breath through his nose, remembering. The baby in the stroller began to cry. His eyes flew back open.
Stop being so stupid, he scolded himself, tossing the gum back down. Forget about her! There’ll be other girls.
The traffic roared again and his head swung towards the door. His hopeful heart rose in his chest, but fell back down when an old, balding grandfather hobbled into the store.
He sighed again.
The problem was, he didn’t want another girl.
Chapter 14
Can you guess what the first thing I did when we got back from Tiberias was?
Unpack my suitcase?
Nope.
Take a long shower?
Uh-uh.
Call Marla?
Wrong again.
Run down the street to buy a pack of gum from Nasir?
Exactly!
Okay, I admit I was a little bit obsessed. But it’s not like I’m some kind of crazy stalker or anything — I just needed to see him.
So imagine how my teenage heart soared with joy when he looked happy to see me, too. Happy, and quite a bit relieved.
More than anything, I wanted to run over and tell him where I’d been and apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. But I had to stop myself — I knew he wouldn’t talk to me while there were other people in the store. I glanced around; there were two other customers cruising up and down the well-packed aisles. Parking myself next to the potato chips, I gave them all the hairy eyeball and silently willed them to get out.
Five minutes later I got my wish. I hurried up to the counter before anybody else walked in.
“Muck-and-zee! Where have you been?” Nasir asked, flashing me that great white smile.
“I went on a trip with my dad to Tiberias — an archaeological dig, actually.”
“Oh, really?” he replied, his smile fading a little. “Did you find anything?”
“Yeah, a few pottery shards, a bunch of coins, and some old bones. It was cool.”
“Cool,” he echoed. Those eyes of his were practically glued to my face. I’d almost forgotten how intense he could be. Suddenly, I felt a little bit warm.
“Well … uh, anyway … I’m back now,” I managed to squeak.
“I’m glad. This whole time I was worried you were buying your gum somewhere else.”
“No way, I wouldn’t do that,” I mumbled shyly. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on my lip. I prayed he wouldn’t notice.
“Listen, I shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, leaning a little closer.
I turned and looked over my shoulder; there was nobody else in the store.
“Doing what?” I whispered back. “And why are you whispering?”
“I want to talk to you. Do you want to meet me after work? I get off early tonight.”
I was suddenly so hot, my clothes felt like they were melting.
“Oh, um … sure!” I said quickly, before he could change his mind.
“Great. But don’t come here — meet me at Emek Refaim at eight-thirty. I’ll be waiting in front of the Aroma coffee shop.”
“Okay.”
Behind me, I heard the door open and a new customer walk in. Nasir reacted with a startled jump and then immediately turned away and began fiddling with the cash register. I hurried out of the store, not daring to say goodbye. I spent the entire walk home wondering how on earth I was going to get Dad to agree to this.
It wasn’t until I got to the apartment that I noticed I’d completely forgotten to buy any gum.
Chapter 15
Nasir pulled his last clean shirt down over his head then ran a hand through his tousled hair. He’d been saving the shirt for work tomorrow, but now tonight’s date was way more important.
A date! he thought. I’m going on my first date!
His stomach churned with nerves as he thought about the night ahead. He’d never done anything like this before. Would he hold her hand? Would he touch her cheek again? Would they kiss?
Nasir grabbed on to the edge of the sink to steady himself. He’d never kissed a girl before and his stomach felt like it was being turned inside-out just thinking about it. Maybe he and Mackenzie would just talk instead. But what would they talk about? Would they have enough to talk about? She might not know about soccer, he thought. What sport do they play in Canada? Isn’t it ice hockey?
With shaking hands, he dabbed on a small splash of cologne from a bottle he’d borrowed from the store. After making sure the lid was screwed back on tight, he glanced around the tiny bathroom for a place to hide it. After a minute, he lifted the top of the toilet tank and carefully deposited the bottle inside. Nasir knew it wasn’t the best place for cologne, but with no room of his own, he didn’t have much choice. With one last careful look in the mirror, he hurried out of the bathroom. He was worried if he spent too much time getting ready his parents might become suspicious.
Dinner was over. Amar and Sameera were in bed and Rana had just fallen asleep in the rhythmic rocking of Mama’s arms. Baba was sitting on the couch, crunching watermelon seeds and watching his favourite Lebanese news program. Nasir knew this was his chance to leave without attracting too many questions.
“I’m going to meet some friends — won’t be out too late,” he said. Avoiding the usual kiss, Nasir made a hasty exit out the door in the hopes his parents wouldn’t detect the scent of his cologne. He felt a pang of guilt as he made his way down the stairs — but it wasn’t enough to make him change his mind. There was no way he could tell his parents the truth about what he was doing. Sneaking out to meet a girl was bad enough … but the fact that she was a Western girl made it all that much worse. Mama and Baba would never, ever approve.
This wasn’t the first time Nasir had ever lied to them. He loved his parents very much and he wanted them to think that he honoured the Islamic ethical code of being a truthful and honest person, but he didn’t want to live the life they were planning for him. He didn’t want to carry on praying five times a day, every day, for the rest of his life. And he definitely didn’t want to be forced to marry a Muslim girl that he didn’t know and didn’t love. He didn’t even want to stay in the Middle East. His friends at school were full of idealism for the Palestinian future. But Nasir was more of a realist than them. He wanted to live in a place where there was a promise of a better tomorrow. He want his son to grow up with a room of his own, not a lumpy couch for a bed. He wanted him to hold a soccer ball in his hand, not a shovel. He wanted to follow
