08.

                                    

                                          
It was finally Jummah. The one day of the week that I always looked forward to.
When I picked my classes, I had made sure to not have any after 12 on Fridays so I could go to the Masjid, recite Surah Kahf, and spend some extra time with my friends and family.
On this particular Jummah, my whole family had decided to meet up to pray then get food.
My brother's car pulls into the parking slot next to mine. He gets out of his and opens the passenger door to mine.
"I'm surprised you haven't crashed this thing already," is the first thing he says.
"Well hello to you to," I say as I keep scrolling through my phone. "And I'm not that bad of a driver."
"You crashed my car into a tree while you were on a coffee run." His face turns serious at the memory of his black Altima, Rory, headfirst into a huge tree about a block away from our house back in the states.
"How many times have I apologizes for that," I whine. I truly felt bad about it.
"Just because I forgive doesn't mean I'm ever going to let you forget," he says.
And then before I can react he playfully pushes me and runs out of the car. 
"Ahmed," I yell after him as I open my door. "Get your stupid self back here."
"Never," he says as he reaches our parents car and hides behind our mom.
Lord bless. We were adults and still acted like this. 
"Ma, Ahmed slapped me," I whine.
"Snitch," he says as he backs away from mom.
"Only when it comes to you." I blow a little kiss with my hands.
"Beshorom. How about both of you stop acting like children," my mom says in that warning whisper scream of hers. 
We both look at each other and immediately straightened ourselves. 
"Sorry Ma," we both say simultaneously. I avoid looking at Ahmed, knowing that if I did we would both end up laughing. 
Dad joins us and gives both of us a hug.
"Asslamu Alaikum Abbu." I smile.
"Walaikum Assalam. I barely see you around the house anywhere, you're so busy."
"When I finish uni this year I'll be home all the time," I promise him.
"Don't work too hard," he dotes over me.
We all walk in together and we split our separate ways.
The boys sit in the lobby as always and the one who seemed to be the leader, Aariz, skims his eyes over me and smirks. 
Disgusting.
Omar wasn't with them today. I feel a rush of relief wash over me.
I change my attention to the door where I see a couple walking in together with a girl that looked my age trailing behind. Probably the younger sister.
"Don't they look cute," I say to my mother.
She looks at the couple as they walk into the masjid holding hands. He kissed her on the forehead before they went their separate ways. 
"Cyra, don't think about couples, you are still young."
"But what if there's a guy I really like and he's religious and has good income and is respectful and attractive and treats every-" 
My mom interrupts my banter. "If you want to move away from me and leave me and your poor father all alone go ahead." Her voice is one of mock sadness.
I laugh. "I would always visit you ma."