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Honestly, I didn't expect Zaid to be here. In fact, he was probably one of the last people I expected to work as a volunteer.

"Mariam. Salam. Are you a volunteer here?" If Zaid was surprised, he hid it well. He just smiled at me, the sunlight pouring from the window creating a harsh contrast on his face, his eyes chestnut brown. Teresa, who had a broken leg in a massive cast, gestured to the portable table, where I placed the tray, snapping out of my shock.

"Yes, it's my first day," I replied.

"I love your scarf," Teresa commented, touching a hand to her wisps of grey hair that framed her face, tucked back in a bun. Her pale face was streaked with wrinkles, but they in no means made her hideous. She had aged beautifully, I could tell.

"Thank you," I beamed, taking a step back. I had to leave now and return the trolley, but for some reason, I was hesitant. Maybe because Zaid and Teresa were both gazing at me intently, or maybe because I wanted to stay.

"Are you a friend of Zaid's?" Teresa asked, shooting a smile at Zaid. It seemed they knew each other well, but then again, it was Zaid's job to keep her company, and judging by how much information she had been telling him when I walked in, she trusted him.

"Um, well -" before I could figure out how to answer that, Zaid butted in.

"Yes, we go way back," Zaid replied, looking away from me for the first time since I walked in and speaking to Teresa. "We met at school." To put it loosely, I added silently.

"Oh, how nice. School friends," Teresa sighed wistfully. "It's good to keep in touch. I lost contact with most of mine, they were all too busy with their own lives, you know. They all move on so quickly..."

Zaid nodded like he knew exactly what she was talking about from experience. "Yeah, they do, don't they?"

I noticed Zaid wore the same vest I had on for volunteers, and a badge that stated his position. The way they were talking, you'd think that he was her grandson or something, and not just some stranger willingly keeping her company.

"Well, I've gotta go, it's my break, so..." I stuck a thumb over my shoulder, smiling ruefully.

Teresa waved me off. "Go ahead, Mariam, was it?" I nodded. "Well, it was nice meeting you. A friend of Zaid's is a friend of mine, after all," she chuckled.

Zaid suddenly rose from his chair. "I have to go too," Zaid said apologetically. He went round to the portable table and brought it closer to Teresa's bed, lifting the lid that covered the meal. Sure enough, there was a steaming pile of white rice sided with carrots and mashed potatoes, as well as a bowl of soup. It smelled nice, but it probably didn't taste as nice. Teresa thanked him, saying, "You're a good boy, Zaid. Now go catch up with your friend. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about." She winked at him, and I wondered what she meant by that as I pushed the trolley out the door with Zaid in pursuit.

"I'll do it," Zaid took over, pushing me gently aside and wheeling the empty trolley, shooting me a grin.

"Okay, thanks," I obliged, since I was physically exhausted from standing up for so long and my arms felt stiff. I walked beside him as he manoeuvred the trolley down the hall, the wheels rumbling against the linoleum.

"When did you start volunteering here?" I asked out of curiosity. I never would've pegged him to be the doctor type - I would've seen him as more of a, oh, I don't know, lawyer or salesman or marketer. He just had that certain quality that made you want to trust his word.

"Since last year," Zaid replied. "My mum's a nurse here so she sort of forced me to do it, and I've sort of come to like it."

"That's sort of cool," I imitated his repetitive use of 'sort of' and he laughed.

"How about you? It's your first day, but what got you into it?" We rounded a corner, and I let out a stream of air from my lips.

"My dad, I guess. Also, I sort of want to be a doctor when I grow up," I answered.

"Sort of?" Zaid shot me an amused smirk.

"Okay, I totally want to be a doctor. And, you know, help people," I elaborated.

"So you like helping people," Zaid concluded. "Well, that's funny, cause so do I. Maybe we can help each other help people."

"That's a lot of help," I laughed.

"That's why I'm gonna need your help to help me," Zaid said humorously.

"Okay, Mr Helpful," I said airily as we entered the kitchen. I thanked him for pushing the trolley for me, even if he insisted it wasn't that big of a deal.

"You can take break now, both of you," Louisa told us as soon as she entered. The other cooks were cleaning up the place, wiping the benches spotless. It was extremely hot in here, and I could see a layer of sweat on Louisa's forehead, which she wiped away with a towel, exhaling.

"It is very tiring work, in the kitchen," she said breathlessly. "You two enjoy your break. You have fifteen minutes."

Zaid saluted her. "Will do, Louisa."

As we stepped out into the hallway, I realized I was alone. With a boy. I was trying to figure out whether I was committing a sin or not when Zaid beckoned me to follow. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

I realized I was starving, so I obeyed, keeping a respectable distance from him as we walked in sync down the hall, taking the elevator down to the food court. There were other people in the elevator with us so it wasn't awkward, but once we stepped out, Zaid turned to me.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked.

"Food would be ideal," I replied a little sarcastically, because I couldn't help myself.

Zaid rolled his eyes, smiling. He didn't have dimples like Damian, but he had really white teeth that put mine to shame. "In that case, I know the perfect place."

He led me to Zouki's, and I ordered a slice of cheese and spinach quiche while he got a turkey sandwich.

"Is that even halal?" I asked him as soon as we sat down at a table outside. The sky was still a pale blue, the sun gradually sinking in the sky. I wished I had brought my sunglasses as I squinted at Zaid, prodding my plastic fork into the soft quiche.

Zaid shrugged. "Whatever," he said before biting into his sandwich, the lettuce crunching, while I tasted my quiche, was way too hot, but it was good.

'Whatever' wasn't the answer I had been expecting, but I was starting to realize to expect the unexpected, because I certainly didn't expect to be sitting at a table outside eating with Zaid.

"This is actually pretty good," I mumbled, dabbing my lips with a napkin.

Zaid swiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, chewing silently. "M-hm," he hummed, and I raised my eyebrows slightly. Unlike Theo and Nasr and many other boys, he wasn't speaking with his mouth full. I had to give him credit for being respectable, at least.

I focused on eating, because that was the main reason we were here. It wasn't like we could talk because whenever I swallowed, Zaid took another bite. I watched the pigeons flock about the lawn, pecking at the ground, a couple of them attempting to snag a wife with the pigeon proposal dance I found so entertaining, but sadly, they all got rejected.

"It's sad, isn't it?" Zaid's comment took me by surprise, as I had almost forgotten he was sitting across from me, and my quiche was only half eaten.

"What is?" I had a feeling I knew what he was about to say.

"I've never seen a single pigeon's proposal get accepted," Zaid said as if it were a news headline about a car crash. "They get rejected every single damn time."

"Maybe because we humans are watching them, and they get embarrassed," I offered with a shrug.

Zaid laughed. "I doubt pigeons get embarrassed in front of us. I mean, have you seen them clean their feathers? They have no shame!"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Are you some sort of pigeon watcher, Zaid?"

Zaid shrugged, "I guess so. But I seem to always catch them at their worst moments."

"That's nature for you," I said, popping a piece of quiche in my mouth, savouring the cheesy taste that melted in my mouth. "It's raw."

Zaid wrinkled his nose, and so did I as we both realized what I just said. "You know I'm eating turkey, right?" Zaid pointed to the remainder of his sandwich, which was bits of salad and a thin slice of turkey.

I stifled a laugh, covering my mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

Zaid chuckled. "I know, but it's still funny."

Our laughter died down, and I brushed off my fingertips over my plate with my napkin, feeling content. That quiche sure did fill me up. I stole a glance at Zaid, who continued to watch the birds, the sun lighting the top of his black hair in shades of red and gold. He certainly grew up a lot in the years we hadn't seen each other, though to be frank, I had completely forgotten about him. He was just one of those people you encountered once in your life, a school mate and nothing more, and once they moved away, their name faded in your memory. But though the memory of him had faded for me, his name hadn't. I found it hard to forget names above all else. I had a bunch of names floating around in my head, and it was like an uncompleted game of mix and match - nameless faces and faceless names.

"What are you thinking about?" his question caught me off guard, and I glanced at my phone, which I had stashed into the pocket of my black pants but had kept beside me as we ate, the time being almost seven.

"The past," I blurted.

Zaid nodded, his eyebrows slightly pinched. "Yeah, me too."

"Do you remember when Elias farted that one time during a test, and Ms Najaat yelled at him?" I didn't know why I suddenly remembered that memory, but as I looked at Zaid (in a non-haram way) everything from Quran school flooded back. Quran School had been a very beneficial experience for me, particularly because it taught me so much about my religion that I never would've known otherwise.

"Yes, that was hilarious!" Zaid boomed. "How about that time Fatima aimed her paper at the bin, but ended up hitting Sharif, who was the biggest kid in the class? The look on her face when he turned around was classic!"

I clutched my stomach in laughter, remembering that oh so clearly. Sharif looked pissed off, while Fatima looked like she was about to piss her pants from fright. It had been an innocent accident but Sharif had told the teacher on her and Fatima ended up getting a strike next to her name on the board for "attacking other students."

"I'll never forget when you fell of your chair, though," I said, wiping a tear from my eye. I sometimes cried when I laughed. I had watery eyes, which was mainly why I stayed away from mascara.

"It was mainly your fault, though, you practically pushed me!" Zaid accused, though the spark of humour was alive in his brown eyes.

"Hey, I wasn't pushing you, I was trying to get you to sit properly. You were always swinging on your chair, and you know Ms Najaat would've given you a strike," I said in my defence.

"Well, she ended up doing that anyway, remember?" Zaid chuckled. "She was so strict, that lady."

"I liked her," I recalled. "She was nice."

"You were her favourite student, that's why," Zaid teased. "You were such a teacher's pet, Mariam."

"Maybe because I actually did the homework, Zaid," I said, slipping my phone into my pocket. We had to go now, but suddenly Zaid let out a loud belch.

"Alhamdulillah," he rubbed his stomach, while I made a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?"

"Hey, better out than in, right?"

"Right," I snorted.

We stood up simultaneously, the light bubbly feeling of laughter in the pit of my stomach. I actually enjoyed Zaid's company, and it reminded me of the good old days. I had forgotten how much fun Quran School had been, even if Ms Najaat could be strict sometimes. We had a mixed class of kids I practically grew up with, starting from seven years old to fifteen. Eight years of development, but Zaid had only been there for five of them.

On our way in, we bumped into Sharon, who clutched a cup of coffee and a slice of cheesecake, a bright smile as always as she greeted us both, knowing Zaid's name as well. "Are you guys just coming from your break?" she asked.

Zaid nodded. "Yeah. But I was wondering, since Mariam has finished with the meals, and dinner is over, if she could help me with cleaning up the kids' room on floor nine?"

"Absolutely. In fact, I was just going to assign you two there. The kids sure did leave a mess," Sharon laughed. "Now hurry along, and thanks for all your help here. You guys are legends, especially as you're not even getting paid for it!"

"The reward is all in here," Zaid patted his heart, and Sharon cooed, "Aw, well isn't that sweet? Well, off you go! I'll see you two later at the reception when you sign off."

Sharon was right, the kids sure did leave a mess. In fact, it looked like the toy factory had blown up in this brightly painted room, and there were dolls and Lego blocks everywhere. I sighed.

"This is going to take forever."

"I wouldn't mind spending forever with you," Zaid winked, and I repressed a groan from that incredibly cheesy remark.

"No, thanks," I muttered, picking up a teddy bear and studying it for a second. It reminded me of a teddy bear I once had named Pasadena, as white as snow, however the nostalgia had to wait because we had a toy room to clean.

"I bet you can't get that bear into that toy box from here," Zaid challenged me, pointing to a toy box positioned right on the other side of the room.

I arched an eyebrows at him. "I bet I can," with those words I flung the bear through the air, though it landed a few feet away from the toy box, completely missing the target.

"Ha, I can do better," Zaid shot an Elmo doll from where he stood a couple metres away from me, and it landed in the toy box cleanly.

"Show off," I muttered, attempting again with a cabbage patch doll. Wow, this hospital had some pretty old toys, I thought as I lobbed it at the toy box, this time succeeding. I clapped my hands and whooped for joy. "Oh, yeah!"

Zaid smirked at me. "Now who's the show off?"

So that triggered a competition to see who could get the most toys in the toy box, and even though Zaid won, we managed to clear half the toy room in a matter of ten minutes.

"Now all we gotta do is get rid of these Lego pieces," Zaid pointed at the colourful plastic cubes of death. I had many bad experiences with them as a child, stepping on them bare foot accidentally when Nasr left them lying about. I shuddered over that traumatic memory and bent down, collecting the pieces.

"Let's see who can get the most," Zaid was feeling extra competitive today, but unluckily for him, so was I.

"You're on." It took us another ten minutes to get them all back in the Lego tub, and a few of the smaller pieces clung to my palms, leaving circular marks in my skin.

I noticed Zaid connecting a bunch of them, creating -

"A car," I realized, and Zaid held it up with pride.

"Not bad, huh?"

"Well, considering one of the wheels is green and the other blue, yeah, not bad for an amateur," I replied.

"Amateur? I am a Lego building champion," Zaid claimed.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Zaid."

"No, seriously," Zaid insisted. He pointed to the tub, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "How about I prove it? And then we'll see who the real amateur is."

"Just letting you know that I grew up with Lego thanks to my brother, and I can get pretty creative with it," I said as I grabbed a few pieces, accepting his challenge. I felt like a little kid surrounded by all these toys, and now I was about to build something out of Lego. The irony of it all was that we were in a hospital, and I aspired to be a doctor, however here I was doing the most childish and simplest activity.

"My brother Ismail loves Lego, so I help him out sometimes," Zaid said as we built our individual pieces. I scanned the playroom - we could finally see the carpet, which was a map of roads and green pastures, and we had made a lot of progress. Surely we were allowed to have a little leisure time while we were here, right?

"Honestly, it's been a while since I've done this," I admitted as I connected two blocks together, attempting to build a mini cottage with white brick and a red roof.

"Honestly, I was playing with Lego just yesterday," Zaid's confession made me laugh.

"At your age?"

Zaid shrugged. "You're never too old to play with Lego."

That reminded me of one of his first statements to me about never being too old to go to Quran School. Should I go back to Quran School? I had lots more to learn about the Quran, and it couldn't hurt to study Islam more in depth. Plus, it would help with Mission CTBB, which had completely slipped my mind this afternoon. Being with Zaid made me forget about school and all these other worries.

"Finished," Zaid held up his creation - astaghfurullah, I shouldn't say that, but I couldn't think of any other word to describe what he'd just built, which appeared to be a -

"Giraffe? That's like the most basic thing you could make," I remarked with a chuckle.

"And a house isn't?" Zaid cocked an eyebrow, and I looked down at my block of white coated in red. It just looked like a cake covered in red icing...was I still hungry?

"What time is it?" I pulled out my phone, surprised to see it was 7:42PM.

"My shift ends at eight," I muttered, popping it back in my pocket.

"A.M.?" Zaid joked.

My eyes widened. "God no, that'd be horrible."

"Well, mine ends at eight as well," Zaid said, packing his giraffe into the tub. I crumbled up my house that made me hungry just by looking at it (I know, I'm strange) and did the same, carrying it to the shelf and snapping the lid on.

"What else do volunteers do?" I asked, swinging my arms back and forth, rolling my shoulders back. I had been hunched over on the floor for a while. As a little girl who played with dolls, my mum would tell me off and say I'd end up with a hunchback if I didn't sit properly, but of course I didn't listen, and I didn't get a hunch anyway.

"Let's stay here until the break, I really can't be bothered going down and asking Sharon what we should do," Zaid said, heading over to the foosball table. At the sight of it, my eyes lit up.

"I love foosball!" I began to fiddle with the knobs, causing the soccer players to flip around.

We ended up playing it for a solid twenty minutes, until we got caught by a passing nurse, who peeped in to check what all the noise was about. Zaid was a very loud celebrator when he won.

"Are you guys done here?" the nurse asked, frowning slightly. We both cleared our throats awkwardly, nodding and trying to look respectable.

"Uh, yes, we were just testing the foosball to make sure it...worked," Zaid replied gravely.

The nurse nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced. "Well, Sharon paged me to tell you guys to come down and sign off, since your shift has ended as volunteers."

"Okay, we'll be right down," I forced a smile at her and she left, her footsteps reverberating down the corridor.

"I won," Zaid gloated in a sing-song voice as we exited the playroom.

I scoffed. "Only because I'm tired."

"Sure, Mariam," Zaid said cheekily. "But it's clear I'm the real winner here."