Mariam's POV

"Is this you?"

Yasmine pointed to the photo hanging on the wall of a little boy with messy hair, blue eyes and a cheeky gap-toothed grin, holding his muddy hands up to the camera with pride.

Damian sighed. "Yep, that's me, in my prime years."

"You sure liked getting your hands dirty," Theo commented.

"I still do," Damian replied with a cheeky smile not too far from the one on the wall.

Damian had a nice house. It was big, but homely, with plush sofas and fluffy rugs and plenty of pictures on the wall, depicting a family that seemed perfect inside the frame, but outside...not so much.

"Anyone want something to drink?" Damian asked as we all took a seat in the lounge. Theo and Denise snuggled on the loveseat while Yasmine and I shared the couch, our knees bumping the coffee table that was covered in a layer of dust and scattered with a few coasters.

"I'll have some juice. Any kind," I replied.

"Water would be great," Yasmine requested. I shot her a surprised look. "What? I'm trying to be healthy."

"Good for you, Yaz," Denise beamed over at her. "I'll also have a water."

"I could really use a coke," Theo rasped.

"Coming right up!" Damian swiftly left the room, leaving us all to take in the rest of the room. It was clear that not much cleaning was getting done now that Damian's mother was weaker than usual. But Damian's aunt did swing by most of the time to help out, as she was today, helping her sister shower while we waited.

Damian brought our drinks, giving me guava juice, which was coincidentally my favourite flavour. Once he set down the glasses, he bowed majestically and said, "Bon appetit."

"Aren't you having anything?" I asked him, noticing his lack of glass as he sat in the armchair, crossing his legs.

"Nah, I'm good," he responded, just as his Aunt Kate came in.

"Damian, can you come with me for a sec?" Aunt Kate beckoned him out of the room, leaving us once again.

"I wonder what they're talking about," Yasmine whispered.

"I hope it's nothing serious," I said. But everything was serious now. We had all freed up our Saturday to come visit Damian's mum, being the awesome friends we were, and we all knew it wasn't just a regular visit.

Damian returned, telling us that we'd have to come to his mum, since she was too tired to leave her room at the moment. We all exchanged looks as we got up, leaving our half-drunk glasses of various beverages so we could see Karen.

I wasn't surprised to see her looking thinner than last time, but it still brought a hitch in my throat as we entered. She wore a loose grey scarf around her head and still managed a smile at all of us. "Peace be upon you all."

"Peace be upon you too, Karen," I answered with a bright smile. "How are you?"

"Alhamdulillah," she replied genuinely. "I can only thank God for how I am, no matter how weak."

"Wow, you're like, my new hero," Yasmine said, and Karen chuckled, quickly turning it into a cough that she smothered with her hand.

"Karen truly is a hero," Aunt Kate remarked, and we turned to her, forgetting she was in the room too. "You kids are so kind to have come over today. It's nice to have some fresh faces around."

"It is," Karen nodded, still coughing. Damian was by her side, fixing the pillow behind her so that she could rest her head properly on it, and Karen thanked him, shutting her eyes while still talking to us. "So, tell me something interesting. How's uni for all of you?"

We talked like that for some time, until Karen yawned, and I picked up on this. "You must be tired. Would you like us to leave?" I asked politely.

"Oh, goodness, no, I like listening to your lives," Karen replied a little sleepily.

"Mum, you're allowed to have your rest," Damian told her. "Take a nap if you need to."

"But naps are boring," Karen whined, and we all laughed.

"Mum, stop acting like a kid," Damian rolled his eyes at us with the quiver of a smile on his lips.

"I can act however I want, Damian," she mumbled, her eyes closing.

"I think we should go," Theo whispered.

"Me too," Denise agreed, so we all left the room, but just as I was about to step out Karen called my name.

"Mariam, wait. Come here, honey," she patted the sheets with her hand, and I obliged, since everyone else was already out.

"I really don't want to postpone your rest any longer, Karen –"

"Hush, child, it's okay, I just wanted to speak to you alone," Karen smiled playfully, her eyes still closed and face relaxed. Suddenly, she took my hand in hers, her hand soft and warm against mine. "My son...cares about you."

For a second I thought I had misheard her, but the words still lingered in the air, loud and clear. "He...he does?"

"Yes, dear, he does. A lot. It's clear to see since he changed...because of you," Karen continued.

I chuckled modestly. "Yeah, he did, but that doesn't mean he cares about –"

"Mariam, you are such a kind-hearted young woman with so much faith and purity, and if there's anyone that would be good for Damian, it'd be you," Karen's eyes were open now, and they peered into my heart, which ached with the words she spoke.

"What are you saying exactly?" I asked tentatively, her hand still in mine.

"I'm saying that...I know there'll be a day when I won't be here in this world, and I won't be able to take care of Damian, so I would love it if you could take care of him for me when that day comes. Be by his side, and help him stay close to Islam and Allah. Don't let him forget his purpose in this life."

I felt the presence of tears in my eyes, threatening to spill, so I let them tumble down my cheeks while nodding, "Yes, yes, I will. I will take care of him for you."

Karen's eyes softened at the sight of my tears, and she used her free hand to wipe a couple away before cupping my cheek. "Don't just do it for me, Mariam. Do it for yourself."

"Myself?"

Karen smiled knowingly. "You care about my Damian, don't you?"

Did I? Yes, yes I did. I cared about Damian. I had cared about him for a while now. But I had let myself believe that it was only genuine concern that kept me drawn to him, kept me by his side all this time. There was a fine line between caring and caring. Caring enough to stay.

"I do," I uttered, realising the truth. "I really do."

Karen's smile grew. "I had a feeling you did."

My cheeks flushed as I realised what I had just admitted. "Um, yeah."

"Mum, what are you doing?" Damian stuck his head into the room, completely oblivious to the conversation Karen and I had just shared (thank God) and instead frowning at the fact that his mother was putting off her nap.

"Sorry, I'll be going now," I stood up hastily, avoiding Damian's eyes as I slinked past him in the doorway. I noticed the front door was open, and my friends were outside, lingering around my car which was parked on the driveway. I was just about to step out the front door when I heard footsteps from behind approaching me.

"What did my mum say to you?" Damian inquired, and after meeting his gaze only once, I glanced away, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

"Oh, nothing much," I mumbled, leaving it at that, since I didn't want to lie to Damian. He nodded, looking slightly suspicious, before walking me out to where my car was and all our friends.

"What took you so long?" Denise asked.

I shrugged, and the topic was soon forgotten as we all bid goodbye to Damian and piled into our separate cars, since Theo drove with Denise in his brother's car.

"I love visiting Damian's mum, even if it is really sad," Yasmine said as she rolled down the windows. The clouds were clearing, letting in rays of sunshine into a previously overcast day. But as I gripped the steering wheel, my mind was anything but clear, clouded with what Karen had told me, and what I had told her.

"Mariam, hello? Are you even listening to me? Ya Allah, you're so spaced out today," Yasmine tutted, and I glanced over at her as I pressed the gas pedal.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Nothing," Yasmine replied with a huff, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that she'd tell me any moment now, and she did, giving in. "Okay, fine, I was just asking if we should text Fatima and see if she's free so we could go shopping. That is all."

"Yeah, sure, let's do that." It had been a while since I had last seen Fatima, and I missed my beautiful Pakistani friend.

We met up at Westfield half an hour later, spending the next three hours there wandering around and buying things we probably didn't need and trying things that we probably wouldn't buy, but when you were with friends, it didn't matter what you were doing, because it always seemed fun anyway.

"So what's the situation with Damian?" Fatima asked as we slurped our smoothies on the bench outside the shopping centre, resting our poor aching legs.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"Exactly what you think I mean," Fatima waggled her eyebrows at me, and I frowned.

"We're just friends," I stated firmly.

"For now," Yasmine added, and I shot her a look. "What? It's true. Who knows what you'll be in the future?"

"Still friends," I answered.

"Is that what you really want?" Fatima inquired, leaning into me while sucking on her straw, blinking her big eyes at me.

"Um, yes?"

"Wrong!" Fatima boomed. "That's not what you want."

"And how do you know?" I asked flatly.

"Because I can see it in your eyes," Fatima replied mystically.

"Yeah, I see it too," Yasmine scrutinized me. "I also see it in Damian's eyes."

I gulped, glancing away from them and watching people cross the road. "So?"

"So? SO?! Girl, you can't just ignore these feelings," Fatima snapped her fingers. "You gotta do something about them."

"And what do you suggest I do about these supposed 'feelings'?" I quoted the air with my fingers.

"Express them?" Yasmine shrugged.

"How?"

"By...hey, what was Karen saying to you that made you stay back?" Yasmine interrogated.

"Why does everyone want to know? It could've been private!" I cried.

"That means it was private," Fatima hissed to Yasmine, and her eyes widened.

"Well, well, spill the dill. What was it?" Yasmine asked with a mischievous smile.

"Spill the dill?" I snorted with laughter.

Yasmine stared at me blankly. "Just answer the damn question, Mariam."

"Whoa, okay," I held up my hands, still chuckling at her expression. "She told me that..." Now I suddenly felt uncomfortable about saying it aloud.

"That...?" Fatima looked expectantly at me, as did Yasmine, and so I took a deep breath and thought, Screw it, I'll just say it.

"Damian cares about me, apparently."

Yasmine clapped her hands with glee while Fatima raised her hands to the sky and exclaimed, "Alhamdulillah!"

"Well, there's just one thing left for you guys to do," Fatima said while Yasmine squealed and fanned her face with excitement.

"Please don't say –"

"Get married!"

***

Damian's POV

"Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?" I sang as I vacuumed the lounge room. I wouldn't be doing this if Aunt Kate hadn't directly ordered me to, as the living room was a complete mess and she couldn't believe I had had guests over when it was in this state.

"I'm gonna marry her anyway," I kept singing, the stupid song stuck in my head, and the only way to get it unstuck was to sing it.

"Less singing and more cleaning, Damian!" Aunt Kate commanded from the hallway, and I sighed, manoeuvring the vacuum under the coffee table and hearing something get caught. I swore under my breath as I switched it off and pulled out a piece of paper from the suction end. I really hated chores.

Once I was done with all my chores, which included dusting, cleaning the bathroom and doing the dishes, I took a well-deserved break, checking my phone for any messages. Sure enough, there was one from Tracey, and as soon as I saw the message I groaned.

Have you done it yet?

I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I ran a hand through my hair as I stared at the message, the same message she had been sending me for the past five days. When will she just let it go? Sheesh.

Stop bugging me about it. It's not gonna speed up the process.

What process? Just knock on the door and say, Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?

"Not you, too." That song was going to haunt me forever, I swear.

Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is NO.

Open the door.

Wait, what? Suddenly, I heard the doorbell. Don't tell me that was Tracey.

"Ew, it's you," I wrinkled my nose when I saw her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Let me in, you big coward," Tracey brushed past me, giving me a whiff of her perfume. I took in her outfit, and whistled.

"Going out tonight, are we?" I asked.

"Yes, actually, but first I gotta set you straight," Tracey scrutinized me. "Nope, this will not do. You look like a high school dropout."

"What?" I exclaimed indignantly, but she was already bounding up the stairs, twisting to look down at me. "Aren't you coming?"

"Why?" I moaned, leaning on the banister.

"Because you need to wear something nice," Tracey replied simply. "That is, if you want to make a good impression."

"Hey, wait a minute, I'm not ready to...you know," I began to climb the stairs, stopping halfway with some distance between us.

"Yes, you are. Now stop being a chicken and follow me," Tracey continued down the hallway, leaving me with no choice but to follow.

"Don't you have anything to wear?" I watched as Tracey rifled through my closet and drawers, tossing a few clothes onto the bed and looking flustered.

"Um, yeah. That's what those things are for," I pointed to the pile of clothes on the bed.

Tracey rolled her eyes. "I mean, something decent."

I gasped dramatically, putting a hand on my heart in mock hurt. "How dare you insult my wardrobe? I happen to have a very decent sense of style, you know." I did. I was even recruited as a model for Target magazine when I was twelve, but that was only because my dad knew a guy who worked for the magazine, and wanted his son to be a part of it. Though I was pretty sure it had something to do with my great sense of style.

"Hm, this will do, I think," Tracey pulled out a pair of black slacks and a white shirt that was most likely my school uniform, and I shook my head.

"Uh, no it won't. That's my school uniform," I told her, and Tracey laughed.

"Wow, that's so sad. The only decent piece of clothing you have is your school uniform. Oh, dear." She shook with laughter, contagious enough to get a chuckle from me.

"What are you two kids up to?" Aunt Kate suddenly appeared in the doorway, scaring the both of us. I suddenly felt like a kid again, when Tracey and I would be doing something and one of our parents would come in and interrupt our fun, either because we were doing something naughty or because they were curious to know what their kids did.

"I'm trying to find something for Damian to wear so he can ask for Mariam's hand in marriage," Tracey just went and told Aunt Kate straight up, and I felt my jaw drop from how blunt she was.

"You want to get married?" Aunt Kate asked me incredulously, and I just shrugged.

"It seems like Tracey wants me to get married more than me, actually."

"But do you want to get married to this girl?" Aunt Kate interrogated, and suddenly I froze.

"Um..." Tracey had given me a week to think about it, and my week was coming to an end soon. Yet I still couldn't process it all. Though seeing her today reminded me of everything...everything we'd been though, and everything I felt.

"I'm home!" we all perked up at the sound of my dad's voice from downstairs, followed by the slam of the front door.

"That must be Darren," Aunt Kate said. "I'll go get dinner ready."

I smiled at my aunt affectionately, grateful for all she had done for us, becoming almost like a second mother to me and taking care of everything. "Thank you."

"Don't think this conversation is over, young man. We need to discuss this – as a family," Aunt Kate wiped the smile off my face, and I gulped with dread.

"Okay."

When she was gone, I turned to Tracey, who was holding up the suit I wore to Year 11 formal. "How about this one?"

"Perfect."

***

"Is this what you really want?"

I nodded at my father. "Yes, it is."

Dad chewed his food slowly, brow furrowed in thought. I glanced at Aunt Kate, who gave me a reassuring smile, and then I glanced at my mother, whose food was still the same size as it was when Aunt Kate had placed it in front of her. Mum wasn't a big eater these days, and it worried me.

"I don't know, Damian. Aren't you a little young to do this?" Dad finally said after swallowing.

"I mean, yeah, but I really...like her," I confessed. If Tracey were here she would've had a smug grin on her face, exclaiming, "I knew it!" But fortunately, she had to go on her date with Alex, who was taking her out for dinner and a live show of some underground indie band.

"And you want to marry her because you like her?" Dad asked, as if I was stupid for thinking so.

"Well, yeah. Pretty much."

"You have my blessing," Mum beamed over at me.

"Thanks, Mum," I smiled at her.

Dad still didn't look happy about this. "Have you even thought about this, Damian? Do you even know what the responsibilities of a marriage are?"

"Yeah, but do you?" I probably shouldn't have snapped back like that, since I really needed Dad on my side, but all of a sudden my old teenage self just took over, and there was not much I could do to stop him.

"Damian, if you're going to be like that, I don't think you're ready to do something as rash as get married," Dad said sternly.

"It's not rash! I've put a lot of thought into this," I cried in my defence.

"Oh, really? Then tell me, how are you going to pay for the wedding, huh? Because I certainly won't be paying for it," Dad retorted.

"Darren!" Mum scolded, but Dad shook his head.

"No, I am not for this decision, I'm sorry," Dad didn't sound sorry as he continued to eat his food while my mum, Aunt Kate and I just stared at him. "If you can't financially support your 'wife-to-be' I don't think you're in any position to get married."