Salam! So this chapter is dedicated to Shaymastar again because she sparked the idea for this chapter, and I probably would've written something else if it weren't for her!
(Edited)
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"Mariam, wake up," I could hear a familiar voice whisper softly, but I was still encompassed by the blanket of sleep, and I intended to stay that way, until the owner of the voice began shaking me."Mariam, we slept in, so get up."
Now that got me up. I rose from the pillow, ram-rod straight, and turned to my right. Yaz was peering at me with heavy-lidded eyes, her hair hanging around her face like a curtain. I glanced at the radio clock, feeling my stomach drop.
"It's 9am?" I whisper-shrieked.
Yaz nodded, rubbing her eyes. "I have to go," she mumbled.
I sighed. If my parents found out I had snuck out last night I would never hear the end of it. Yaz being here would only make things worse. The house was silent, but I knew it wouldn't be long before my parents woke up, along with Nasr and Zeinab.
"You should at least clean yourself up a bit," I suggested, hopping out of bed. I scratched my hair, which had tumbled out of its sloppy bun I had twisted it in last night, and grabbed my clothes – leggings, t-shirt and a hoodie, the usual Sunday-at-home attire – dressing up while Yaz lay on the bed lazily.
"Yaz, don't you dare fall asleep again," I warned after getting dressed. I poked Yaz's side, but she had already returned to dreamland. Funny since she was the one who woke me up.
"I ain't taking none of this lazy business." So I plucked out a feather that had been poking me all night on my pillow and began to tickle her nose, causing her to twitch. With a sneeze, she woke up, blinking at me in confusion.
"What was that?"
I held up the feather with a mischievous grin. "Your worst enemy," I replied, stroking the feather against her cheek. Yaz flinched away, leaping out of bed in the process.
"Okay, okay, I'm up, just keep that thing away from me. You know I hate getting tickled, especially with a feather," Yaz said, holding up her hands and backing away.
I tossed the feather aside, chuckling. "Well, at least it woke you up. You are so lazy, Yaz."
"Well, it's a Sunday, can you blame me?" Yaz stretched her arms over her head, yawning. "Can I stay here for a bit? I don't want to go home just yet."
"Why?" I asked.
Yaz bit her lip. "I had a dream."
My mouth gaped in mock shock. "No way, me too!"
Yaz rolled her eyes, smiling a little at my antics. "I think my dream meant something, you know, like a spiritual revelation?"
I blinked at my friend in disbelief. "Did you just use two big words in one sentence?"
Yaz sat back on the edge of the bed where I was, grabbing my pillow and throwing it at me. "Hey!"
"Don't tease me, I'm being serious here," Yaz really did look serious, so I hugged the pillow she threw at me and listened to her dream.
"This dream was different to my other dreams. I feel like it was a message, and I think I should listen to it," Yaz took a deep breath before continuing. "I saw myself in a mirror, and I was wearing a hijab, with a long dress down to my ankles."
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Converting the Bad Boy ✔
SpiritualMariam is a devoted Muslim. She goes about her high school life in the remembrance of Allah (S.W.T) and never misses a prayer. She is considered a "good girl," being nice to everyone and treating them equally. But then there's Damian, the one guy th...