"You can't take a leave as soon as you've rejoined Ms. Zoya Malik." The blonde woman stated, the British accent rolling off her tongue making every word more profound. Zoya always yearned to speak with such clarity but could only dream of it.

"I understand that Ma'am. But the new semester starts around next week. I'm only asking for that one week of concession." The chancellor's frown only grew as she observed the time on her wrist watch and sighed.

"You're perfectly aware that all the material and assignments are delivered in that very first week of classes. I'm unable to help you with this. You have got to come otherwise later you'll be begging your professors and I can guarantee you, they do not care and would gladly award you a zero."

Zoya managed a forced smile and thanked the chancellor for her time. She stood, grabbing her bag as she greeted Mrs. James one last time and departed to the bus station.

The sun greeted her as she stepped out of the tall building. It was a fairly warm morning. She shrugged at herself for bringing an umbrella along her journey. After all, the weather forecast was mostly unreliable in Seattle.

She walked down the street to the bus station. Last night, her scooter had officially called it quits and stopped functioning at all: the brakes weren't working either; therefore, Bilal finally agreed upon getting it checked.

Buses were crammed but fun to ride. She didn't have to put in any effort and could think about stuff without an interruption as she watched the world pass by.

These days her mind was flooded with Zaib.

She didn't want to think of him so much but her heart was stronger pulling strings faster. The second she found herself unoccupied, her mind raced to flash the memory of his eyes staring into hers with his smile lifting his lips and she smiled like an idiot. She felt light-headed upon every thought of him, a plunging feeling in her stomach at play.

Before he left that Friday, he smiled at her directly and walked out of the house. Later when the house was quiet, Bilal visited her room to 'talk' to her about something.

Bilal seemed smug as he quirked his eyebrows at his little sister and teased her regarding Zaib. When she was about to kick him out, he broke the news to her.

"Zaib wants your number."

Her eyes zeroed. Her heart was ready to explode as she scrambled off her bed and lunged towards her brother. "What are you saying! He what—" she roared almost waking up their parents. Bilal chuckled at her over-dramatized reaction.

"I—no! He can't have my number. I don't even know how to talk to a random guy—let alone him! There's no way I'll know how to talk to Zaib," she declared, almost as if she was talking to herself contemplating whether it was really that bad of an idea.

"Don't give him my number Bilal!" She concluded panic stricken. It was weird but she didn't know how to talk to men outside work or formal purposes. With her zero-to-no experience with guy friends, she would only end up in awkward situations if she tried. She didn't want to make things weird with Zaib.

"Can you stop screaming! My ears are hurting," his palms flattened against his ears as he stared at his sister maddeningly. Zoya could be really fierce at times.

She inhaled a good amount of air, attempting to calm herself down but her heart couldn't stop thundering so she whipped back towards Bilal. "He asked for my number? From you?"

Bilal nodded letting out an in unpleasant chuckle. He was getting on her nerves. "He asked. I've given it already—"

She gasped, throwing herself onto her brother in an attempt to shake him senseless. "You're kidding!" She quaked, her eyes larger than the gap between her two ears. Her free hand traveled to his ear, pinching it sharply.

Bilal groaned, pushing her off and running to the corner of the room. "God, you're so annoying! Stop attacking me woman!" He seemed to have run out of breath gazing at her terrified. When it came to Zoya's anger, that woman would do a 180 in her personality and her regular kindness would escape to another dimension.

He noticed how pale she went so he quickly interrupted. "I'm kidding for God's sake! He told me to get your permission first."

The face returned to its color as she relieved a heavy sigh. She needed to ready herself for anything like that. She flopped onto her bed, trying to catch her breathe.

"Wait... doesn't baba need to give permission?" She muttered, eyeing her fidgety fingers.

She heard her brother chuckle. "Zaib's ten steps ahead of you: already taken permission and granted." She couldn't resist the smile curve her lips but it faltered immediately as she thought of talking to him, forgetting about the other reason she couldn't talk to him.

Looking at Bilal's face, she suddenly remembered why she really couldn't talk to him.

"No, I can't talk to him."

Bilal stared annoyed at her stubbornness. "Why? Zoya he won't misuse it. Trust—"

"That's not the issue Bilal." She nibbled on her lower lip and rubbed her palm against her forehead. "I'm so awkward when talking to men. I can't have a proper conversation," she explained, clenching her fingers tightly.

"He'll get bored and regret it."

"You look embarrassed to admit you're awkward when talking to men. It's not a bad trait Zoya; it's actually a good thing. You're modest which makes you shy and uncomfortable around them. What's wrong with that?" Bilal retorted, his eyes softening.

"Yeah but he won't like—" Bilal smiled interrupting her. "You're you. If he wants to marry you, he has to like the you, you really are." Bilal's wordings weren't exactly the best but his attempts of comforting her were gold.

She was consoled but reluctant.

"You can text for the first few days if you're not ready."

The silence prolonged for minutes seeming longer than hours. Bilal had already started to take minuscule steps towards the exit, admitting defeat when she broke the quiet.

"Give it to him."

The bus stopped. Upon noticing the familiar street, she stood to exit the vehicle. Saying her salam to the Muslim bus driver (recognizable by the Makkah key-chain near the steering wheel), she stepped out and walked home still clutching her phone. She had been holding onto it yesterday night and fell asleep with the phone within her grasp. The entire today, she roamed the streets with the device still at her side.

She would never admit it was because of him. Perhaps her mother could call and maybe— she wouldn't hear it. Yeah.

As she opened the door to her home, she was met with Naimat sitting on the couch munching on some slices of orange.

She hopped out and dashed to Zoya's side. "We have so much to plan. Why're you taking rounds at the university you nerd!" She complained. Zoya rolled her eyes, sauntering to the couch before dropping tiredly.

"Our parents' have settled a day for the engagement," she stated, smiling ear to ear. Zoya smiled in return. "I know."

"Isn't it amazing? We'll get engaged and perhaps married the same day. This is so exciting!" She roared, her eyes brightening up the entire room.

"I know. It doesn't even seem real. Everything's happened so fast," Zoya told Naimat.

"Alright so, when are you going for shopping? I asked my mother about it but she won't let me. Apparently it's a dumb tradition to have the man shop for the woman. Isn't it ridiculous?" Zoya almost gasped.

"That's so strange. Why can't we go shopping for our own things?" Zoya mumbled, unhappy with the so called tradition. Naimat sighed. "Wait, if my mother persuades your mom, the same thing will happen to you!"

Zoya went blank. Oh no.

-:-

"Mom, I want to buy my own things! What's the point of a wedding if I can't even look like what I want to."

The debate prolonged from the moment Naimat left in the morning till the evening. Nothing was sorting out and Zoya kept scrunching on to her hair, hoping she'd find some common ground with her persistent mother.

"For the last time today, stop talking to me about this. I'm tired of it. You're not going shopping and that's the end of it." Bilal didn't interject either since he was already told to shut up once by his mother regarding the topic.

Zoya released her frustration through a sigh and turned away, dashing into the safety of her room, away from her mother's tantrums. She grabbed the book off her desk and threw herself onto the bed.

Recently she had started reading the biography of Russel M. Nelson's greatest surgeries and couldn't debunk the untamable excitement that entranced her when she thought of performing a surgery one day on her own. Russel's methods were slightly difficult but unique.

Her phone beeped. She kept her eyes on the words of the book as she reached forward for her phone on the side table. The screen lit up and she read the text message.

Salam

She jerked up, her widened eyes, tracing the text again and again. He finally texted her. Zaib finally texted her. She gulped before typing down a reply.

Wa Alaykum Aslam

You won't ask who it is?

I know it's you Zaib. Bilal told me.

So... you've been waiting for me to text?

I didn't say that...

You didn't deny it either

Get to the point :).

Wat r you up 2?

Uhh... do you actually text like that.

Zoya found the new texting slangs and misspelled words annoying. She solemnly believed it ruined the generations' ability to spell and use grammar correctly. Naimat once used 'w8' instead of 'wait' and Zoya didn't text her for a week straight just to signify the importance of proper writing.

Like wat?

Like an amateur? I bet you use 'f9' instead of 'fine'

💀 are you srsly upset abt tht

You have good English skills please use them.

Alright f9

Oof. I meant fine. :)

It's a pet peeve :). So how're you doing?

Alright, noted. I'll take care. Now that you've taken interest in me, Alhamdulillah what about you?

I'm fine Alhamdulillah

When are you starting uni Zoya?

Zoya smiled to herself. He took interest even in the minor matters related to her.

Insha Allah 14 July.

Oh the engagement dates have been settled for the 15th.

Yeah I know :/

I'll speak to my parents we can settle it for later.

No! There's no need for that.

The first week of university is always hectic you can't miss it.

She felt her heart tug. She could imagine his green eyes larger than usual filled with concern and it melted her.

I know but Naimat is very excited to have the engagement on the same day as ours. I'll work something out.

Honestly, Zoya didn't have the slightest idea regarding the issue. She was clueless, following her fate. Worrying didn't lead to anything either.

What time is ur first class?

Your*

She bursted into a giggle. Somehow, him correcting his habit for her, was adorable.

Why is that important?

Just tell me

Three PM.

Ceremony ends at two precise. I'll drive you right after

She almost dropped her phone.

you're kidding

nope

Really? You'd do that? On the engagement day? My parents have already told me to skip the first week because no one will allow?

Her parents prioritized the ceremony more than Zoya's university business.

I promise you, you'll never lose something important to you because of me.

Zoya's chest tightened with a feeling so foreign, she stopped functioning for a second. It wasn't like the love she felt for her friends, nor her brother, not even her parents. She wanted to tell him about the strange tingling and contentment but couldn't find the words to jot down.

You there?

Her eyes gleamed.

You've made a lot of promises in a span of days Mr. Zaib Abdul Khan.

Well, you should know that I don't leave any unfulfilled

We'll see about that

Insha Allah ;)

(seen 17:40 pm)

Wink. He sent her a wink. She dropped the phone, burying herself into her blanket as her stomach did bellyflops. Her abdomen seemed like a trampoline on which the butterflies bounced uncontrollably. Zoya tried to imagine his green eyes winking at her and she bursted into a ticklish giggle.

She realized the phone had fell out of her grasp and quickly rummaged through the blanket.

Also, are you going shopping for the engagement? I've to go tomorrow

(seen 17:41 pm)

Zoya ?

(seen 17:41 pm)

Zoya Malik don't you dare leave me hanging :/

Sorry, I had to do something.

She blushed. How stupid could she be? For a second, she was glad this wasn't a phone call. She would've embarrassed herself more than necessary.

thank God you're still here.

so are you going shopping for the engagement?

:/

?

My mother says I can't go shopping.

Wdym?

what do you mean*

Zoya enjoyed the way he kept fixing his slang language just to impress her.

She'll call your mother soon and talk about this strange 'tradition' where apparently the female is not allowed to shop for herself instead the guy's family does it :/

what? why? did you talk to her?

Yeah. She won't listen.

:/

It's okay. You better choose something top notch, out of the ordinary. Stunning and modest.

I suck at fashion. You're doomed

😔 guess I'll have to make my own dress

I'll work something out.

It's pointless. My mom's not having it.

I'll have to go. Mama needs help in kitchen.

Alright... btw what did you save my number as?

By the way*

She gasped inaudibly. In the mist of the excitement, she had forgotten to name him.

Uh...

Don't tell me you-!

:)

You've been talking to 'Unknown Number' all this time!?

I forgot! Hold up

Zoya quickly pressed to save his contact number.

I bet you named me 'The Most Handsome Man I've Ever Laid Eyes Upon'

💀 Whatever you say

:) what did you save it as

🤷🏽‍♀️

I'll make you tell me later.

You can help your mother out now. Fee Iman Illah

Fee Iman illah.

Wait Zoya!

Yeah?

Thank you for agreeing to this.

-:-

"Zoe, I talked to Zaib's mother about the shopping." Zoya paused, the fork with a chunk of chicken steak still within her mouth. She awaited the bad news.

"But she told me that she's had pain within her heels for very long and Zaib won't have the slightest clue about what to get you, so he suggested you go shopping with him." She dropped the fork, her eyes wide and ablaze with excitement. She flashed an uncontainable smile and ran to her room, grabbing her phone from the table.

His text awaited her.

You're welcome ;)

💘