《Converting the Bad Boy ✔》Chapter 5
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(Edited)
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"Oh, not you again."
I had been perfectly fine, listening to the Quran through my earphones and staring out the window of the bus, until he sat next to me. The worst part was, my seat was the last one available, since Damian always got on towards the more congested part of the ride. And as no one else was willing to sit beside the Muslim girl, Damian took this as the opportunity to crowd the only personal space I had left. If only I had put my bag beside me like any smart person would, but it was a Tuesday morning, and I wasn't feeling so tip-top.
"What are you listening to?" Damian thought he had a right to snatch one of my earphones and plug it into his ear, only to pull it out immediately, making a face. "That's not music."
"Yeah, and I'd appreciate if you leave me alone," I snapped, taking back my earphone and reinserting it under my hijab. I increased the volume a little, listening to Surah Maryam, recited by my favourite Sheikh, Saad Al Ghamdi. He read it so beautifully it was almost musical, and I got goose bumps whenever I listened to him. But however loud I made it, I could still hear Damian's voice, because Quran was different to music. It didn't completely drown out the real world.
"I can't exactly do that since there's nowhere else to sit," Damian replied, sounding smug about it. There were people standing, clinging onto the poles and dangly things for balance. Why couldn't he just stand? It'd be easier for the both of us.
I decided to ignore him, no matter what. I was usually good at concentrating, and I just wanted to let Sheikh Ghamdi's melodic voice pronounce the holy words of the Quran into my ear, because there was nothing better than that.
"Hey, Damian, come join us in the back!" I heard Felix call from behind me in his booming voice. He was a friend of Damian's since Year Seven. I shuddered, remembering that dreadful year. It had been the first year I started wearing the hijab, and I truly felt alien to this public school of non-Muslims. You may be thinking – why didn't I just go to an Islamic School? The only problem was, the nearest Islamic school was known for a bad reputation, and the others were either too far or too expensive. My parents figured that it didn't matter where we got our education, as long as we got one, and as long as it was financially convenient – meaning, cheap. Our school wasn't bad or anything, it was a good school, but it wasn't the best, if you know what I mean.
Beside me, Damian shook his head. "Nah, man, it's too crowded. We're nearly there, anyway."
I grimaced. We weren't nearly there, there were still ten minutes left. Meaning, I had to put up with Damian's presence beside me for ten minutes.
"Oh, come on, Damian, just push through!" Felix yelled. He was always yelling. "I'll get these little kids out of the way. Oi, you, make room for the king!" I inwardly groaned. King? Really?
Thankfully, Damian picked up his bag (so he did carry a bag to school, what a shocker) and squeezed through the kids standing around. I knew how awkward it was to get past on a moving bus filled with people, but Damian made it look easy. Of course, with his reputation, he made everything look easy.
I breathed a sigh of relief, plopping my bag beside me in order to ward off any unwanted visitors. Peace at last.
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***
"Damian and Mariam!"
Ya rab, please don't do this to me. I've been good, haven't I? I didn't deserve this.
"There is no way I'm working with him," I protested to Mr Newton. He was either immune to a student's pleas, or just had no sympathy whatsoever.
"You have no choice, Mariam. I left it up to chance, and the chances are right here in my hands," he waved the two pieces of paper with our names on them. Trust Mr Newton to assign us partners using names in a hat. I was starting to lose the reason why he was my favourite teacher in the first place. Oh, wait, that's right – because he always gave me A's.
"But Mr Newton," I wasn't one to beg and whine like this, but I was getting desperate. Across the room, I caught Damian's smirk. Why was he smirking? After embarrassing me in front of the whole class I would have to spend four periods a week for the rest of the year, he had no right to smirk.
"No buts, Mariam. You are working with him, just as Russell is working with Aidan, and Denise is working with Florence, the hat decides all," Mr Newton held up the black trilby hat as if it were an orb swirling with prophecy.
"The hat is stupid," I muttered, folding my arms and sinking in my seat. We were expected to work on a project on the universe, and each pair would be given a different aspect to focus on. I had immediately looked to Denise, excited at the prospect of working with her, just as we had done for the past year in physics. But then Mr Newton had to go and spoil my mood by bringing out his stupid trilby hat. Seriously, what kind of physics teacher carried around a trilby hat?
"Don't hate the hat," Russell whispered to me, waving his fingers inexplicably in the air. "The hat knows all."
I rolled my eyes. "The hat is just as hollow as your head, Russell."
Russell looked offended. "Someone's in a bad mood."
"Can you blame me?" I jutted my chin over to where Damian sat, laughing with Aidan and scribbling something on a piece of paper. No doubt it was something dirty. "I have to work with that."
"Well, I have to work with Aidan," he grumbled.
"Aidan gets straight A's," I pointed out.
"Oh, yeah," Russell brightened up.
"I feel sorry for you, girl," Denise shot me a sympathetic smile.
I shrugged. "It's fine. I'll just end up doing all the work, anyway."
"Oh, and one more thing," Mr Newton added loudly so that everyone could hear. He had finished calling out the names while we were all whispering.
"You and your partner must both do equal amounts of work, or else you both fail," for some reason, he glanced at me, raising his eyebrows pointedly, as if he had heard what I had said. God help me.
"Hey, partner."
I tried not to sigh too heavily as Damian set his battered pencil case on the desk and slumped into the plastic chair, his legs stretched out under the table. I opened my laptop, tapping my fingers on the mouse pad as I waited for it to start up. Damian did the same, drumming out a tune on his keyboard and immediately pissing me off.
"Can you stop that?" I asked as nicely as possible, but you might as well be telling me to touch a rainbow, because it didn't come out nicely at all.
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Damian glanced at me, thankfully obeying my words, but he had a sly look in his eyes. "Why do you hate me?"
I was a little taken aback by his question. "I-I don't hate you," I stuttered.
Damian smiled. "So you like me?"
"What? No! Why are you even asking something as stupid as that?" I was getting flustered. I hated getting flustered. Why was he making me flustered?
Damian chuckled. "Whatever."
My laptop finally started up, and I hastily typed in the password, aware of Damian's eyes on my keyboard. I inched away from him, shifting my laptop so that it faced away from him, but when I pressed enter, four dreaded words appeared on the screen.
Your password is incorrect.
I groaned, typing it again, but each time, I was too preoccupied in not letting Damian know what I was typing, so each time, I pressed a wrong key and got it wrong.
"I'm not going to hack into your laptop if that's what you're so worried about," Damian said in amusement.
I sighed, typing in my password as accurately as possible, making sure it was correct before hitting enter. "Yes!"
Damian shook his head slowly, tutting. "You're so weird."
I shot him a look. "I'm not weird, I'm just careful."
"Or you just have trust issues," Damian shrugged as I downloaded the online resources for our assignment. Ugh, I couldn't believe I had to work with this guy. Trust issues? Could you blame me when this guy called me an alien in front of everyone yesterday?
"My trust isn't something I just give away," I said defensively.
"Kinda like your virginity?" Damian joked.
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "How can you say that? That's disgusting."
Damian leaned toward me, his bottom lip protruding and his eyebrows pinched together. "Aw, is Mariam feeling a little sexually frustrated because she can't have sex until marriage?" he cooed.
I reared away from him, stunned by his words and the way he said them, as if he was pitying me. The only one that should be pitied here was him! People like him were destined straight for hell, unless somehow he changed. But I highly doubted that was ever going to happen.
"Not everyone is a slut like you," I retorted. I didn't think it was my best comeback yet, however Damian's eyebrows were raised so high they almost disappeared into his hairline, which fortunately for him hadn't begun receding yet.
"Slut? Is that what you think of me?" Damian scoffed.
I realized then that perhaps I was being too harsh. Even if he did deserve it. Astaghfirullah I was no better than him! "It's only fair if you think I'm an 'alien'."
Damian laughed. He laughed! I seriously didn't understand him and his twisted sense of humour. "I guess we're even now," he said finally, clutching his stomach, shoulders shaking from his laughs. Was I really that funny?
"Now that we're 'even'," I formed quotation marks with my fingers in the air, "Can we get on with this project?"
Damian nodded. "Yes."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised that he wasn't protesting. People like him were loafers in pair assignments, however for the rest of the period we actually got some research done. We were focusing on how stars were formed, and the lives of stars. It was actually really interesting, even if most of the websites were written by atheist scientists who thought everything just happened by itself. But I knew the real reason behind the creation of the universe, and all praise truly belongs to Allah, for if it weren't for him, we wouldn't be here.
***
"I heard you're working with Damian," Theo said at lunch after I returned from prayer. This time Zeinab had arrived first, waiting for me. I swear, Masha' Allah, my sister was becoming a very dedicated Muslim and I was so proud of her.
"Yeah, my life is so great," I said sarcastically, biting into my sandwich. This time it was salami and cheese, a classic combo I had grown up with.
"I'm glad I'm working with Florence, she's at least a decent person," Denise said through a mouthful of pizza. "We're researching gravity."
"We're doing stars," I said dryly.
"Aw, how romantic," Yaz sighed wistfully. "The stars..."
"There's nothing romantic about fiery balls of gas that float around in space," I snapped.
"Well, when you put it that way..." Yaz picked at her salad, stabbing a cherry tomato with her fork.
"It's like the stars are bringing you two together," Denise joked. "You hate him, and yet you have to work with him."
"Ooh, hate will turn to love," Theo taunted.
"Ugh, please don't think like that," I really didn't need my friends teasing me like they did with Yaz and Aidan. Did they forget that as a Muslim I wasn't supposed to date or have feelings for people like Damian? Not that I'd ever stoop to that level, God forbid. I have had trivial crushes in the past, all one sided, but I was smart enough to get over them and be realistic.
"We're just teasing, don't take it to heart," Theo pouted. "We know you're a good girl."
"But good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught!" Yaz sung much to my displeasure.
"Really, Yaz?" I arched an eyebrow at her, unimpressed.
Yaz just laughed, tossing her hair. "I'm just kidding."
"I hope so," I said in a warning tone, but I couldn't stay mad for long. Soon I was grinning and laughing with my friends, enjoying my sandwich's simplicity while moving on to a different topic.
"Aidan's birthday party is next Saturday," Yaz suddenly brought up.
"And this concerns us why?" Denise inquired. Denise couldn't care less about what those social kings and queens did in their spare time, specifically parties. It was one of the reasons we were good friends.
"I have to go, meaning one of you has to go with me," Yaz explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I'll go," Theo volunteered enthusiastically.
Yaz rolled her eyes. "I know you will, but I want either Denise or Mariam to come with me."
"Why us?" I asked. Yaz and Theo always went to the school parties, which was why they were still considered semi-cool. Me and Denise, on the other hand were perfectly fine being social rejects.
"Because you guys never go, and it's Aidan's birthday, so it's not like it's for nothing," Yaz persuaded. She wasn't as good a persuader as me, since me and Denise still didn't look convinced.
"Yaz, you know I'm not allowed to go to parties," I pointed out. It was true, since my parents were strict on that ever since Nasr went to Alex's party and ended up getting wasted. After that, Nasr was never allowed to go to a party again, meaning neither was I. Not that I wanted to go. Parties were haram. Well, to be more specific, it was what happened at high school parties that was haram. I had no problem with parties as long as it was just family or girl friends - no alcohol, just pure, innocent fun. And there would be nothing innocent about Aidan's birthday party, knowing him and the company he kept, i.e., Damian.
"Fine, then Denise has to come," Yaz looked to Denise with pleading eyes. It was hard to refuse Yaz when she used that mechanism. Denise sighed.
"Okay, I'll go with you. But only because you're my friend, and I sort of do want to go to a party at least once in my high school years."
"That's my girl!" Yaz held her hand up for a high-five, to which Denise slapped weakly.
"If Mariam won't have fun, let's at least transform Denise into a fun-machine," Theo suggested.
"Fun machine?" Denise wrinkled her nose.
"Sorry, that's all I could come up with," Theo shrugged sheepishly.
"I wonder what I should get him," Yaz pondered aloud, fork tapping against her lips. "Ooh, I know! I'll get him deodorant!"
"What? That's a horrible idea," I objected. "He'll think that you think he stinks."
"Well, I don't know what an eighteen year old boy wants," Yaz huffed.
Theo waggled his eyebrows slyly. "I think I know what you can give him."
"What?"
Even I knew where he was going with this. Theo whispered it into Yaz's ear, and her eyes widened as she slapped Theo's arm. "No way! Theo, you are such a pig!"
"Oink," Theo deadpanned, making us all crack up laughing.
"Did he say what I think he said?" Denise hissed to me. Sometimes it felt as if Denise and I were a team against Yaz and Theo, since we were so distinctly different. But it made our twisted friendship all the more interesting.
I nodded. "Yup."
"But seriously, I'm not doing that. I'm Muslim, remember?" Yaz crossed her arms, glaring at Theo.
"If you're Muslim, why aren't you covered up like Mariam?" Theo retorted.
"Not all muslim women wear hijab, Theo, how many times do I have to tell you that?" Yaz rolled her eyes.
"Okay, okay," Theo held up his hands in surrender. "I know what you can get Aidan, then."
"It better not be –"
"A watch."
I raised my eyebrows, exchanging a look with Denise. "That's actually a decent idea, Theo," I commented.
"Maybe because I'm actually a decent person, Mariam," Theo imitated my tone of surprise.
"Oh, Theo, that's perfect! I love you!" Yaz flung her arms around Theo, surprising him a little.
"Um, Yaz, you know I only like you as a friend –"
"Oh, shut up, Theodore, you know what I mean," Yaz muttered, returning to her seat.
"Maybe I don't," Theo said cheekily.
"Just when I thought you had changed for the better," Denise tutted. "You go and ruin it."
"The only thing I'll be changing is my clothes, 'cause I have sport right after this," Theo said, grabbing his sport bag which he had brought with him and standing up.
"You have sport last period? Aw, that sucks," I sympathized. I was so glad I didn't have to do sport anymore. It was a nightmare, especially in the heat of summer. The gym wasn't the coolest place to run around in a hijab and track-pants.
"Not for me. I love getting all sweaty," Theo grinned as the bell rang.
"Gross, Theo," Yaz grimaced, also getting out of her seat.
"You better not be getting into Nasr's car all sweaty this afternoon," I warned Theo as we headed out the doors.
"Can't make any promises, Mims," Theo shot me a mischievous grin before striding off to the gym.
The congestion of the centre stairwell was only made all the more unbearable by the thick atmosphere of body odour and radiating heat, and I could feel my hijab sticking to my head and beads of sweat rolling down my forehead. I guessed I wasn't the only one that would be sweaty in Nasr's car.
one
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