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Damian's POV

Exams.

It was enough to put any year twelve in a fit of anxiety, and with each day, with each new load of homework and tests, we were reminded of it. In the end, that was what it all added up to. That was all that mattered. And if I wanted to do well, I had no choice but to become a nerd. At least for the last few months, anyway. Then I could go back to being cool.

Aidan and I were cool. At least, I thought we were. We had worked out our differences, but then our differences became the only thing between us, creating a rift. That was when I decided maybe Aidan and I weren't meant to be, so other than the occasional head nod and small talk, we both realized that some friendships weren't meant to last. It was high school, and soon we'd be out of here, and we'd be doing what we wanted, being who we wanted, and moving on.

I had grown as a person during this year. And sometimes that also meant growing out of people, as Mum told me when I told her about me and Aidan.

"You are at a point in your life where you're working out who you are," Mum said as she was chopping some capsicum. She was better enough to cook, and she insisted on cooking me at least one good meal a week. Since Dad had gone back to his job, Mum had been taking charge of the house again, without straining herself too much, and I couldn't thank Allah enough for giving her more time on this Earth, because time was precious, and every moment spent with my mum was cherished.

"I thought I passed that point?" I said, grabbing a potato and a knife, offering my help by peeling the skin off. It was one of the few skills I was able to do with a knife and a vegetable.

"No, honey, figuring out who you are isn't a one-off thing," Mum replied. "And you're going to find yourself changing a lot in the next ten years. And that includes the friends you make, and keep."

I popped the potato into the sink and began on the next one, mulling over Mum's words. I wondered which friends I would keep in ten years. I hoped I could keep them all - they were all such awesome people.

"You and Aidan are different, and that's completely fine," Mum went on. I drank in her words, thinking about how everything she said was important, so I had better listen. "In fact, it's expected. Your paths have crossed, and now they are separating. And you may be sad, but it's for the best sometimes."

"I'm not sad," I scoffed, until I realized I was. In a way. But I had to remind myself that I had nothing to be sad about. Allah had a better plan for me, as Mariam kept reminding me. And leaving it in His hands made things much more bearable.

"It's okay to be sad, Damian, but just remember it'll be alright in the end," Mum preached.

"In Sha Allah," I murmured. Those words always seem to give me hope, because it was as if just saying it would make things better in the future.

"Now what I want you to do is focus on your school, okay? Don't worry about friends and all that drama. When I was your age I made the mistake of worrying more about that than my studies, and I want you to have the best future you can possibly have," Mum told me ardently, moving on to the onion and slicing it expertly. "Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, Mum," I sighed. "I promise." And this time, I was going to keep my promise.

***

Mariam's POV

Clouds scudded the serene blue skies. The cool wind caressed my cheeks. My lips curved into a smile as I closed my eyes, the warm sun on my face. I could smell the buds of spring permeating the clear air, and birds chortling in the tree tops. It was almost like Jannah, until I heard a voice.

"Mariam, ya Allah, Shou a'm ta'mali? (What are you doing?) Stop wasting time and go study!"

I groaned, blinking my eyes open and sitting up on the grass to face Immi, who had her head poked out the back door, scolding me to get back inside.

"Immi, I was just taking a break, sheesh," I muttered as I sat up, tightening my ponytail. i didn't wear hijab in the backyard because we had such a high fence and it was one of the only places I could get some proper vitamin D exposure.

"There are no breaks in VCE!" Immi barked, before shutting the door. I picked up my book for English which I was annotating so I could find some good quotes to use in my essay, and I had only shut my eyes for two seconds when Immi had to catch me in that exact moment. She was very strict with my use of time for studying, since she wanted me to do my best, which was understandable, but she seemed more stressed than I was!

"It's such a beautiful day," Zeinab declared passionately, and I groaned once again.

"Now I have to go inside," I grumbled.

"Why?" Zeinab skipped into the garden, twirling around like the silly girl she was. I couldn't help cracking a smile at her cuteness, though, but I quickly changed it into a scowl as I stood up with my book and said, "Because you're here."

"Good, get out of here, I don't need you," Zeinab waved me away, and I stuck my tongue out at her as I approached the back door. She shot me a smile before doing a cartwheel, and I watched her with a pang of nostalgia. Year Ten seemed so much easier and carefree than Year Twelve, and I wished I could go back in time, but I had to remember to focus.

"I'm drowning," Fatima moaned on the telephone later that night. I had finished my homework - for now - so a quick chat with my sister from another mister couldn't hurt could it?

"Need a life jacket?" I offered.

"I wish it were that simple, Mims," Fatima complained. "The work is just too much! I can't take it anymore!"

"Coming from you, that must be bad," I mused.

"Why do you sound so happy? Aren't you supposed to be drowning too?"

I laughed. "I'm a good swimmer, Fatima," I replied humourously. "Besides, if you have a lot of homework, shouldn't you be doing it instead of talking to me?"

The silence I received meant she had just realized I was right. "Oh. Yeah. I should do that..."

"You should," I agreed in amusement.

"I guess this is goodbye?" Fatima sounded so unsure.

"No, this is Ma'a salama," I hung up the call and set my phone on the desk, massaging my temples. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a text, and I picked it up again, expecting it to be Yaz or Denise, but it was Damian.

Help. Physics has me hostage.

I chuckled, typing a reply. Sorry, bud. You're on your own.

Five seconds later, he texted back with, Meanie.

Aw, you're too kind.

"Get off your phone, Mariam, and study!" Immi's voice scared me, and before I could reply she had already moved on to Zeinab's room, and I could hear her arguing with Zeinab about something. Immi had always pushed me and Nasr to do well in school but with Zeinab, it was harder to get her motivated. Zeinab wasn't the best in her class, but she wasn't the worse either. I guess you could say she was average, but I knew she had potential to do better. We all did.

"Mariam, check this out," I had just exited the bathroom when Nasr stuck his phone in my face, and I had to blink for a couple seconds in order to focus on the image he was showing me.

"Is that...Huda?" I took the phone out of his hands and inspected the photo myself. It was off Nasr's Facebook app, and it was indeed a picture of Huda wearing a tight black dress and heavy makeup, pursing her lips at the camera and showing off more than she should.

"Yup, it's her," Nasr took back my phone and slid his thumb over the screen before handing it back to me. "And look at this."

I almost dropped the phone in shock. It was another picture of Huda, but she had her arm draped around a guy. And not just any guy.

"Zaid? What the fudge is he doing with her?" I asked incredulously.

Nasr shrugged. "It looks like they were at a party, according to all the other Facebook pics," he then proceeded to show me other pics of Huda and Zaid at the same party with a bunch of other people I didn't recognize.

"Do they know each other?" I questioned.

"Apparently," Nasr answered. "But what surprises me the most is that Zaid went to this party. I thought he didn't do parties."

"So did I," I said softly. "I thought I knew him, but I guess I don't know him at all."

"I'll have a chat to him about it," Nasr proposed firmly. "He's like a brother to me, but now...I don't know what to call him."

"How about Huda?"

Nasr laughed. "I'm not surprised Huda went to a party and dressed up like that. She's crazy!"

"Damn right she is," I agreed. "But...Zaid? Really?"

"When Huda wants something, she'll get it, no matter what," Nasr said. "She wants Zaid, so she'll get him. And she's good at charming boys. It's her talent."

I cringed, remembering what had happened at Eid a couple months ago. It was clear that Damian had captured her interest, and the only reason she had asked that dreadful question in the truth or dare game was for herself, but then, Damian had chosen me. Out of all my beautiful girl cousins, he had said that I was the 'prettiest.' I still couldn't believe it. And he had said he wasn't lying...

"Why are you blushing?" Nasr pinched my cheek, smirking at me, and I batted him away.

"I'm not blushing!" I snapped, marching to the kitchen to grab a snack. Nasr followed me.

"Were you thinking about...?"

I whirled around on him and shot him a glare. "Don't you dare say it, Nasr."

Nasr held his hands up, a mischievous grin twisting his lips. "Hey, I wasn't going to say anything! But if you insist -"

"I don't want to hear it," I raised a hand to shut him up and grabbed the Nutella jar and a spoon. It was time for some ultimate emotional therapy.

"Are you depressed or something?" Nasr smirked as I scooped up a large gloop of the hazelnut spread and sucked on the spoon contemplatively.

"No, I'm just hungry," I replied sulkily, shovelling in another spoonful.

"Good thing I don't eat Nutella," Nasr wrinkled his nose. "Because that was seriously gross."

"Good thing I don't care," I replied, poking out my brown tongue at him and leaning on the kitchen bench.

"So how about this - I'll talk to Zaid, and you talk to Huda," Nasr suggested.

"Why should we bother talking to them? They won't listen to us. They probably don't even care that they're openly sinning," I said, scraping the sides of the jar.

"Hey, what happened to the girl who made Damian convert to Islam and Yaz start wearing the hijab?" Nasr flicked my nose, and I scowled at him.

"That girl no longer exists," I retorted, licking the spoon. "What people do isn't my problem. And if Huda and Zaid want to go to parties and date, who's stopping them?"

Nasr regarded me seriously, and after a couple of seconds, he tugged the Nutella jar and spoon from my grip and held it away from my reach, saying, "You are not getting another taste of this Nutella until you help me help our cousin and friend."

I continued to reach over the bench and attempt to grasp my true love, but Nasr being the tall annoying idiot he was, kept us apart. "Nasr. Nutella. Now," I growled, fixing him with my scariest stare.

Nasr just looked amused. "Mariam. Nutella. No," he mimicked, and then he had the nerve to tease me by using my spoon and dipping it into my baby and then eating its contents in front of me!

"I thought you said you didn't eat Nutella?" I crossed my arms.

"I lied," Nasr grinned with brown teeth.

"Lying is haram," I stated.

"So is what Huda and Zaid are doing," Nasr shot back, and I sighed, giving in.

"Okay, fine, we'll talk to them," I relented.

"Good girl," Nasr handed me back the Nutella jar, and I giggled with glee as I was reunited with my true love.

"You and me for life, babe," I whispered to the Nutella jar.

"I don't ship it," Nasr said, and I glared at him. "But do you know what I do ship?"

"What?"

"You and Damian," Nasr sung, and that was how I discovered that Nutella jars could fly.

***

"I'm afraid I will have to resign my volunteering position for now," I told Sharon apologetically.

"VCE?" Sharon smiled understandingly.

I nodded. "I think the more time I have, the better, so as much as I enjoyed my experience here, I'd like to quit. For now."

"I completely understand, Mariam, and I wish you good luck on your studies and exams," Sharon said, and I beamed.

"Thank you. Hopefully someday I will work here again," I told her, adding in my head the obligatory, In Sha Allah.

"Hopefully! You've been such a great help at this hospital, I don't know what we'll do without you!" Sharon grinned ruefully.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," I chuckled. "Anyway, I better be off now."

"Aw, come here," Sharon pulled me into a swift hug, patting my back. "Best of luck on your exams, I just know you'll ace them!"

"You are too kind, Sharon," I laughed, stepping away from her. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Sharon waved, and I spun on my heel, walking out of that level for the last time. Goodbye actually meant 'God be with you' in Old English, which was almost like 'Ma'a Salama' except it didn't hold the same effect.

The elevator was empty when I stepped in, which was surprising, since it was almost always occupied, and I tapped my foot, watching the numbers decrease, until it stopped at level 2, meaning someone was getting on.

The doors opened, revealing an old nurse I had seen around the hospital while working here with a permanent frown on her face, and a man with a walking stick. I stepped back to let them in, and just as the doors were about to close, someone shouted, "Wait!"

I pressed the button to hold the doors and in stepped in none other than...Zaid.

"Thank you," Zaid puffed as the doors finally closed, and the lift lurched. He locked eyes with me, seeming a little surprised. "Mariam."

"Zaid," I said curtly. Nasr still hadn't spoken to Zaid about the party and what he had done, since we hadn't seen him at the mosque lately, and since he attended a different school, there was no reason to see him anywhere, except here.

"How are you?" Zaid asked, and I shrugged.

"Swamped with schoolwork, I guess," I replied.

Zaid seemed to sense my indifference to him, and he frowned. "What's up? Why are you acting so..."

"I'm not acting like anything," I cut him off.

The doors opened to the ground level, and I let everyone else step off first before doing the same, and Zaid followed. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong," I forced a smile and pulled out my phone, texting Nasr a plea for help.

"Then why are you acting weird?" Zaid pressed.

I rolled my eyes. "Wow, how nice of you, calling a girl weird. You must get all the ladies," I said sarcastically.

Zaid looked even more confused. "What are you talking about?"

I held up my phone to his face, showing the same picture Nasr had showed me of Zaid and Huda, and Zaid's eyes widened. "Where'd you get that?"

"Huda's Facebook account, of course," I replied lightly just as Nasr texted, I'm coming. Wait up.

Zaid groaned, covering his face with a hand. "Shit," he muttered.

"Indeed," I quipped. "Perhaps you could explain what you were doing at that party in the first place? Not that I care, but Huda is my cousin, and you..." I didn't finish my sentence, mainly because I didn't know how to.

"I didn't think that bi - Huda would post those pictures," Zaid gritted his teeth.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Wow, how naïve of you."

Zaid shot me a look. "Don't patronise me, I know I shouldn't have gone to that party, but all my mates were going, and -"

"You gave in to peer pressure?" I scoffed. "I was expecting a better excuse, but like you said, maybe it's better not to expect anything."

"Hey, why would you care what I do, anyway? It's not like it's your business," Zaid snapped, and I raised my eyebrows. Zaid never showed bitterness towards me, but I guess there was a first time for everything.

"Oh, it is most certainly my business, Zaid, because you were with my cousin, and she's family, whereas you are not," I retorted.

"What, are you jealous?" Zaid spat, and I choked on air, before turning it into a scoff.

"Jealous? You don't know me at all, Zaid. Why would I be jealous? Because you and Huda were hooking up at a party and doing God knows what? Yeah, I am so jealous," I laughed mirthlessly.

Zaid scowled. "We didn't hook up, okay? Yeah, we took a few selfies, but that's it. And we didn't drink anything. It was all just for fun."

"Try telling that to your parents," I smirked.

Zaid sighed noisily, running a hand through his thick black hair. "What do I have to do to stop you from telling my parents? What do you want, Mariam? I'll give you anything, just - don't say a word to my parents."

"So you're going to lie to their faces?" I tutted. "You are such a great role model to Ismail, aren't you?"

Zaid flashed with anger. "Don't bring Ismail into this! What I did may not have been completely right, but I'm not going to do it again. Wallah, I won't."

"Well, since you said wallah...you better not," I said sternly, pointing my phone at him. "Now if you'll excuse me, my brother is picking me up, so..."

"Does Nasr know about it?" Zaid asked, sounding genuinely guilty for the first time today.

"He's the one that told me," I replied with a smug smile.

I heard Zaid mutter a swear word as I approached the exit. Sure enough, Nasr was parked on the side of the road, waiting for me, and I slid into the passenger seat, feeling pretty proud of myself.

"Zaid's all taken care of, bro," I reported like I was an assassin.

"You killed him?" Nasr smirked.

I laughed as he merged with the traffic. "No, but that's not a bad idea either."

Now it was Nasr's turn to laugh. "Yep, you are definitely my sister."

"Don't be so sure, I could be an impostor," I joked.

Nasr touched my face with a hand while still looking at the road, and confirmed with, "Nope, it's you. Unfortunately."

If we weren't on the road I would've hurt him in some way or another, but I decided to just lean back on the seat and relax. "One down, one to go," I breathed.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna make me talk to Huda?" Nasr sighed.

"No, I would never put you through that torture," I gasped dramatically, then considered it. "On second thoughts..."

"You talk to her, you're both girls, so she'll understand you better," Nasr suggested.

"Yeah, because we speak the same language," I chuckled.

"Jibberish?" Nasr joked.

"Exactly."

***

Maybe I was speaking Jibberish, because Huda still didn't get it when I told her she shouldn't go to parties and touch non-mahram boys.

"It's not like I'm kissing them," Huda rolled her eyes.

"That's not the point, Huda. You should preserve yourself," I said. We were sitting on my bed, along with Zeinab, who was playing Temple Run 2 on her phone, hardly tuning in on our convo.