happiness caused him to reconsider. He wouldnât do anything to dampen her mood.
âGirlsâ business,â Nadia whispered in his ear as soon as the front door closed after the guests left. He didnât have to ask her. Nadia knew what was on his mind when their eyes met across the room. He bit his tongue to keep quiet, avoiding Huda by escaping to the roof.
To distract himself and relieve the angry energy pulsing inside, Omar paced the open space, dirty tiles under his feet and dark skies above his head. The physical examination at the military academy would take place next month. His friends who had signed up before him told him the exam was extensive and grueling. But he was in good shape. He would pass. He had to. Soon, he would have a place to stay, some income, modest though it may be, and a career once he graduated in two years. Not bad for a Palestinian refugee orphan boy. Not bad at all.
Fatimah would accept reality, once he gathered the courage to tell her. And he would. As soon as he passed the exam, his papers stamped. Since his food and lodging would be covered in the academy, he would be able to send Fatimah most of his cadet allowance. It was best to give his sister another source of income in case things didnât go well with Waleed and she had to stop working. But if what he saw on Fatimahâsface tonight was any indication, Waleed had already entered her heart.
Uncle Mustafa would worry Shareef might also join the academy, following him as usual. If he did, Shareef would no doubt fail the physical exam and go to the university as planned. Now that he had some leverage with Waleed, he should ask him to help Shareef find a part-time job, perhaps at his uncleâs press. If things worked out right, Uncle Mustafa would have his son under his roof and additional income.
Mama Subhia would encourage him with his plans, being the most practical in the family, understanding his reasons for taking that step. Huda would pack his bag the instant she heard the news. The little ones would hardly miss him, Farah confiscating his bed to separate from Salma. And Nadia?
What about Nadia?
Omar slowed his pace. He approached the railing and sat in his usual spot. What of sweet precious Nadia? His friends told him cadets got a break for one day every three months. Could she handle not having him around for that long? Could she manage school without his help? Nadia had come a long way: smart, observant, kind and . . . beautiful. If he hadnât been distracted by his anger earlier, he would have told her she looked nice tonight. Very, very nice. Freed of its usual braids, her dark hair reached the small of her back. Her tea and milk skin glowed, contrasted by her fitted yellow blouse.
What the hell? Where was his mind going?
He massaged his neck. School. He was thinking of Nadiaâs schooling. Shareef would be of no help, his attitude toward his sister one of tolerance, nothing more. Maybe he would step in and take charge in his absence? Become more attentive and helpful? Not likely. Shareef never showed interest in Nadiaâs schoolwork unless it involved Sameera.
How could he warn Nadia about Sameera? Nadiaâs innocence prevented her from seeing her friendâs true colors. He should tell her not to spend too much time with the loose girl. He wouldnât have to explain why.Nadia wouldnât argue, trusting him. She always did. He damned himself for not letting her know she looked beautiful before he left the house. A clueless girl like Nadia should be reminded of her beauty, getting used to hearing it at home so she wouldnât be swept away by the first rake who said it. What was the chance of that happening?
His hands balled into fists. He relaxed his fingers and ran them through his hair. Shareef must pay attention, damn it. The way he carried on with Sameera. He had four sisters. Didnât he know whatever he did to someone elseâs sister would come back and bite
âGirlsâ business,â Nadia whispered in his ear as soon as the front door closed after the guests left. He didnât have to ask her. Nadia knew what was on his mind when their eyes met across the room. He bit his tongue to keep quiet, avoiding Huda by escaping to the roof.
To distract himself and relieve the angry energy pulsing inside, Omar paced the open space, dirty tiles under his feet and dark skies above his head. The physical examination at the military academy would take place next month. His friends who had signed up before him told him the exam was extensive and grueling. But he was in good shape. He would pass. He had to. Soon, he would have a place to stay, some income, modest though it may be, and a career once he graduated in two years. Not bad for a Palestinian refugee orphan boy. Not bad at all.
Fatimah would accept reality, once he gathered the courage to tell her. And he would. As soon as he passed the exam, his papers stamped. Since his food and lodging would be covered in the academy, he would be able to send Fatimah most of his cadet allowance. It was best to give his sister another source of income in case things didnât go well with Waleed and she had to stop working. But if what he saw on Fatimahâsface tonight was any indication, Waleed had already entered her heart.
Uncle Mustafa would worry Shareef might also join the academy, following him as usual. If he did, Shareef would no doubt fail the physical exam and go to the university as planned. Now that he had some leverage with Waleed, he should ask him to help Shareef find a part-time job, perhaps at his uncleâs press. If things worked out right, Uncle Mustafa would have his son under his roof and additional income.
Mama Subhia would encourage him with his plans, being the most practical in the family, understanding his reasons for taking that step. Huda would pack his bag the instant she heard the news. The little ones would hardly miss him, Farah confiscating his bed to separate from Salma. And Nadia?
What about Nadia?
Omar slowed his pace. He approached the railing and sat in his usual spot. What of sweet precious Nadia? His friends told him cadets got a break for one day every three months. Could she handle not having him around for that long? Could she manage school without his help? Nadia had come a long way: smart, observant, kind and . . . beautiful. If he hadnât been distracted by his anger earlier, he would have told her she looked nice tonight. Very, very nice. Freed of its usual braids, her dark hair reached the small of her back. Her tea and milk skin glowed, contrasted by her fitted yellow blouse.
What the hell? Where was his mind going?
He massaged his neck. School. He was thinking of Nadiaâs schooling. Shareef would be of no help, his attitude toward his sister one of tolerance, nothing more. Maybe he would step in and take charge in his absence? Become more attentive and helpful? Not likely. Shareef never showed interest in Nadiaâs schoolwork unless it involved Sameera.
How could he warn Nadia about Sameera? Nadiaâs innocence prevented her from seeing her friendâs true colors. He should tell her not to spend too much time with the loose girl. He wouldnât have to explain why.Nadia wouldnât argue, trusting him. She always did. He damned himself for not letting her know she looked beautiful before he left the house. A clueless girl like Nadia should be reminded of her beauty, getting used to hearing it at home so she wouldnât be swept away by the first rake who said it. What was the chance of that happening?
His hands balled into fists. He relaxed his fingers and ran them through his hair. Shareef must pay attention, damn it. The way he carried on with Sameera. He had four sisters. Didnât he know whatever he did to someone elseâs sister would come back and bite
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