Felafel

                                    

                                          
"Do they have felafels?" Mum asks, walking a few steps behind me and with Noah alongside her.
                          
"The best." Noah replies. I turn to him as he kicks a twig into the gutter. "You should try them tonight."
                          
"We'll see." I shrug and turn back ahead, where I can almost see the colourful lights of the Kebab hut, adding vibrancy to an otherwise dark and dull suburban street.
                          
"Hana's a creature of habit," Mum starts up, earning an over the shoulder look of annoyance from me, as Noah looks between us with an amused expression. "Don't look at me like that, it's true."
                          
I turn to Noah. "It's not." He nods as his smile pushes up on his cheeks revealing his deep laugh lines, making my heart skip a vital beat.
                          
"I'll take your word for it." He says as he stuffs his hands into his jumper pockets.
                          
"No she is," Mum continues, turning to me now "You always stick to what you know. Whenever we go anywhere you only eat Smiths Cheese and Onion chips, classic Cornettos , Filet-o-fish, oh and maybe, just maybe you'll have sushi. If you're feeling adventurous."
                          
"No." Noah sounds overly aghast as he turns to me. "You don't like sushi?"
                          
"It's not a favourite. I don't like tuna and there's nothing else that's halal to put in it." I shuffle my feet, looking down at them as I kick a seed into the piles of leaves creating an earthy edge along the footpath.
                          
"There are vegetarian options- avocado and carrot is a beauty." He ruffles his hair and pushes it over his head. I wrinkle my nose and shake my head and turn away; I don't miss Noah's smile though at my distaste.
                          
I lead the way into the Kebab hut, welcomed by the all too loud tabla music and bright lights. There's a couple already seated at one of the circular plastic tables, digging into a large shared plate and chatting relaxedly.
                          
"Well this place is something." Mum comments as she comes to stand by me at the counter.
                          
"Mm."
                          
"What are you getting?"
                          
"Yiros and coke." I drum my fingers on the metal counter top as I wait for Saleem or another co-worker to take our orders. Mum turns to Noah and asks him for his order, to which he nods his head at me and replies 'same'.
                          
Saleem walks out from the back, in his usual black and stained apron and unwithering smile. "Noah, my boy." He greets him, leaning over the counter slightly to firmly shake his hand.
                          
"Amu, how's it goin'?"
                          
"Yeah, yeah, not bad." He nods and lets his gaze travel between mum and me.
                          
"Hana, yeah?" I nod my head with a smile, feeling oddly satisfied that he managed to remember my name after only two fleeting visits.
                          
"This is my mum." I motion to her, who gives him a smile and a 'hello'.
                          
"Like I said, an friends of Noah, are friends of mine." He acknowledges, patting his chest proudly. "Now what are you feeling tonight?"
                          
~*~
                          
"So," Mum begins as she sips on her Sprite, "Hana tells me you're a convert." The question catches me completely off guard, stopping me mid bite into my yiros and staring wide eyed at Noah sitting opposite me. Noah, places his food back on his plastic plate and licks mayo off his thumb and finger without speaking. Neither of us speak and mum turns to me unsurely. "She says you're learning to be a proper Muslim."
                          
"I am." He nods briefly, and glances at me before back to mum. "I didn't think she'd tell anyone." His voice seems casual and he brushes his words off with a seamlessly careless shrug, but my heart beats rapidly in my chest before rising up with bile into my throat. I can sense mum staring at my profile, but all I can think of is 'what have I done?' I didn't know he didn't want to tell anyone, how was I supposed to? He told me himself- I didn't pry or ask him anything about it.