Dawud.

Chapter 13: Talk of the Town

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

Jannah's P.O.V

Today was Friday which meant that my father was giving a Khutba (Sermon) at the local Masjid and leading all the prayers, Mariam was spending the weekend with Abdallah's parents and I was home.. Alone.

It was a sunny day outside, which contrasted against the gloomy aura surrounding my father's house. It was heartbreaking being kicked out for such a small and petty matter but Mariam and I tried to be as positive as possible. I understood where my mother was coming from and so did my sister, it's just that kicking us out was—and I say this honestly—ridiculous.

I pulled the curtains apart, spilling light all over the living room. I rushed to the kitchen and then to all the rooms upstairs, pulling apart the curtains and bringing sunshine to the darkness. After that, I lit some charcoal cubes and put them in a little stone cone (*see picture above) over a few perfumed rocks. This created a rising smoke that smelt wondrous. I walked around the house with this in hand, filling the rooms and hallways with the refreshing smell. After this, I made my wudhu and sat on my prayer mat in the living room, waiting for Asr.

On the authority of Abu Hurayrah (may Allah be pleased with him), the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: Allah (mighty and sublime be He) says: The first of his actions for which a servant of Allah will be held accountable on the Day of Resurrection will be his prayers. If they are in order, then he will have prospered and succeeded: and if they are wanting, then he will have failed and lost. If there is something defective in his obligatory prayers, the Lord (glorified and exalted be He) will say: See if My servant has any supererogatory prayers with which may be completed that which was defective in his obligatory prayers. Then the rest of his actions will be judged in like fashion.

This really impacted me. I mean, every Muslim—apart from certain exceptions—has to pray the five obligatory prayers, yet we neglect this command and spend our time on other things. I mean, how can we not make time for the one who created time?

I prayed Asr and read Ayatul Kursi because, for the one who reads Ayatul Kursi right after ever obligatory Salah, the only thing separating him from paradise is death. How amazing is that?

My phone rang and I reached out my arm to grab it. It was Muna. "Hello?" I answered.

"Hey, Jannah! Your man is killing it! You never told me he was this good at basketball!" Muna exclaimed. She reminded me of an excited school girl.

I bit my lip. "Is he now?" I inquired, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.

"You have to come and see! Oh, the cute guy with the man bun from the bookstore is playing too and he looks so good! He and Dawud are the only guys wearing long sleeve shirts under their jerseys which is so modest!" She squealed.

I felt a hint of jealousy wash over me, causing me to frown unintentionally. "Where's your modesty, girl? Lower your gaze!" I scolded her.

"Fine, fine. Can you come and sit with me? Warsan left me 'cause none of her coworkers offered to take her shift."

I thought about it for a minute. I didn't have much to do today anyways, so leaving wouldn't be an issue, right? I shook my head. "I don't want to be staring at Dawud the whole time! We're not married yet, Muna." My brain scrambled to find some more justifications. "Plus, I've got—"

"Oh, be quiet." She ordered flatly. "It's a fifteen-minute walk from your Dad's house so just come. I need someone to sit with 'cause all of these boys are making me so uncomfortable."

I pushed out my chest defensively. "Why? Where are you sitting? Who are they?" Muna snickered and hung up. That did the trick.

*

I unzipped my coat and slipped it off, holding it in my arms as I entered the building. Silly hats and jerseys were in every corner. Due to the immense amount of people, the air was humid and smelt of body odor. I cringed and rushed to the gymnasium. As soon as I walked in, the smell of popcorn and hotdogs danced in my nostrils. Muna was sat on the other side of the gym, wearing an annoyed look on her face. I walked around the court tentatively.

I heard giggles, whispers and my name being called but I ignored them all. Once I reached Muna, she yanked me by the arm and forced me to sit. I looked at her, startled. "What was that for?" I pressed.

"Listen. This is going to sound weird but you're the talk of the town. I've had—at least—five boys come up to me and ask for and about you." She replied. I watched her eyebrows pull together in worry. "I don't know what it is. We've all been on break since our last exam so.." She trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.

I looked past her to the posse of boys staring at me. They whispered to each other and looked back towards me with grim smiles. I cocked my head to the side and frowned. "Can I help you?" I asked angrily. Muna reached for my hand softly. "Hey, what's going on? This is weird!" I told her with wide eyes.

She nodded and pointed towards the court. "Yeah, I know. Let's just ignore them and watch the game." I nodded.

Dawud was sitting on the bench, drinking Gatorade from a cup. He was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, watching the game. I sighed and looked away. I couldn't look at him again. He was too gorgeous to handle so I forced myself to watch the game. I realized that I was terrible at understanding sports. "I'm going to the washroom, okay? My hijab is unwrapping" I told Muna. She smiled and nodded but I could sense the concern radiating off of her. "I'll be fine, Insha'Allah. Just watch my stuff, kay?"

I stepped down from the bleachers, tripping over spectators and spilling cartons full of popcorn. How embarrassing! When I reached the floor, I looked to my right to see Dawud staring at me. He wiped the corner of his mouth and whispered something to the player next to him, who was the guy from the bookstore. I remember his name being Akhlaaq.

I felt my cheeks flush in frustration. What was everyone whispering about? Did I have something on my face? No—because then Muna would've told me. This made me even more eager to go to the washroom.

As I made my way down the hall, I heard several male voices calling my name from behind. No one was around except us so I tried my best to change course and head to somewhere more crowded and safe.

It turns out, I walked straight into a dead-end.

Chapter Fourteen  ->