“Ya Amatullah! O my dear Amatullah…come here my little sister…” Abdullah sang, waiting patiently at the foot of the stairs for his little sister. They were in fact twins, but Abdullah prided himself in calling Amatullah his little sister, though he was born a merely two minutes earlier. They were great friends, the twins, and loved each other to bits. If one went somewhere, the other had to either follow or be there. He never admitted it, but out of his four sisters and three brothers, she was undeniably his favourite.
Amatullah tumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping on her jilbab – a new black silk one – and bumped straight into Abdullah, who gave her a big hug.
After nearly suffocating for ten minutes, she finally pulled herself away from him, and looked at him carefully. “Have you gone clinically crackers?” she said, failing to maintain her serious face, and burst out into laughter. Abdullah, though not getting the joke, laughed along with her, showing his perfect white teeth.
“Come on you, we have to get going!” he tugged at her, half dragging her across the hallway. She complained for a bit, feebly trying to pull his hand away, then when they were at the door, snatched her hand away from his.
“Where are we going?” she asked
“Disco,” he replied – his most used answer.
“Ha ha, very funny… no really, where?”
“Guess.” He said simply.
Amatullah was growing weary of his not-even-funny jokes, but if she wanted to find out, she had to do it somehow. “Erm, I don’t know, the supermarket?”
Abdullah smirked, and glanced at his watch. “Wow. You must be extremely bad at guessing –“
“Yeah, you should know,” Amatullah muttered, deftly interrupting him. She was expert at that.
“- It’s eleven o’clock, what supermarket would be open now?” he continued as if she said nothing.
“Well, actually, I know quite a few, like Asda, and Morrisons,” she said, just to annoy him, counting them off her fingers.
“Eleven o’clock at night if you hadn’t noticed, Am!” he gestured outside, getting exasperated.
Amatullah laughed with joy at her win, nudging her brother to tell her where they were going to go. The word ‘takeaway’ surprised her a lot. They hadn’t had takeaway in a very long time, ever since they found mouldy food in one, and her mum got food poisoning. She clapped her hands in glee, and jumped into the car, after calling to her mum that she and Abdullah were going out.
Her brother, being a speed freak, flew the car down the road as fast as he possibly could, parking with his well known swerve.
They got out of the car, and talking about college, walked up the main road to the small quiet takeaway, perched on a diminutive road coming off the main.
Inside, Amatullah’s eyes stopped and acquired a strong glare on two of her deeply-engrossed-into-a-fashion-magazine enemies.
Great. Just great. She went with a person she loves to a place she loves to eat food she loves, and then unfortunately, comes across two people who she once loved. Why does life have to be like this?
Sarah – the one who laughed like crazy when she told her declaration – eyed her carefully, her smile turning slowly into a smirk. She immediately whispered to her other friend, one who she (Amatullah) had never seen before, and she glanced up and looked at her, sniggering also.
Amatullah could feel her face burning, and from the reflection in the window, saw her face slowly turning pink. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She turned to her brother, and in Arabic, spilled the beans. She told him everything that had happened since she had confided in them.
He was not happy. He turned around, and walked over to Sarah, tapping her lightly on her shoulder, as if he didn’t even want to touch her. She turned around, and upon seeing him, gave the ugliest expression ever. One Amatullah saw nearly every day. Love.