Chapter 1: Arrangements

x HIRA x

"Hira!" I heard my dad call from downstairs, his voice loud and practically bouncing off the walls.

"Coming!" I yelled back, no where near as loud as him as I put my textbook down onto my bed and got up, leaving my room and shutting the door behind me.

My name is Hira Hamid. I'm half Egyptian and half English. My mum reverted to Islam after meeting my dad exactly 27 years ago, alhamdulillah. My Egyptian side definitely was more prominent as I clearly inherited most of my features from my dad. I had thick, dark hair, a caramel natural tan and big, dark eyes.

My older brother, Waleed is 25 years old and unlike my parents, who were very studious in school, decided not to attend university, but alhamdulillah he's quite happy as a personal trainer and the leader of our mosque's leisure activities committee. Waleed, like me, also got most of his features from our dad. We were practically identical, except he is much more tan than me. Not naturally, but because he spends a lot of time tanning as he has a passion for swimming and spends most of his spare time in our pool in the backyard, under the sun.

My younger brother, Hassan had just turned 7. He was the only one of us three who actually resembled my mother. He had a beautiful set of blue eyes and porcelain, pale skin. He also had the bubbly personality which matched her as well. Hassan's career path was already obvious. He would become an imam or be pulled into some sort of religious occupation. He had a talent for memorising the Qur'an very easily and even at seven years old, his recitation was better than mine and Waleed's. He already had five juz of Qur'an memorised Alhamdulillah, even though he didn't attend any hafidh programs. If he had, I was sure he would have been a hafidh by now.

My mum aged 45, is a paediatrician and has her own clinic with multiple customers who she has been helping for years now. She is a slightly chubby woman who has fair skin and bright, blue eyes. Her original name was Mary and then, after marrying my dad, she changed it to Mariam even thought it meant the same thing. She was convinced Mariam sounded nicer.

My dad, Ali, is 47, although he looks much younger than that, mashaaAllah. He is a lawyer at a well-known local firm and is also one who has one of the highest success rates in all of the state. The complete opposite of my mother, he is very stern, traditional and disciplined. It was a characteristic that did him well as a lawyer. Even though he has always been very affectionate to us, when he got angry...boy, did he get angry.

Walking down the final steps of the staircase, I saw my dad and mum sitting beside each other on the couch and my little brother watching Islamic cartoons on his iPad.

Waleed was on the dinner table, a bowl of cereal in front of him as he scrolled through his phone, probably on social media.

"Yes, baba?" I asked, looking at him from where I was standing up next to the couch.

"Can you sit for a couple of minutes?" He asked, clearing his throat. I nodded as I walked in front of them and sat on the single couch next, reaching over to mess up Hassan's hair and making him groan.

I loved annoying him.

"Something wrong?" I asked, leaning forward as I waited for my dad to speak.

He looked apprehensive about what he was obviously going to tell me and even by the simple look of uncertainty on his face, I knew that I wasn't going to be thrilled at the upcoming announcement.

"I got a call today." He said, clearing his throat and looking at me with weary eyes.

"From?" I asked when he didn't continue on with whatever he was planning on saying. My heart rate increased a little. Did something bad happen?

Waleed eventually realised that something was up and I heard his spoon clank before hearing the chair scrape against the hardwood. I turned my head and realised that he had turned his chair around so he was now facing us.

My head snapped back forward at the sound of my dad's voice.

"An old friend of mine who moved back to Egypt around five years ago called me. He had made the move for financial reasons. They thought they'd be more comfortable living in Egypt, but his wife wasn't able to adapt since she's been living here almost her whole life."

"Okay, and what does this have to do with me, baba?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in complete confusion.

I just wanted him to get to the part that concerned me already, even though I didn't know if I'd even like what I was going to hear.

"Well," He began, and as the next few string of words escaped his lips, I already knew that this announcement was going to take a turn for the worst. "You see, he has a son who is the same age as you."

Clearly, that could only mean one thing.

Damn it.

I stayed silent and let him continue. "You were ten around the time that he had left. In passing conversation one day, we promised each other that if I were to ever move to Egypt also then we would see how you and his son would work out."

I raised a brow. "But we're not going to Egypt..." I trailed off nervously, wringing my fingers together.

"Yes, but he's coming here. He suggested that we organise for you and his some to meet once they're settled and see where it goes from there." He said, watching me carefully and judging my reaction.

My eyes were wide as I looked at my mum, who, for some reason, was smiling like the Cheshire Cat. I resorted to look at Waleed, who I knew would have my back, and sure enough, his eyes were just as wide as mine, if not more.

"Baba, we don't even know the kid!" Waleed finally reacted, standing off his chair as the legs scraped the wooden floor with a screech.

My mum narrowed her eyes whilst looking at the newly made scratches on the floorboard, but my brother couldn't care less as he continued walking until he was across my parents. "What is he talking about!?"

"Waleed, relax. Don't you think I care about my daughter just as much, if not more, than you do your sister?" My dad spoke, looking extremely calm compared to Waleed's frustrated state.

He had probably anticipated Waleed to act this way since Waleed has always been very protective of me.

I saw his fists unclench and he calmed down a little, coming to sit next to me on the armrest of the couch, putting his arm over the back of it.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Amir." My dad said.

Amir.

A nice name, I suppose.

"Does he want to get married at 18?" Waleed asked.

Surprisingly, my dad shrugged. "That's all to be discussed once they come here. This is just a possibility right now. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation." He explained.

A million thoughts were running through my head and I couldn't keep up with any of them.

The main thought was that I didn't want to get married. I was only 18!

But in the backs of my mind, traitorous thoughts were floating about. I wondered what he was like, what his hobbies were, which foods he did and didn't like, if he played any sports and most of all...what he looked like.

"When do they arrive back?" I asked, softly and I felt my brother put his hand on my shoulder as a gesture of comfort which I was grateful for.

"Three weeks."

That wasn't long at all.

"How well do you know them, baba?" My brother asked.

"I don't know Amir, but I've known his father for years."

I looked at my mum who had been silent throughout the entire thing and raised my eyebrows, silently asking her what she thought.

"I'm not too sure, baby." She said, even though she was grinning wide. "Just know that if you don't like him in any way, you're not forced to accept. It's all on you. I've met the boy's mum once and she seemed quite pleasant. We'll have to wait and see." She said with a comforting smile, her eyes twinkling as she looked at me.

"Well you look more than excited, mum." Waleed mumbled, making my mum chuckle.

"It's just that Hira's finally all grown up and is entering the next stages of her life. It makes me happy, alhamdulillah." She told him and I forced a smile at her despite the current circumstances.

I nodded, thanking her before looking back at my dad. "What about my studying?" I asked.

"If you do end up getting along and decide to go on with anything but he doesn't let you study, then I'll be declining before you have a say, sweetheart. Don't worry." He smiled at me, standing up and holding shoulder as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of my head. "Like your mum said, this doesn't mean you're getting married. It's all up to you, okay? We'll take things at your pace." He said, his smooth voice comforting me instantly.

I looked up finally to meet his gaze and smiled at him softly, nodding my head. "Love you, baba."

"I love you, too, sweetheart." He replied before sitting back on his couch.

"I-uh...I'm going to go upstairs. I need to study," I said, standing up and looking at my family. "And process all of this." I added under my breath before walking to the staircase and ascending them up to my room.

I sat on my bed in silence, not knowing what to make of the issue. I was only alone for a minute before the door opened and Waleed walked in and sat across me.

"Hey." He said simply.

I exhaled as I looked at him, seeing his lips pursed.

"I don't want you getting married." He said, making me scoff and smile.

"I'm obviously not going to. I'm only 18...and plus, he's probably ugly anyway." I laughed.

"That's my girl." He chuckled, smiling as he leaned forward to place a kiss on my forehead.

We sat in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and his tone turned serious. "How do you feel about it all?"

I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know, Waleed. It all seems unreal right now. I don't think it fully hit me yet."

He gave me a sad smile. "If you want me to talk to baba..."

"No." I cut him off. "I don't want to make him go back on a promise he already gave. I'll just see him when they come, and then obviously say no." I shrugged.

It was a simple process really.

He nodded. "Okay, well I'll leave you to study then." He told me, getting off my bed and walking to the door after I nodded. "Still can't believe you're getting married before me." He said, shaking his head with a smirk on his face just to annoy me.

I picked up the pillow next to me and threw it towards him, but he closed the door quickly, causing for the pillow to hit the door instead of him. I heard his laugh through the door while I watched the pillow fall to the ground.

"I'm not getting married." I spoke to myself, not yet knowing that Allah swt had other plans for me and within months, I was indeed going to be married. Married and happy.

Very happy.

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