareem’s room. 

It no longer had a lock. 

He placed the glass of water on the bedside and stared at the tear-stricken face sleeping twisted in distress.

His heart ached.

He didn’t know for whom, himself or his parents, or his sister.