Rebellion
By Yives
Fatima was eighteen today. Her peers would have celebrated this day by going out to dinner with their family or drinking and partying with their friends. However, Fatima would spend the day studying for her calculus exam and helping her mom around the house. No one in their family would even acknowledge the day since they were devout Muslims who didn't recognize such occasions.
Fatima opened another tab on her laptop and opened youtube. The first video to show up in her recommendations was a makeup tutorial for dark skinned Black women. Although she was never allowed to wear makeup Fatima still liked to watch videos on makeup hauls and tutorials. Fatima liked to think that she would one day be able to use all of the knowledge she acquired over the years. There was a knock on her bedroom door and Fatima quickly exited out of the youtube screen.
Abdul, her youngest sibling, poked his dark, round face into her bedroom. "Fatima! Mama wants you to help her with lunch!" After Abdul made this announcement he ran down the carpeted hallway giggling. Fatima sighed and got up from her desk, stretching. She grabbed her slip-on hijab and put it on in case her father decided to bring a guest home after he left the mosque. As the local imam he was the unofficial leader of the Somali community. And as the leader he often entertained guests on short notice.
Fatima smelled the smoke as soon as she entered the hallway. Her mother was a lovely woman but she wasn't the best cook. She often relied on Fatima to do the family's cooking.
"Fatima!"
Fatima entered the kitchen. Her mother was swearing under her breath and removing the batteries from the alarm. Fatima grabbed the oven mitts, went over to the stove, opened the oven door, and then removed the burnt biscuits. She tossed the entire pan into the sink before turning off the oven. Without skipping a beat she went over to the fridge and grabbed bread, sliced cheese, butter, and the tuna salad she premade the day before. Fatima took out the electric griddle and began assembling the tuna sandwiches to grill. Her mother, seeing what Fatima was up to, went to the pantry and grabbed chips and juice boxes. Her younger sister, Omirah, was setting the tables. Eight plastic cups and plates meant for their mother and all seven of the children. The sounds of children playing and laughing drifted in from the living room.
"Jazakallah Khair, Fatima." her mother said before planting a kiss on her cheek.
After fatima finished grilling the tuna sandwiches she took a fresh bottle of dill pickles from the pantry. She then called her siblings in to eat at the kitchen table. Amid the chaos of her siblings scrambling to get to their plates Fatima heard the roar of a truck belonging to Nate Weinstein. Fatima turned to the picture window and saw Nate exiting his vehicle. Fatima breath caught in her throat. Nate was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and nike's. Showing off all his chiseled glory. Standing 6'2 with a tan and jet black hair. Nate locked eyes with her and Fatima dissociated from her body. They stared at each other until Nate's mother came out of the house and called him in. He lifted his chin towards Fatima before turning away. Fatima stood there until her mother yelled at her for letting her food go cold.
After dinner that night Fatima stood in her darkened bedroom and watched the window of Nate's bedroom. The curtain was drawn but the lights were on. Fatima imagined Nate was on his bed, naked and reading a book like some sexy intellectual. She wondered if he would remember locking eyes with her and if he would look at her like that again at school tomorrow.
In the morning Fatima chose a red, satin abaya and a black, slip-on hijab. She put them on before applying clear lip gloss and black eyeliner. The only makeup her father permitted. When she went downstairs she heard her father and mother in the kitchen talking.
"Assalamu alaikum." Fatima said in greeting.
"Asalam Alikum." her parents said in unison.
Fatima went over to the fridge and grabbed turkey bacon and eggs to make breakfast. Her parents continued talking and from what Fatima overheard her parents were discussing a Somali girl in their community that had fallen pregnant from a secret boyfriend. Her father complained about the lack of modesty among Muslim youth while her mother claimed the last days were near. Her parents had met nineteen years ago shortly after her father moved from Somalia. Her mother was a new convert and had gone to the mosque for classes where she met Fatima's father. Her mother was African American but the different cultures didn't stop her parents from falling in love and seven children later here they all were.
After the family ate breakfast Fatima loaded up the four eldest children into her minivan and dropped them off at the middle school before driving herself to the local high school. Her parents had finally let her buy a car over the summer after Fatima convinced them she could use the car for college. She used the money her father's mother had left for Fatima in her will. Fatima was glad to have it. The short time she managed to be in the car herself were some of the only times Fatima had true privacy. She listened to music and youtube videos on her cellphone, both forbidden in her home. She talked to her friends on the phone without worrying about someone overhearing and she even listened to celebrity gossip.
Fatima arrived at school and since she was running behind she had to take a spot near the back of the parking lot meaning that she would have to walk past the cool kids to get to the building. As one of the few Muslim kids at their affluent school she was always self conscious. She parked and took a few minutes to do a calming breathing exercise before exiting her minivan. Fatima lowered her head and began making her way through the crowd. Fatima liked to walk as fast as she could in crowds. Figuring that the faster she walked the faster she could get to her destination and away from the crowds. She heard laughter, shouts, and music as her peers relished the time they had before class was in session. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw she was almost to the metal detectors. She exhaled right before colliding with a wall.
Except it wasn't a wall but a strong, muscular chest. A chest that smelled of laundered cotton and sandalwood. Fatima looked up and froze. It was Nate. Nate had one arm on each of Fatima's forearms and Fatima was grateful because she didn't know if she could stand on her own.
"You okay?" Nate had an amused look on his handsome face.
It took Fatima a minute to realize he was talking to her, actually talking to her!
