I whip off the sunglasses only to notice my eyes. I decide questions about me borrowing her sunglasses are easier to take than questions re my eyes, so I put them back on.
“And where are you going?” Mom asks after salaams. She has groceries in her hands. I grab two bags and head to the kitchen.
“Sain—Sarah Mahmoud’s. For Quiz Bowl practice. Muhammad’s taking me,” I say. “I think there’ll be pizza, so we won’t need dinner.”
She follows me to the door, so I turn and kiss salaams on her cheeks, to disarm her from further questions. I can almost feel the querying powers gathering in her forehead. Why do you need to wear my sunglasses to Quiz Bowl practice? In a cocooned hijab? I open the door quickly, turn to blow another kiss, head out, and run right into Jeremy’s chest.
I step back. Tats is at his side.
Pulling on the door handle behind me, I swiftly move into the peephole’s line of vision, in case Mom decides to check up on things.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask. This is my first opportunity to talk to him, and this is what I think up?
I look at Tats and tilt my head to the right, where the bulkhead juts out. Our apartment doors are recessed, so I’m hoping they’ll move along into the area of the hallway inaccessible from Mom’s peeping, should she decide to take the paranoid-parent route.
Tats, being my friend of many years, gets my drift and begins walking. I let out a suspended breath and follow them.
The door opens behind us.
“Janna?” Mom says, stepping into the hallway and seeing the three of us. “You forgot your seerah book.”
She holds it out, and I swiftly close the gap to get it, even though I have no need for it. “Thanks, Mom,” I say.
“Hi, Tatyana,” Mom says, forehead animated with curiosity. “You’re going to the meeting too?”
“No, Ms. Yusuf, I just came to see if Janna wanted to go by the lake,” says Tats. “I didn’t know she had to go to the mosque.”
“Oh,” Mom says, appraising Jeremy. “And you are?”
“Jeremy,” Jeremy says. “I go to school with Janna.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard him say my name. If it weren’t in front of Mom, I would have taken a moment to savor the experience.
“Nice to meet you, Jeremy,” Mom says. “I’m Janna’s mom.”
“Yeah. My mom,” I say, fiddling with the ends of my scarf. Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.
My phone rings. I pick up, waving Mom back. Three long honks emit from the phone. Jeremy and Tats laugh, and Mom goes back inside.
“My dumb brother is waiting for me downstairs,” I say.
We walk to the elevator in this silence that I want to fill with words that would erase the awkwardness. He is so close by, Tats in between us, and there’s this question in the air: What are we going to do now?
Now, meaning now that we started this thing rolling.
“So, I guess it’s a no to going to the lake then?” Tats asks. “There are a couple of others coming too.”
“I have this meeting to go to,” I say, glancing at Jeremy apologetically. He shrugs and gives me a cute crinkly-eye smile. I clutch my seerah book tighter.
“What’s that?” he asks, nodding at the book.
“That’s the book Janna made when she was a kid,” Tats says, ever ready to help me out. “It’s awesome. Like a comic book story of a guy’s life.”
She dislodges it from my arms and flips it open.
She’s showing the life of the Prophet to Jeremy.
I’m stunned at the course of events that’s brought the Prophet Muhammad and Jeremy into such close vicinity.
“Do you mind?” Jeremy asks, half reaching for the book.
A totally out-of-the-blue possessiveness toward my seerah book takes hold of me, and it must show in my face, because Jeremy drops his hand and shoves it back into his pocket as we step into the elevator.
Tats returns the book with an expression I rarely see her wearing: disapproval. Severe epic disapproval—such as moms and teachers do real well.
As soon as the elevator doors close, awkwardness descends again, this time with Dementor-like strength.
At any other time, I would’ve reveled in this daydream come to life: enclosed in twenty-seven square feet of space with Jeremy, with the possibility of being stuck between floors, as often happens in our building. Even with Tats there with us, it would’ve been a truly welcome scenario. Before.
Now? Now I’m aware of my seerah book and how I have it affixed to my chest and how Jeremy’s eyes inadvertently keep wandering toward it once in a while, totally unlecherously, if you know what I mean.
Tats is counting floors aloud as they ping on the indicators above the elevator doors. She’s probably occupying herself in order to refrain from reaming me out for not sharing my book with Jeremy.
“So,” I say, my cheeks warming steadily toward temperatures I’ve never experienced before. “Are you guys ready for exams?”
Jeremy shrugs and my heart deflates. I can tell he’s not impressed by moi thus far.
Tats shrugs as well and says, “Most of my classes have assignments instead of exams. I have one on Tuesday. But of course, you must be ready, huh?”
She gives Jeremy an exasperated eye roll and adds, “Jan’s a nerd. She gets As without trying. It’s sickening.”
He looks unmoved, which makes me wonder about the state of his academic record. I shake my head to eject such a revoltingly responsible thought out of it. Jeez, I felt like Mom for a minute there.
“I’m not really ready,” I say. “I’m going to cram this weekend. After Chicago.”
“Oh yeah, Farooq told me you guys were going to Chi-town,” Jeremy says, looking right into Mom’s sunglasses.
I look back at him though he’s fuzzy, appearing in focus then out of focus, in turns. My eye muscles are straining to work out the layout of his features. Mom must be near blind, because that’s some prescription in these glasses. Finally, I settle my gaze on that beautiful forehead, an expanse of uninterrupted clarity.
“Yeah, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” I say.
“Yeah, that’s what he said,” Jeremy says, still looking at me looking at his forehead.
“We’re coming back Sunday afternoon,” I say. “Maybe we can go by the lake then?”
“You guys can go,” Tats says. “I’m going to be at my grandparents’ cottage again. Dad’s renovating it for them. We’re coming back on Monday night.”
“Sure,” Jeremy says to me. “But I thought you had to study?”
“I’ll study on the way there. And tonight,” I say, immediately regretting my overeagerness.
“Then it’s a date,” Jeremy says.
“Ooooooh,” Tats says, flicking my shoulder with hers.
“Oh,” I say, apprehensive now. When I hear the word “date,” I get scared. I feel like I’ve been thrown out of a plane without a parachute when Jeremy says it—even though he means it lightly. If I get it to be more like a group of friends hanging out, then it’ll feel safer somehow. “Is anybody else going to be there on Sunday?”
“You mean, like we’re hanging out today?”
“Yeah?” I say quietly.
He must think I’m weird.
“Sure,” Jeremy says, nodding, like he understands. “That’ll be cool.”
And then he smiles at me again, and I swear my heart inflates into one huge red balloon.