Safoora POV:
Me, Hawa, mom and Aunt Hajara were all seated in the living room doing nothing but chatting. I was dying out of boredom, listening to the mothers talk was so dull and boring. Hawa on the hand, had her Quran sprawled open in front of her humming the verses softly, totally in her world. I groaned, there was nothing to do, not even Quran since I was not praying. I was lying on the sofa, lazily blowing up my gum and popping it.
"Mom, I am going out to my friends." Abu Hurairah shouted, peeping in the living room with only a midnight coloured T-shirt and slightly black ripped jeans. He took his white-and-blue plaid shirt from the coat rack and began struggling with it while his hair fell messily over his face.
"Yeah, okay." Aunt Hajara nodded.
"Stop staring at him, go say bye." Mom ordered.
"Nope," I shook my head stubbornly, popping my gum. Abu Hurairah glanced at me once before looking away ignorantly while I did the same.
"When are you two going to get along?" Mom mumbled to herself, shaking her head in disappointment.
Don't get me wrong, I was not checking him out. Not at all! I was looking at him with utter distaste, I mean does a Hafiz or a normal practicing muslim even dress like that? I understand that ripped clothes are the trend these days but that doesn't mean you follow what the disbelievers do. Okay fine, don't wear a thobe ... but at least dress decently!
Suddenly a lightbulb popped in my head. Yes, I was going to make his life a living hell!
I quietly tiptoed out of the living room only to be stopped by Hawa's stern voice, "Where are you going with that evil smile?" I immediately stopped dead in my tracks and looked back smugly at her stern face. Darn it, how did these people read me like an open book?
"Uh, fresh air!" I lied, plastering a fake smile on my face.
"Lying?" She cocked her eyebrows.
"Kinda..." I guiltily chuckled, "I'll fill you in later, I'm kinda running late cause Abu Hurairah's on the run at the moment."
"Again something to do with Hurairah?" She looked at me with boredom, drumming her fingers on the sofa ledge.
I nodded energitically and dashed out of the house in a quick haste before anyone could stop me. After climbing the biggest tree beside our house with a hose and few buckets, I jumped on the roof landing perfectly on the slates. Yup, call me crazy... cause I was totally one right now!
"Saff, what are doing?" Umme Qulsum yelled loudly, she was playing in the backyard with her sand bucket and shovel. Come on! Does she have to yell that loud, Abu Hurairah might hear?
"Shh," I pressed my finger firmly on my lips.
"Why do I have to 'shh'?" She shouted even louder.
I facepalmed myself, "Be quiet please!" I begged.
"No tell me or I'll be louder!" She frowned stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.
YOU ARE READING
His Hafizah and her Hafiz
SpiritualHuzaifah and Safoora are siblings attending a faraway islamic boarding school where memorizing the Quran and academic education is compulsory. They are forced to keep their sibling relationship a secret by their parents, who has threatened them to g...
